Middleton.

Historically, Memorial Day is a somber holiday—we all take off of work to commemorate fallen soldiers. But since we already celebrate our men in uniform on Veteran’s Day, the long weekend at the end of May is also an excuse for a bacchanal to celebrate the upcoming summer. Pools open, grills are dusted off and white tennies are spit shined for the courts.

And since this is the weekend of rebirth, what better chance for us to sit down and think about what really want out of this summer? Pippa Middleton moving to New York (or better yet, Brooklyn!); an Arsenio Hall comeback tour post-Celebrity Apprentice; the cancellation of Jersey Shore; the rise of Facebook stock; and the fall of John Travolta.

While the elections may be time for cautious optimism and a rally for action, we’re much more interested in keeping track of the issues addressed on James Franco’s Huffington Post blog. Between tackling the major interests of the day—like ghost tours, what it’s like hanging out with Nicolas Cage, commencement speeches written by friends and that time he met President Barack Obama—the auteur and man of (too) many words has been using his platform to take potshots at The New York Observer.

Not that we’re knocking his new career. If anything, Mr. Franco is an inspiration to graduates: work hard, study and collect Ivy League degrees like they are Pokemon cards, then one day Arianna Huffington may let you write for free on her website.

That’s the kind of sunny future we wish for all of you this Memorial Day.

Sekoff and Huffington. (Image via Getty)

Democratic advisors Peter Daou and James Boyce are carrying on with their bitter lawsuit claiming that Arianna Huffington and Kenneth Lerer stole their idea for a liberal Drudge Report and cut them out of control and ownership of The Huffington Post.

Though many of the pair's claims were dismissed in October, a judge allowed them to go into discovery on a theft of idea claim, according to paidContent. An amended complaint filed yesterday alleges that emails and meeting minutes between Ms. Huffington, HuffPost editor Roy Sekoff and the late Andrew Breitbart reveal a plan to cover up Mr. Daou and Mr. Boyce's involvement, which we've excerpted below:

Because Defendants knew that they had stolen the idea for The Huffington Post,they also knew that they needed to develop a false account of the website’s origins that cut Boyce and Daou out of the picture. Huffington and Lerer discussed this problem during a meeting with Sekoff and Breitbart on March 29, 2005, where the four of them discussed possible responses to press inquiries on the subject of how and when the idea for the website originated.The minutes of that meeting reflect the deliberate creation of a false and fraudulent “narrative” to explain the origin of the idea for The Huffington Post. As reflected in the minutes, the participants at this meeting asked: “How did the project get started? What’s the narrative? …How did the idea for the Huffington Report originate?” In response, Breitbart proposed this answer: “I knew what was missing in the blogosphere, I just needed the rolodex to be able to putit all together, and Arianna provided that. … Arianna called Andrew to talk about an alternative to the Drudge Report. Andrew called Arianna about the group blog - there’s nobody he knows besides Arianna who could make this work.”

The minutes reflect a follow-up question: “So how did Kenny come into the picture? How did he and Arianna come together to work on this project?” This time, the answer was proffered by Sekoff and Breitbart: “It doesn’t matter.” Breitbart then added: “He met you and is retired and excited to leave retirement to join you in this project.” After briefly discussingthe function of the website, the minutes record a return to a discussion of the “narrative.”Breitbart states, “It’s all about coming up with the group blog."

The moral here is never found anything. It only leads to pettiness, embarrassment and unspeakable wealth.

(Illo: Chris Gash)

It is May, and time to spray the doors and windows of my home. I trudge, unhappily, out to the garden shed. The insect repellent waits for me, but by the time I carry it back to the house, I’ve already decided I’m not going to spray the fucking doors or the fucking windows. It’s a beautiful day.

And yesterday, goddamn it, was City Day.

City Day is the day, every couple of weeks or so, that I take the train to New York City and wonder what God is waiting for. He promised destruction. He promised vengeance. Big talker. I don’t know what it is about the city that so infuriates me. It isn’t the usual city complaints; it isn’t the filth (I sort of wish there was more). It isn’t the noise or the stench or rush.

