London in New York

There is a reason why companies routinely negotiate palatable terms of separation with their key and valued employees rather than discarding them in the middle of the night, without any form of notice, a severance package or separation agreement. In the estimation of the Consigliere, it was foolish and ill advised for Dwelling Quest (”DQ” not to be confused with Dairy Queen) to seduce Kelly Kreth to leave the security of her new position working for motfu Michael Shvo at Shvo Marketing, and to accept their counter-offer to return to DQ, only to set her up to fail and dismiss her shortly after her arrival without any reasonable offer of an amicable separation agreement or severance package.

Unethical? Perhaps. Bad business? Absolutely, especially since Kelly helped build the Dwelling Quest brand. Rewarding an insubordinate employee for an invasion of Kelly Kreth’s privacy which resulted in the making public of Kelly’s semi-private online diary, subjecting her to humililation, embarrassment and expulsion from her job is nonsensical.

Rumor has it, however, to add insult to injury that Kelly Kreth is now after being fired, not only facing the threat of a law suit, Dwelling Quest CEO Daren Hornig has allegedly made it clear that he intends to see to it that Kelly never work in this town again. Overkill? Maybe he will take away her milk money too? For what? Speaking to the Press or at least the Real Estate Press, including Curbed(see: “DwellingQuest Cans PR Head for Blogging?”) and coming soon, Crains. From what I know, the only thing that Kelly owns is her dog. Talk about kicking a dog when they are down. This is akin to knocking off the milk monitor and taking her milk money. Mr. Hornig, I know Jet Blue, I have ridden Jet Blue and Dwelling Quest is no Jet Blue!

Daren Hornig, in a personal networking meeting with the Consigliere less than a year ago referred to the wannabe monolithic real estate concern as the “Jet Blue” of Real Estate. During said meeting Mr. Hornig ironically joked of his curiosity of Ms. Kreth’s semi-private online diary, which only became public recently. Mr. Hornig, need I advise you that I would suspect that Jet Blue’s egalitarian management style which fostered excellent customer service and inspired widespread loyalty of the consumer was not developed merely by attaching the color blue to their brand, but rather offering their employees the same level of courtesy and respect that they expect their employees to offer the consumer marketplace.

What does it say about the character and values of your organization that you reward the Watergate like behavior of a certain employee whose conduct potentially amounts to a gross level of insubordination, an invasion of privacy of another executive level employee, causing said executive level person humiliation, the loss of her job and potentially being blackballed in the industry? What does it further say that ironically the watergate like intruder ascended to the mantle of Director of Public Relations while you simulataneously take steps to crush the individual who helped build your brand? What are your values Sir? I await with baited breath for the press release announcing your shiney PR wunderkind. But I am more interested to know whether it will contain the nitty gritty details about how she out maneuvered Kelly Kreth for her job at Dwelling Quest?

What does it say that once your organization unfairly undermined the professional security of your former Director of Public Relations, that you would choose to pay the not so inexpensive legal fees of Mintz Levin Ferris Glovsky & Popeo than write a simple severance check to allow said director a graceful exit if she no longer fit into your long term plans? Is that asking too much or would you rather just beat her head against the Curb as a final measure?

The Real Estate business is competitive. Companies certainly have growing pains. No doubt yours does, but not as a result of anything done by Kelly Kreth. This is a problem of your own making. Now would be the time, however, to right a wrong. I highly recommend that you back off your kelly vs. GOLIATH posture and cease and desist in your efforts to crush a small individual who was critical to extending your brand. To do otherwise will likely result in a rising up of those devoted to the cause of Saving Kelly which will only lead to DQ being perceived in the market place as the antithesis of Jet Blue. Because at the end of the day it really is about character. How can we expect that customers will be treated any better than your own former executives?

