You know, just because you lose SFJ to The New Yorker doesn't mean you start publishing crap like this. (Example: "'Windowlicker' is a few years old, but it's still far more innovative than just about anything being produced today." Uh-huh. Who needs a strawman when there are so many people out there willing to hoist themselves onto the fence for you?) Update: My god, it's strawman day! "O'Brien . . . had the good fortune to grow up in a family of Salingeresque hams, surrounded by good musical taste, on an Upper West Side that had yet to price out the last of its seedy idiosyncrasy." Wait a second--aren't you the same writer who opens the piece by lambasting pop writers for being, uh, seedily idiosyncratic? Oh yeah, that's right--that all-important Upper West Side pedigree is what separates the right kind of "seedy idiosyncrasy" from that of, uh, everyone else's, I guess. Or think. Or something. Wednesday update: And it don't stop! Absolute unquestioned highlight: the closing byline, which I will not spoil.