What is it, I wonder?

It isn’t a physical quality. It’s something else. It’s something intangible.  And it bothers me that I can’t identify it.

Over breakfast at Scotty’s on Sixth Avenue, Phil talks to me about his new girlfriend. She’s great, but a little old, and she has kids, and Phil’s not sure if he wants kids at this point or if he wants kids at all or if he wants to take on someone else’s kids and he’s starting a new company, it’s an online aggregator of something that culls data from somewhere and sells it to someplace else and he really feels he should be focusing on that right now and it wouldn’t be fair to her not to mention her kids and it wouldn’t really be fair to him, either, when you stop and think about it.

At lunch at a diner on Lexington Jen orders the soup and salad. She’s cutting out meat as best she can, but not eggs yet, or fish, and dairy is probably next but she loves cheese and is a big coffee drinker and can’t stand cream but then one teaspoon a day probably isn’t going to kill her, and the truth is that she’s not doing it for humane animal rights reasons but for personal health reasons (she’s forty-two now and the fat doesn’t come off as quickly as it used to, God, she feels old even though she knows forty-two isn’t old) and it bothers her because that seems selfish of her but why should she care what other people think about her anyway, she’s doing the best she can.

I sit on the train headed back upstate, unable to write because my few hours in the city have made me doubt everything I’ve ever thought about everything. I’m very suggestible (until I become enraged and reject everything), and I stare at my laptop screen questioning everything I’ve ever written. Should I be writing a vampire novel? A sitcom? A Ben Stiller vehicle? Also, should my jeans be skinnier? Should my sneakers be lighter? Fortunately, Amtrak now has wireless internet access, so there is no risk of thought, no chance of self-examination, no possibility of reflection and self-appraisal. You are safe here from the horror of yourself, and, thus free, I logged on.

I don’t know what it is about the Huffington Post that so infuriates me. It isn’t a political thing, that much I know, because I don’t particularly care about politics; if there’s one thing we can thank the internet for, it’s revealing how utterly stupid and ridiculous the whole game is: take any left-wing website, change all the adjectives and nouns to their closest opposites (smart to stupid, hero to socialist, Rethuglican to Demo-Rat) and you have yourself a right-wing site. So what is it? Is it Arianna? It could be. Maybe it’s Arianna?

What is it, I wonder?

It bothers me that I can’t identify it.

Soon, though, the brown brick buildings outside my window give way to mountains and trees, and I look out over the Hudson River and I am somehow, for some reason, relieved.

I don’t know why.

And it bothers me.

***

“For use outside the home,” read the directions on the pest spray, “to control home invading pests such as ants, cockroaches, crickets, earwigs, fleas, house flies, millipedes, mosquitoes, spiders, and ticks including American, deer tick, brown dog tick. Do not treat firewood. Do not spray in enclosed area. Do not…”

I decide to go for a hike.

I call for my dog, and walk into the woods behind my home, up the old logging trail that leads to the mountaintop. It is a steep climb, and at the small stream that crosses the trail at the head of the next mountain, my dog stops for a drink of water. Some trees have fallen over the winter, others have grown; the boulders and stones, though, never change, and they help mark the way as the trail begins to fade. When I was a child, my rabbi taught me that King Solomon could talk to the animals, to all of nature, in fact, and the calm I feel filling me makes me imagine I can do the same. I send silent greetings of joy and thanks to the squirrels, the trees, the breeze around me.

None reply. If anything, the forest quiets, as if waiting for me to go, to be gone, to just leave already. If I could refrain from killing something, or paving something over before I go, that would be most appreciated.

And that’s when it hits me. What it is I hate about the city and Arianna and the fucking Huffington Post; or rather, what it is I love about the woods.

“I go to nature,” wrote John Burroughs, “to be soothed and healed, and to have my senses put in order.”

Not me.