(sounds like a Britney Spears song)

THIS BLOG SUCKS…and so do I. I am as blunt as a butter knife. Butter knives make bigger holes when you stab anything with them than do sharp knives. And that is no less true with communication. Most of what I write tends to piss some people off. My agenda? I wear it on my shirt sleeve. And that’s fine by me. I leave the snark and the tragic irony to others. They do it much better than I ever could. Besides which, if you write exclusively to appeal to others than your voice is contrived. For all I care, you can take this blog and shove it…..really. I am not phucking with you either.

Surely, many of us are guilty of verbally masturbating online and trying to rope a dope a person or two into reading our stylish narratives detailing the latest profound insight that we have come up with. Contrast that with masturbating offline. The sane or semi-sane among us masturbate behind closed doors and not on a subway platform or on 5th Avenue. Hell, I once declined, after a dinner at Mario Batali’s Babbo in the west village, to shtup an ex girlfriend in an alley near Washington Square Park. Whatever it was I had no interest in anyone else catching my performance. I can see the headline now, “Two Lawyers Caught F_King in Alley.” I would just rather do my business, do it in private and get back to my day or go to sleep. Call me boring. Again, I really do not care. But since I have thrown my hat into this blogging arena, I am going to write what makes sense to me. If it makes sense to you great. If you think I suck….even better. Feel free to leave some disturbing harassing comment in the spaces provided below.

Did I always feel this confident? Nope. Not at all. But you turn a corner in life and realize that if you have to be true to anyone, it begins with yourself. The hypocrisy of some disturbs me greatly, whether it is those mingling in the fast lane in New York City, psuedo artists, folks posing as considerate, kind and loving people or those extolling their virtues as honest busines people, who in fact suck. Gender politics, actual politics, fraud, bullshit, it all bothers me. There is no irony in it. If I think something or someone sucks and can illustrate it with sufficient objective and subjective evidence, sorry for you that you happened to cross my radar screen. The fact is that there are some truly “busted” souls who relish profiteering off the ignorance and weakness of the masses. But make no mistake, I do not presume to be Ralph Nader or your local consumer advocate.

The truth is that the media in this town is all about poking fun at their celebrity and media friends who are all “in on the joke.” Well you know what, I am a bit of an outsider who is somewhat inside but not so much that I am in on the joke. Make your snarky comments about my irrelevance as I writer, commentator or social documentarian in this town but you know what? You can even call me VOLATILE. Then go fug yourself really good and slow with tons of lube because again, I honestly do not care. You cannot shame me into shutting the phuck up, even if you manage a hedge fund and pipe the sauseeche into a little red head with a big cheesey tuchis. And from what I understand, if you feel singled out to some degree by that comment, there are an awful lot of hedge funds in this town and on the 4 Train this morning I saw at least two women who fit that description alone. So I assure you that you are not the only Mr. Big rushing to the aid of another Carrie Bradshaw wannabe. But perhaps there are not that many blogging at a Barnes & Noble at Lincoln Center on the Upper West Side. But since we are on that subject, just a fundraising idea for the little “out of work” blogger. Why not arrange for double decker bus tours to “look at the blogger” lining up her index cards for the post that she spends “10 minutes” writing.

Today, sadly I received the statement referenced below from Kelly Kreth, who is the author of THE UNBEARABLE HEAVINESS OF BEING by charmingly neurotic, the 5 year keeper of a diary on opendiary.com, and the former inhouse publicist for Daren Hornig’s Dwelling Quest, a real estate services firm in NYC. As most of you know, I have some issues with the contrived tragic irony which fills the entries of many chic lit blogs. Kelly is different. Her stories are genuine, honest and real and were maintained within the semi-private opendiary sphere. Kelly did not court publicity for herself but rather spent time successfully obtaining it for her employer in establishing it’s brand in the market and for charitable enterprises such as Phones 4 Life. So, seeing Kelly one of the “good guys” and very much a charitable and generous soul herself go down for the count, largely for the expression of her first amendment rights, in what amounts to an invasion of her semi-private diary, is disheartening to say the least.

