What has surely been the most embarrassing chapter in the very embarrassing four-year history of the eXile is apparently at an end.
The intramural snafu which resulted in the ouster of the eXile's original editorial staff has been, to put it as vaguely as possible, resolved. Mssrs. Ames and McElwee, as well as yours truly, are back in control of this miserable newspaper.
For reasons that should be obvious to the reader, I am reluctant, at this time, to explore the issues surrounding the eXile's temporary collapse, and its sudden return. I should say, however, that the intervening period saw the rapid dissolution of many serious misconceptions on the part of all the parties involved.
For instance, certain figures in the publishing house Ne Spat, the majority interest in the eXile, were introduced to the difference between an offer of investment, and actual investment.
Kevin, Mark and I, meanwhile, were most unceremoniously sent hurtling into a nightmare previously never thought imaginable by any of us -- an utter vacuum of public outcry at our closing. Nearly a week passed after the initial announcement before we received a single letter of support. True, the letters did pour in later, in large enough numbers, but the white knights with fat wallets we expected would come to our rescue not only never came, they didn't even send a goddamn Hallmark.
It would probably not be accurate to say that Jake "Sex Machine" Rudnitsky had any serious illusions shattered by his experience as Editor-in-Chief. I doubt if even Jake thought he could competently run a newspaper by himself. Jake is being maintained on the staff for the simple reason that the sheer awfulness of his "product" was the single largest factor in ensuring our return. Advertisers threatened to walk en masse at first exposure to Jake's literary talents. I leave it to readers to decide whether or not we influenced his editorial decisions in absentia.
The full story of what happened last month will, I promise you, be revisited at a later date. Right now, though, I'm frankly very tired of talking about it and, given the events of last week, feel sure no one is much interested in hearing about it at length. Suffice to say that we're back -- and just in time, I might add. Imagine looking for a job at The Washington Post at a time like this!
About this war... there are plenty of things to say about it, and we tried to get to most of the more important things in this issue. But there is one particular issue, now arising as a result of the war, which is specifically relevant to the recent eXile mess, and our return. This is the worldwide surrender of humor to make way for war hysteria.
Careful readers of the news will have noted this week that the cable channel Comedy Central has temporarily pulled the popular "Daily Show," hosted by Jon Stewart. The channel's explanation is that news parody is inappropriate right now, when the news itself is so grave. As one of the show's producers explained, "Irony is dead right now." The channel is also carefully editing reruns of the Matt Stone/Trey Parker show "That's My Bush," removing any parts of the show which might be particularly offensive to our august leader.
Meanwhile, America's leading humor publication, the Onion, announced this week that it is halting all new material, and that its next issues will be reruns of older, lighter articles. Apparently that's as opposed to their newer, more innovative, more dangerous material, which so violently shakes popular conceptions.
These organizations were all responding to the troubling rhetorical question: "Who could laugh at a time like this? What kind of heartless monster would even dare?"
Hey, we have no idea, either. If we meet the guy, we promise -- we'll hang him from the first tree.