“A morning-glory at my window,” wrote Walt Whitman, “satisfies me more than the metaphysics of books.”

Nope. For me, it isn’t the beauty or the majesty or the oneness with nature. It’s our twoness with nature. I like nature because nature doesn’t care. Nature doesn’t need us, or give a damn about us either way. Here, says the forest, is how much you matter: not at all. The world was here before man, it will be here after, and nothing in it—not the trees, not the animals, not the stones or the moss or the frogs or the streams—will give a flying fuck about us when we’re gone. Something about the city makes people think they matter, think this world is theirs, think the only history that counts is the history of man.

ANDERSON COOPER CALLS OUT OBAMA OVER GAY MARRIAGE!

Shut up, Arianna.

STEWART SLAMS GOP WAR ON WOMEN!

Seriously – shut the fuck up.

CHRISTIE GOES ROGUE ON SOME DAMN THING!

Go for a walk, Huffy. In the woods. Alone. Embrace your meaninglessness. If there’s any happiness possible in this world—if—that’s likely the way to it.

I call for my dog, and head back down the mountain, feeling small and vanishing and utterly, wonderfully insignificant. I get home, grab the insect repellent and begin spraying it, as directed, around the windows and doors.

“I hope,” the spider says to the ant, “that stuff keeps the humans in there.”

“It’s worth a shot,” says the ant. “They’re fucking everywhere.”

Huffington at the Time 100 Gala. (Image via Getty)

New Age/New Media guru Arianna Huffington's love of sleep is well documented. There's the "sleep your way to the top—literally" TED talk, the sleep challenge and the famous AOL nap rooms. That story that she hides her three BlackBerrys in the bathroom while she sleeps is inextricable from her personal mythology. 

Repeating it to WWD at the Time 100 Gala this week, she revealed that her PDA brood has grown since the New Yorker profile.

"When I sleep, I put all my devices in another room to charge," she said, "I have four BlackBerries, one iPhone, two iPads."

And it seems the increased connectivity demands a new mode of relaxation. She told WWD she's launching an app called "the GPS for the Soul."

"It’s a way for us to identify our stress levels and course-correct," she said. "You would download the app, you would tap on the stress sensor, and it would give you your heart rate, breath rate, blood pressure. And then you would program it with the things that help you de-stress.”

Like this 103-slide slideshow of the worst celebrity jeans of all time, for example.

Taki Theodoracopulos with 'Greek Pudding' Arianna Huffington (PMc)

"I don't think he did anything that extraordinary, to point out what Blacks themselves point out," Taki Theodoracopulos told The Observer over the phone this afternoon.

He was talking about National Review journalist John Derbyshire's controversial article, “The Talk: Nonblack Version,” written for Mr. Theodoracopulos' namesake webzine, Taki's Mag.

Within 72 hours after its publication, the Review announced that it was "parting ways" with Mr. Derbyshire, saying that the author was using the conservative publication's name to "to get more oxygen for views with which we’d never associate ourselves otherwise." National Review's Editor-In-Chief Rich Lowry said the piece "lurches from the politically incorrect to the nasty and indefensible."

Mr. Theodoracopulos, who called himself a "great fan" of Taki's Mag (which is actually edited by his daughter, while dad plays the role of curator, pulling in big names from his thick Rolodex), had his own opinion of why Mr. Derbyshire was let go.

"You know, I was one of the last people asked to write Bill Buckley's obituary," the  American Conservative magazine co-founder (his partners were Pat Buchanan and Scott McConnell) told The Observer. "He never would have done a thing like that...meaning you don't fire somebody to toe the politically correct line for the neo-cons in Washington."

"It's nice to be light sometimes," the 40-year veteran of The Spectator's High Life column said of Taki's Mag's sometimes flippant take of the issues. "Especially in America."

"They (the Review) were in such a hurry to toe the PC line that I don't even think they read the piece. It just goes to show what a bunch of rats they've become to do a thing like that," Mr. Theodoracopulos continued. "But it makes me happy, because now Mr. Derbyshire is free to go to The Chronicle, The American Conservative, or to us (Taki's Mag). We'll split him up, the three of us, I hope."