“After being at Dwelling Quest 2 years and then getting a great job offer to be Michael Shvo’s publicist at Shvo Marketing, I took it, but a week later Dwelling Quest, begged me to come back with a tasty counter offer. When I arrived back I had gotten a new asst. of their choosing who was insubordinate and hindered me in performing my job. I made countless complaints. For the last two years I’ve had excellent reviews, raises etc. I have attended every top producer’s event and have one employee of the month. Because this new asst. didn’t want to report to me, she sneakily hacked into my online diary and printed out personal pages where I gave office workers snarky epithets. As a result, today I got fired. (Journalists, better than anyone should value Freedom of Speech; here is a blatant destruction of it.) I’m beyond devastated at how cruel and evil someone could be. I can’t afford my rent, fund my dog, etc. This after leaving just a week ago, a 90K per year job because I was begged by the CEO to come back to Dwelling Quest.” (Photo: Kelly Kreth)

The inhumanity of what has transpired here is sickening. Can I say this again people? It is a “phucking blog” and not even a blog, but a diary, the connotations of which should not be lost on savvy readers. IT IS NEVER APPROPRIATE to use your voice to undermine someone’s employment or to undermine someone’s employment because they happen to blog or make negative comments to your blog. CABICHE?

I only hope that This Fish Smells Like Tuna and a certain other blogger with their counter surveillance and blogging espionage tactics hear me loud and clear. Kelly is a most intelligent and sweet woman. Many men would certainly love to give her the shaft, but not the kind however, that Dwelling Quest and Mr. Hornig, have offered. You should be ashamed of yourselves. Proof positive that cajones and a heart in the same individual are difficult to come by.

The only real mistake that Kelly made was accepting a counter-offer from a douchebag to return to a company that took her leaving to appreciate her value, only to discard her like a piece of human trash without notice or severance, as they move forward in their Quest for further profits. See the internal email exhibiting the company line from their Chief Administrative Officer, Tracey L. Attis:

Due to the nature of circumstances and the recent actions of our former co-worker, Kelly Kreth, I urge you not to discuss this matter with any outside parties. This includes Kelly, the media, etc. If you are contacted by the press, please direct the call to Daren. And if you are the recipient of any communication sent from Kelly pertaining to her dismissal (i.e., an email message, letter, etc), we ask that you share it with me because of a pending situation. It is imperative that no communication via email or via phone with Kelly occurs in the Quest Group offices. While we wish Kelly the best in her future endeavors, we do need to put this behind us and continue to build upon one of the strongest, best years that our company has enjoyed.

Anyone looking for a top Real Estate publicist or marketing communications professional with over 14 years of experience in real estate PR as well as a wide varieity of other marcom management experiences in multiple industries, feel free to contact: a2dkelly@aol.com

P.S. Yo Judy if you want some people with “testicles” to read chic lit why dont’cha check out Kelly Kreth. SK will never be Amy Sohn or Candace Bushnell….even as she continues to lift from their work on a regular basis. What’s your encore after the Greek Tragedy? Please do not say, This Fish Needs A Penis. Judy darling, please tell me that your prediction of the future has less of the soul less class of female bloggers and more of real chics. Men read too. Trust me. After shtupping the likes of SK the last thing we want to do is read about her. So Judy babe, we know your balls are bigger than mine for sure. No argument from me. In fact, I would gladly lick em for ya. I know that there are real chics out there…can you please have your research lackeys hit the google search button? It just may land you on the blog of some fabulous chic men are actually interested in reading.

Friday night for me is generally the social sabbath. Once I leave my office rarely will you find me any place but the temple for my body or resting in the solitude of my apartment, alone in my bed on Friday evening. Navigating the work week and divying up the social calendar with Gregory in order to make it to Friday with my sanity in tact is a weekly exercise. As many New Yorkers know, unlike other cities, Friday Night is usually the least important of the social networking nights around town.

