Oh, what a year for newspapers! They’re dying! They’re keeling. They’re ghosts! They’re di-no-saurs! They’re mice! Eeeek!
And that’s just from the publishers. This is the first business in the history of capitalism where the owners are trying to terrify themselves out of business. Newspapers. Ohhh … the kids don’t read ’em. Ohhh … the Read More
A sprawling abstract artwork greets visitors to the 37th-floor conference center of the high-powered law firm Skadden, Arps, Slate, Meagher & Flom.
Painted directly on a wide, curved wall with marker and acrylic, Double Down was installed by conceptual artist Matthew Ritchie some four years ago in an otherwise-refined office environment, all gleaming, caramel-colored marble Read More
On Sept. 21, Los Angeles Times editor Dean Baquet turned 50 years old. When he stepped out into the newsroom that afternoon, following the daily page-one meeting, he was greeted with a birthday cake and a prolonged, loud ovation.
The crowd numbered more than a hundred. Two hundred? It sprawled uncountably out of view, around Read More
A Letter from our L.A. bureau:
In the days following the Hurricane Katrina disaster in New Orleans, the city of Los Angeles was subject to a blackout, an Al Qaeda terrorist threat, and the announcement by our action-hero governor that he’s running for re-election—even as he vetoed a bill legalizing gay marriage, plummeted to a Read More
A Letter from our L.A. bureau:
In the days following the Hurricane Katrina disaster in New Orleans, the city of Los Angeles was subject to a blackout, an Al Qaeda terrorist threat, and the announcement by our action-hero governor that he’s running for re-election—even as he vetoed a bill legalizing gay marriage, plummeted to Read More
“I can think of a lot of people,” Dean Baquet said, “who are more capable than I am to be budget minders.”
Mr. Baquet was sitting in his office on the edge of the Los Angeles Times newsroom on July 25, discussing his pending promotion to editor. Five years after the onetime New York Times Read More
On West 43rd Street, the 2004 Pulitzer Prize announcement might as well have been delivered by the late Bob Hope. The word came down hours before the start of Passover and as with Mr. Hope’s old joke about the Oscars, it was a double entendre: The newspaper of record, two years removed from its seven-Pulitzer Read More
