The New Yorker's Joy of Sex Jokes Ruin Both Sex and Joy [Journalismism]

[KiRby]

Have you ever imagined what it'd be like if a New Yorker staffer tried to talk dirty with you? Their online editors feel your pain.
For a slideshow accompanying an article on the reissue of The Joy of Sex — yes, even the most highbrow title in the Condé Nast magazine empire resorts to pageview-generating visual features — Web producers asked their coworkers if anyone had a copy of the original edition. The result: an outpouring of sarcastic quippery that shows the staff is capable of finding words that rhyme with "sex." A sampling:

• I have a copy of “The Joy of More Sextets,” a twelve-tone piece by Milton Babbitt, if that’s any help.
  
• I have the Jewish (“The Oy of Sex”), Mormon (“The Joy of Sects”), and Hawaiian Jazz (“The Poi of Sax”) editions, but not that one.
• Unfortunately, I have only the southwestern (“The Joy of Tex Mex”) and the one some club kids left here the other night (“The Joy of X”).
• Fact-checking note: The “velvet buzzsaw” is not a power tool for cutting fabric.
• No, and it’s funny that I don’t because my first wife and I were the models for some of the drawings.

Here's an idea: With Condé Nast trying to cut costs, why not fire the Web producers and simply publish all of the New Yorker's internal mailing lists directly to the website?


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