Social Life in Manhattan can be overwhelming at times. The volume of private parties, special events and charitable fundraisers is seemingly limitless, especially of late with the NYC Relief for Hurricane Katrina fully underway. What one chooses to patronize is a function of your interests, values, goals as well as obviously your level of access, not to say anything of whatever spare time and energy you have left after working like a typical New Yorker, which is quite hard. For many, not being on the list or being able to get in becomes the raison d’ etre for going to a certain event. I am convinced that the success of certain events in this town is purely a result of a short guess list and then publicizing or leaking it to the world at large only to provide event planners and publicists the option to choose from among those who angle or beg for inclusion. (Photo: Shaun Rose, Alicia Post & Joe Richards of Fuel For Truth and Chris London at the recent American Red Cross fundraiser at Rock Candy for Victims of Hurricane Katrina sponsored by Theorice which raised nearly $10,000)

The week started out in promising fashion with a cocktail party to celebrate the 40th Anniversary of the D&D Building. But, it was also Fashion Week, the United Nations was in session and it seemed like every dignitary on the planet was in the city for that or for the Clinton Global Initiative. Leave it to Bill Clinton to figure out how to remain the leader of the free world, a President without borders, wielding more power out of office than he had in office.  An extraordinary volume of partying and fundraising continues around our town for victims of Hurricane Katrina. The most prevalent symbol on the New York social scene has been the logo of the American Red Cross. Even if some believe that "Charities Are For Suckers" and that Hurricane Katrina Relief should be best left to the federal government, the level of fundraising activity rivals that of post 9/11. Ironically four years later as we contemplate rebuilding the Gulf Coast region and New Orleans, there is still an empty space where the Twin Towers once stood. What really disturbs me beyond the obvious is the incompetence of a host of regional politicians who have not made rebuilding the towers a greater priority. As if traffic around town was not jammed enough, The Feast of San Gennaro on Mulberry Street contributed to the sense that everything important was in New York City all at once.

New York is buzzing yet I have remained a voyeuer on the sidelines for much of the past week, sucking up the news online and in the newspapers. I have been feeling somewhat introspective of late and desirous of greater intimacy than the volume of large scale events around town seem to provide.  When I walked out of my office to get another Starbucks coffee on Friday, I could not help but notice how the Sheraton hotel which was location for the CGI was guarded like Fort Knox.  So what did I do? I opted to mix amongst friends in more intimate settings.

On Thursday Night I was invited by friend, Susan Shin of "Shin Advisors" to cover The Grand Opening of the the Sara Tecchia Roma-New York Gallery on West 20th Street. The evening featured Water Flames by Makoto Fujimura. Mr. Fujimura’s Water Flames Exhibition will continue through October 23rd with Artist Talk "A Journey Behind Water Flames" scheduled for October 7th from 7-9 PM. The vibe in the gallery was superb, a great mix of art connoseurs and a beautiful and ecelectic array of uptown and downtown movers and shakers who mixed, mingled and enjoyed the Oriel Wine served along with yummy passed hors d’ouevres. Afterwards, a cocktail party and a spectacular home style gourmet Italian dinner was held upstairs at Fiamma in Soho for friends of the gallery, and I am pleased to report that that I concur with the excellent reviews that Fiamma has already previously received. (Photo: Sara Tecchia, Makoto Fujimura & Susan Shin)

On Friday evening, I broke my cardinal rule and head to FIZZ to meet Mona Wyatt and friends for an intimate gathering to celebrate her birthday. The bubbly was poured, Veuve Clicquot to be precise, and we toasted the sexy and philanthropically inclined red head who admirably used her birthday to raise funds for one of her favorite charities, Stages of Learning. The three additional Bombay Sapphire gimlets on the rocks that I added to the bubbly made for a long slumber on Saturday. But you know I am feeling happy and relaxed when I order the Bombay   (Photo: Dawn Palo, Mona Wyatt & Christine Cachot) more photos

*Note: Look for links to the full photo albums soon. Sorry for the delay.