We asked if Taki's Mag pays its writers.

"We pay! Unlike the 'Greek Pudding' [Editor's note: We assume he's referring to Arianna Huffington]...and Tina Brown knows...we pay."

The auction for the patents began last fall, part of the company's long term plan to "unlock value" for shareholders. The transaction is expected to close by the end of 2012, and the company says it plans to return a significant portion of the proceeds to shareholders.

Meanwhile, WWD caught AOL and Huffington Post editor Arianna Huffington at her book party for Kathy Freston (Ms. Freston introduced Ms. Huffington to her business partner Kenneth Lerer), to find out how she felt about about her growing influence at AOL.

The news that Ms. Huffington had acquired more responsibility at the home of AIM was first reported by The New York Times—and vaguely. The next day, Business Insider conjectured that the Times had been spun by a former NBC publicist decamping to Huffington Post, pointing out that Ms. Huffington had lost quite a bit of editorial responsibility in the reorganization, including over TechCrunch and AOL.com.

At the book party, Ms. Huffington backpedaled on the notion she'd gained more control of AOL.

"I don't see it that way," she told WWD. "Changes are necessary because of the growth of the Huffington Post. Being able to integrate technology and marketing with editorial is going to make it easier for us to grow much stronger."

The Post is currently planning a seventh anniversary party, she added.

“We’ve never had an anniversary party. I think it’s time. There will be clowns and face-painting. That’s what you have for a seven-year-old, don’t you? We never had one before because we were always working.”

New York Times Magazine

AG: After AOL purchased The Huffington Post last year, I interviewed Arianna Huffington. She hung up on me and complained to my editors. So I was pleasantly surprised that you agreed to this interview.

TA: I read the interview when it came out, and it looked like it was rough. We don’t hold grudges around here.

Back in April, Mr. Goldman and Ms. Huffington got into it over the alleged red shift that had struck the news site, once known as the liberal's Drudge Report, since its merger with AOL.

AG: You’ve been saying recently that The Huffington Post is not a lefty publication?
AH: Actually I’ve been saying that for three years. The tag line that we’ve used a lot is “Beyond left and right.”

Three years ago was 2008. I looked at The Huffington Post a great deal during the election. It felt like the Internet version of Keith Olbermann’s show, and if that’s not lefty. . . .
Why don’t you be more specific? What were the messages that you considered lefty?

It’s as if you’re trying to tell me that Smurfs aren’t blue.
I’m just telling you that it is very clear that we have progressive views, but to call everything we’re doing lefty — it misses the whole point that American policy needs to be redefined beyond left and right. It’s a completely obsolete view of politics.

Still, I’m amazed you’re trying to tell me that The Huffington Post wasn’t started as a lefty blog?
I’m not trying to tell you anything. I’m telling you things. I’m not trying, O.K.?

Despite this attack on his so-called work wife, Mr. Armstrong is able to carry on a lighthearted but substantive conversation about the company. He denies that AOL's revenue is entirely made up of little old ladies who don't know they're still subscribed to it, promises he is not challenging Democratic Senator Kirsten Gillibrand and says, actually, under-30s have very positive brand associations with AOL because of our wasted youths on AOL Instant Messenger (AIM).

It all appears to be very civilized but, considering the recent revelation about Ms. Huffington's interview, we would be naive to think we know what goes down between Mr. Goldman and his subjects. Who knows what curse words, personal insults and threats of physical violence wound up on the cutting room floor after this interview was, as they say, condensed and edited?

Unlike the ill-fated salons proposed by The Washington Post in 2009, lobbyists can’t buy a seat at these off-the-record dinners; The Atlantic picked up the tab. The aim of the series, which may move to Los Angeles, Chicago, Silicon Valley, or Washington, D.C., depending on the cover story’s content, appears more earnest.

