Since the Dodgers are in New York, why not turn our eyes to the New Yorker magazine? It's home to a lot of fine writing, and a distinctly pro-New York stance. Still, sometimes it can't resist getting small, and the smugness just leaks through the pages. From the latest issue:
- in an article about Florida crime fiction by Adam Gopnik:
Though both L.A. and Miami saw phenomenal growth in a short period—L.A. between the two world wars, Miami after the second—the overcharge of nature in Florida gives it its peculiar character. Even the names of the local teams (Dolphins, Hurricanes, Seminoles, Heat, Marlins) suggest a natural history of the place, where in Los Angeles the names (Lakers, Dodgers, Clippers, Kings) are either generic or borrowed from elsewhere: the lakes are all back in Minnesota, as the trolley cars dodged were once in Brooklyn.
- in a movie review by David Denby:
Like so many films about Los Angeles, "The Bling Ring" is caught between rapture and despair, between the glittering views from the Hollywood Hills and a sense that all moral distinctions have slid away in the canyons.
Patronize much? Careful on that high horse, you might hit your head on an elevated subway platform.