Imagine a world where questioning the originality, authenticity, character and depth of one writer’s output was met with threats to undermine the critic’s employment, an effort to curtail First Amendment rights, and finally blackmail. It could never happen in America, right? How many “real writers” would go to such lengths to stifle an unfavorable assessment of their work?

The new “New Chic Slit” refers to a brand of female writer that hone their skills on blogging platforms from the comfort of their plush Manhattan apartments, whom in the opinion of this commentator would do mankind a service by slitting their wrists rather than attempting to slit the throats of anyone who levels a critique at their questionable art form, the success of which is an anathema to many on the right side of the bell curve.

These bloggers who take their cue (if not lifting their entire craft) from the work and success of Candace Bushnell, Amy Sohn, Sex and the City, are all girly and cute. On the surface it may taste like chic-lit but underlying their work is a smug contempt for the masculine, a disrespect for or at least indifference toward true feminine ideals and an unhealthy intolerance for any form of critique, even though they are viewed widely as copycat or “cover” artists.

I was recently exposed rather harshly to this unhealthy level of intolerance after I blogged about Stephanie Klein. Let the record show that when the depth, meaning, character and originality of one writer’s work was challenged by numerous bloggers, including this one, it was met with the following scorched earth response by that individual and her surrogates:

1- One blog was served with a CD in an effort to stifle their legitimate first amendment right to parody said writer
2-This blogger had his employment relationship threatened by another surrogate; and
3-After it was “ironically” revealed that said writer may be a plagiarist herself, her surrogates adopted a more elitist posture, resorting to class distinctions, belittling the relative net worth and socioeconomic status of the Consigliere (via a ceasless barage of emails from various anonymous gmail and blogger addresses and postings to other websites) in a vein effort to marginalize him.
4-Blackmail: When that did not work, they tried next to impugn the integrity and volunteerism of those involved in Manhattan Society.com and suggest that it was in fact some large for profit enterprise defrauding New Yorkers, when it is in fact a volunteer effort of a few individuals, including this writer, that assists in the promotion, publicity and networking of charitable fundraising in New York City, recognized by nearly every major New York charitable organization as a legitimate conduit and worthwhile FREE PRESS. They threatened to report this writer to the IRS and the FTC for Charity Fraud. Use of knowledge of a crime in an effort to negotiate or protract some benefit is itself criminal.
4-Other bloggers who have commented and supported the Tale of Two Sisters parody blog were also subjected to ceaseless harassment from said blogger and her surrogates, “anonymously.”

Why am I not surprised that a spoiled princess would have her own surrogates who are also elitist snots, grasping for straws to illustrate their relative status over anyone else or worse? In the soul less world of this crew, obviously unless you receive a book deal from Judith Regan or manage a Hedge Fund, you are but the working proletariat who’s opinions are inconsequential to the Queen and her followers. I mean how dare the little people speak out against you. Contrast this with the critique leveled at a “REAL WRITER” Amy Sohn who posts her negative reviews and angry letters on her own web site for the world to see. A real artist recognizes that critique is part and parcel of being an artist. It goes with the territory. Wisely, said writer and her troops have not harassed the New York literati for their critiques which were leveled below. She (or her alter ego as it was called by another blogger appropriately) instead picked on a variety of secondary bloggers.

