I confess. When I'm in New York I read The New York Post. But, to keep my good standing among dotCommers, let me make it perfectly clear that, when riding the subway, I keep it carefully hidden within the pages of The New York Times.However, it seems that now The Post is reaching me even in Boston -- once again in the pages of The Times.Thus I discover this in today's Maureen Dowd column:
How could Citigroup be so dumb as to go ahead with plans to get a new $50 million corporate jet, the exclusive Dassault Falcon 7X seating 12, after losing $28.5 billion in the past 15 months and receiving $345 billion in government investments and guarantees?The Citiboobs as The New York Post, which broke the news, calls them watched as the car chieftains got in trouble for flying their private jets to Washington to ask for bailouts, and the A.I.G. moguls got dragged before Congress for spending their bailout on California spa treatments. But the boobs still didnt get the message.
Then I turn to "About New York" only to find -- you guessed it: The New York Post:
Nothing puts Albany in a trance like watching the scaffold of lies that rises when a powerful figure tries to wiggle of out some political clumsiness or gracelessness. On Tuesday, The New York Post called Mr. Paterson the Lyin King for his hedged accounts of the Kennedy matter.
Now, in these days of economic spin out, can't the highly paid columnists of The Times come up with their own zingers? How much do they have to pay Murdoch in royalties for trading on his prior usage?Maybe I'll start reading The Times in the pages of The Post next time I take the subway.