I'm definitely joining the chorus of joy extolling the death of TimesSelect. We all know that information wants to be free, and it has to be free to be even remotely relevant online—especially in light of my growing fear that a substantial minority of adults in this city seem to believe the internet is equivalent to google.

But the appearance of "free" and "news" together in (many) single blog posts reminded me of this Wellington Grey cartoon I meant to comment on awhile back. You see, I'm all for free news in print as well as online—the more the merrier! But I loathe, from the very depths of my soul, the concept of those free papers being forced onto hurried people during rush hour.

It's not just that the poor saps thrusting free rags in my face add yet another obstruction to my already-blood-broiling commute on the 6—and occasionally cause me to twist my ankle falling down the stairs!—what really gets to me is that I simply can't deduce even a hint of a financially sound newspaper operating strategy from their ubiquitous presence at seemingly every subway entrance in Manhattan five mornings a week.

I mean, we know from the lawsuit filed by AM New York's hawkers in August, they're paid only $20 a day for up to four hours of work (note to self: be a little nicer to these underpaid folks). While this salary is obviously not enough to live on anywhere in the vicinity of New York—and, you know, illegal—it's a nontrivial expense for the papers themselves.

According to the MTA, there are 468 stations in the city. Even if the free dailies are only staffing, say, 100 of them (because, let's face it, they probably only care about wealthy Manhattan eyeballs), that's $2,000 a day spent forcing people to read your paper—half a million dollars a year (calculated as 5 days a week for 52 weeks minus 10 nationally recognized holidays).

Really, AM New York? Really Metro? You couldn't roll that half a mil into your content budget and maybe upgrade to a halfway-decent editorial staff who could put together a paper that someone might actually *want* to read instead of providing the kindling for track fires? Or—at the very least—spend it on real advertising to trick us into thinking we want to read your paper instead of thwarting our mad dash for the departing train?

After all, the real moral of Battelle's story about the shift in reading habits from pull to point is that we want to read what other people are talking about and blogging about. Not what people are shoving in our caffeine-starved faces first thing in the morning.

We interrupt your regularly scheduled blogging to bring news from the netherworld of brain-rotting television:

Victoria Marshman, Yale medieval history student and America's Next Top Model contestant

Confirming our lingering suspicion that it is possible, albeit genetically unlikely, to be tall and thin but not entirely vapid, Yale student Victoria Marshman will be geeking up the runways of America's Next Top Model as the token "smart model," an even rarer breed than the token "plus size model."

And she ain't no Yale accounting major. She's studying medieval history. It doesn't get much dorkier than that.

I, for one, am really enjoying all the pooh-poohing of her self-proclaimed disinterest in fashion going on in the comments to this post on Ivy Gate Blog.

Granted, I have no idea why any self-respecting history geek would volunteer to waste valuable reading time trotting around in stilettos with 12 women who only want to talk about hair and clothing, although I choose to personally believe that she's on a covert mission to destroy this intelligence-eroding show from the inside. But do these commenters really think it's possible to be interested in fashion *and* medieval history? Have you seen how those people dressed?

woman in a wimple, courtesy of wikipedia

Says wikipedia of 13th Century women's fashion:

A floor length, loosely-fitted gown, with long, tight sleeves and a narrow belt, was uniform. Over this was worn the cyclas or sleeveless surcoat (also worn by men). Richer women wore more embroidery, and the mantle, held in place by a cord across the chest, might be lined with fur. Women also wore hose and leather shoes, like men.

Yeah. That's sexy. And you know any medieval history buff worth her salt is prancing around in exactly this getup at any number of renaissance faires.

Anyway, more info at Yale Daily News. The highly intrigued can also watch Victoria's Top Model interview clip:

The intrigued and brave should also check her out looking dorky and bemused on the runway at 2:16 (0:24 if the clock is counting down) of the promotional video:

Fair warning, though: If you watch the full video, you'll be subjected to Tyra Banks announcing the theme of this season of her show: "the future."

OMFG you guys!!! The future!

Embedded video doens't work in most RSS videos. To watch these videos, you'll have to visit the the actual post.

My apologies for the IQ-lowering nature of this post. You didn't need those brain cells anyway.

Remember how irked I was when slate called kenspeckle a pretentious $10 word? Well, I'm pleased to announce that kenspeckle's found a splendid second opinion from Stuart Kelly of Telegraph: "'Kenspeckle' is a lovely Scottish word, meaning conspicuous, prominent and familiar…"

Damn straight.

Somehow my new pal Stuart segues this opening into a writeup of his interview with Ian Rankin, the Scottish author who's as kenspeckle in Edinburgh for his Inspector Rebus detective series as J.K. Rowling is for, well, you know.

But rivaling this praise of my favorite word as the best thing about this interview is Stuart's primary evidence for Ian's notability: "Nearly every pub in Edinburgh has a picture of him launching the Rebus20 promotional beer…"

Ian Rankin pulling a pint of Rebus 20

That's right. The 20th anniversary of the Scottish Sherlock Holmes is being celebrated with promotional beer!

"What exactly is a 'promotional beer' anyway?" you may wonder. Well, according to this press release from the publisher of Inspector Rebus, Orion Books, it's the August 2007 seasonal ale (complete with a "mystery ingredient") from Caledonian Brewery, which happens to make Deuchars IPA, the favorite beer of both Inspector Rebus and his creator.

Only in the U.K., people. But really, there's nothing like a special beer to promote a successful, long-running pop-lit series. Is Hogwarts Hefeweizen next?

Tuesday night's New York Tech Meetup, aside from providing its usual interesting and/or weird demos and hilarious stand-up comedy routine, literally saved my life.

You see, I've been struggling James Joyce-style with debilitating dry eye syndrome (occupational hazard, of course) for the past few weeks. Earlier that evening, my ophthalmologist prescribed a certain antibiotic—long story as to why that would help—and under normal circumstance I'd have gone straight to the pharmacy and taken one on my way home.

But instead I went downtown to the esteemed Cooper Union's Great Hall to "kick it" with my fellow geeks, and, being too lazy to fill the prescription on my way home, I had a chance to google it first and discover that it's in a family of antibiotics to which I'm highly allergic, thus safely ending a near-near-death experience.

But, more importantly, the funniest exchange of the evening:

Scott Heiferman (organizer): You have, like, a really interesting piece of technology making new entertainment—games! Games for meeting people. So why are you getting into the publishing business?
i'm in like with you presenter: We kind of want to be a destination for people who are just bored at work and we want to add more value.
audience member: How big would you say the bored-at-work demographic is?
iilwy presenter: Uh…in America, probably everyone.

On a related note, I'm totally in like with whoever wrote the copy for the i'm in like with you presentation, on the force of gems like:

now hiring:
rails developers
flash developers
MBA douchebags

And

information!
news and shit you need to know
ticker at the bottom
OMFG. The weather!