“This developed as an extension of The Atlantic’s mission from its outset, to be a proponent of the American idea,” publisher Jay Lauf told Off The Record. “We’re trying to put our money where our mouth is, raising controversial questions and fostering conversations.”

Like a comments section, but better dressed.

Atlantic editor James Bennet and James Fallows, author of the March’s cover story, “Obama, Explained,” broke bread with their competitors from New York’s print political media, including The New Yorker’s Nicholas Lemann, New York’s John Heilemann, and Time’s Mark Halperin.

They were joined by Hollywood types Black Swan director Darren Aronofsky and actor Alec Baldwin; captains of industry like Mercedez Benz USA CEO Stephen Cannon and Eagle Capital managing director Boykin Curry; and the category-defying Arianna Huffington, who could only stay for cocktails.

“Some of the people we invite may change the way we look at those cover stories going forward on the web, or they may have more ideas on those cover stories that may be useful to the national dialogue,” Mr. Lauf explained.

Whom did Mr. Lauf look forward to exchanging American ideas with?

“I follow Alec Baldwin on Twitter,” Mr. Lauf said, “So he’s someone I think might always say something interesting.”

Bienvenue, Le Huffington Post Québec!

Like other international HuffPo launches, Le Huffington Post Québec (HPQ) is a partnership with a local media company, Bell Canada and its agency Media Experts. But unlike the other publicized spin-offs and verticals, HPQ conspicuously lacks a celebrity editor or blogger.

Even if you were familiar with Québec intelligentsia, you probably wouldn't find them on HPQ's masthead. Last week, the Montreal Gazette reported that at least nine high-profile lefty intellectuals, activists, artists and politicians had pulled out of the project after committing to it, amid criticism that blogging for free for AOL meant selling out to a major corporation and undermining local journalism.

Among the Huff Post turncoats: Amir Khadir, Steven Guilbeault, Normand Baillargeon, Françoise David, Évelyne de la Chenelière, Jean Barbe, Philippe Couillard, Bernard Drainville and Pierre Curzi.

HPQ is taking it all in stride, for now.

“Frankly, the controversy we received helped us, in a way,” managing editor Patrick White told the Gazette. “A lot of other bloggers came to see us because of that, journalists came to work for us because of that and at the end of the day it was a positive for us, because the Huffington brand is much better known now and less obscure.”

In late November, a poll found that 82% of Quebecers had never heard of the Huffington Post.

Ms. Tsotsis, Freedom Fighter (or something like it).

Last time, Ms. Tsotsis explained that she was "beginning to feel stupid" for still working at TechCrunch in light of what she felt were AOL's poor decisions on an executive level. This was, of course, besides having already seen some of the oldest writers for the site (including founder Michael Arrington) get dispatched by Arianna Huffington in an aggressive power play.

Today, she posted an email forwarded to her about a new initiative by AOL chief Arianna Huffington: The installation of nap rooms. Nap rooms themselves aren't entirely hysterical. Plenty of people have crashed overnight in an office pulling all-nighters, usually on uncomfortable couches. These people could probably use more comfortable couches.

But what is funny about a nap room is the strong importance Arianna Huffington is placing on them. From the email to TechCrunch:

"This is high on the priority list for Arianna and your office is one of the few where we don’t yet have it in place."

Also funny is the phrasing Ms. Tsotsis chose to use, especially for the headline:

"Arianna Wants To Put A Nap Room In TechCrunch HQ. LOL."

And also, the way she posts an Onion piece at the end of the post lampooning The Huffington Post's aggregation strategy:

"At least they’re not trying to install one of these things. "

The entire thing is wonderful, and a clear shot across the bow at her employer. That said, if Ms. Tsotsis is in fact trying to get fired, this strategy—that of attracting attention to the site for its belligerence—make backfire for being successful. Or Ms. Tsotsis is trying to attract attention to the site on a Friday evening by openly provoking her boss.

Either way, it's fun to watch. One more like this and we'll open up the betting pool on when she gets canned.

fkamer@observer.com | @weareyourfek