Once again, our foreign correspondent in Sacramento reports on media goings-on in New York:

Martha, Martha, Martha!: Finally, the New York media is getting the hint and covering an actual celebrity instead of people whose mothers barely remember them. The media coverage of Martha Stewart's release from her taxpayer-subsidized sabbatical/makeover/investment strategy has been entirely appropriate, as New Yorkers think she represents the domestic ideal to which the rest of America aspires. In reality, Stewart represents cheap housewares—no more, no less, as Sacramentans well know. But NYC isn't listening, even though I'm typing really fucking hard right now. Anyway, not since the release of Al Capone has the media swarmed upon a celebrity former inmate. And just like Capone did in '39, Stewart greeted the press with hot chocolate and cookies. I'd be worried that the homicide rates in NYC are going to skyrocket as a result of Stewart's freedom if; a) actual people still occupied the island of Manhattan, and; b) I had used the massive per diem I receive from mediabistro to pay for a subscription to that Justice Department report instead of on cockfights.

Coverage: Straight men read Vanity Fair. No seriously, they do—at least that's what E. Paul Tilson-Schaffer-Graydon Carter would have you believe with the latest cover. Apparently he has learned his lesson after the last 4 or 5 or whatever issues racked up declining sales figures due to the proliferation of penii on those covers. I think it's working because I almost picked up the latest issue at the Safeway magazine rack before coming to my senses and going straight for the Dwell. Architectural porn beats the latest breaking news on those crazy kids from the Lost Generation any day. I have to give Carter credit, though, as Vanity Fair is usually transparent to me, and not just visually. A few months ago, my hand actually passed right through the Jude Law issue as I grabbed for Maxim. I can still smell the fragrance ads on my thumb. Eerie.