Alex Blagg: A Modest & Indecent Proposal
Young Manhattanite: And That’s What it is All About
Young Manhattanite: It’s Like Faking An Orgasm With A Blow-Up Doll
Young Manhattanite, Tastes Like Chick-Lit
sf’ist: Get Ur Geek On
fishbowlNY: Imposters!How dare you! Only I can blog about my fabulous and fascinating sex life!
The Lusty Lady: a very Malice entry
Lindsay Roberston: someone’s head is so far up her own “rosebud”
A Tale of Two Sisters: a public service announcement from the fabulous goldsteins
Subtext Whore: The De-Klein of Miss Klein
HollywoodPhony.com: Yet if I was to punch you, I would go to jail
Luke Ford: Chris London vs. Stephanie Klein
MeMe First: The weblog internet queen of Manhattan
Bring Back Sincerity: The Compelling Story of the Girl Who STILL Worries About Her Weight
Capital Region People: The “Craptacular” Stephanie Klein
Overheard in New York: The Voice of the Big Apple-Blogga Please
His Fault: Why Stephanie is still single
TMFTML: Your blog is so self-indulgent Stephanie Klein sent you a box of tampons and a note that says, “Get over it.”
Gawker: Greek Tragedy: The Blogger Book Deal
DC’ist: what circa-1999 blogger do we go for next who will have a sense of humor about it? Stephanie Klein already has people lining up across the Mid-Atlantic to mock her, and she gets mad. Yawn. We’ll stick to the locals -quoting The Cleveland Park Junior League
Lindsayism: Straight up & Braggy: The Other Side of Fame
Alex Blagg: The Greek Tragedy
Alex Blagg: Profiles in Douchebaggette’ery

PREDATORY
The irony is these Chic Slit writers come from affluent backgrounds with barely a hint of stress, drama and devoid of any real pain than a credit card bill for another pair of Jimmy Choos that their Trust Fund or Daddy will not pay for. Their manufactured sass appeal with the backdrop of New York City, in the case of one I refer to as the Puff Daddy of Chic Lit, sells to middle of the road folks who can identify with the poor little rich chic with apparently similar problems. Her literary art form is however, is as predatory as the psychologist who keeps you in therapy and on medications so that your weekly installments continue to support his golf game.

This Predatory class of bloggers seek only to profiteer off the proliferation of female blogs, and feed off the notion that their narcissism is a valid cultural industry. Their angst is, however, largely contrived and distilled perfectly to fit a Madison Avenue concept for marketability to fill the gaping void. Who they are and what they are is carefully scripted caricature of femininity that can be marketed towards those to the middle and left of center on the bell curve, an audience of idiot savants receptive to finding solace in feminine cliches.

The incubator for Stephanie Klein’s “Greek Tragedy” was her position as a Creative Director at a global advertising agency, Madision Avenue’s Young and Rubicam. An ideal platform from which to develop and program her prose just so to prey on those left of center of the bell curve or the lower middle class, conveniently on the heels of the end of Sex and the City and her “starter marriage.” Whatever sisterhood that these predatory bloggers belong to is not ground in any congruent sense of femininity other than “self entitlement.” In short they are the “niggers” or the pimps of the feminine playing off of feminine cliches that appeal to the sympathetic ears of the mediocre masses.

There are no meaningful lessons for the reader beyond self absorption being marketed as a healthy thing. Predatory bloggers have no real pain in their lives that can in any way resemble the class struggles and real pain that their target market feels. That women who work, support families, are severely overweight or have real love life or financial problems somehow find solace in these vapid self centered daily diatribes is quite sad. How can someone sipping Sancerre at a trendy West Village restaurant with her chiclets in lingerie blouses, kvetching about her starter marriage and failure to obtain the requisite alimony package to supplement her trust fund, ever comprehend? The writers prose is devoid of any soul beyond inspiring sympathy in her audience for what??? Herself.

They want you to feel their pain, yet there is no pain other than one scripted to sell the notion of themselves as deeply compassionate human beings. (reference: another writer’s self indulgent rant “and all the Kings men” illustrating to her readers the depth of her compassion and existential angst over what to do in the face of tragedy in New Orleans inspiring sympathy for the conundrum of her own pain over the inhumanity of Hurricane Katrina, yet not providing a single link to the Hurricane Relief effort. Why? Might her readers leave her self induglent blog?)

Ironically, their audience is usually far more worthy of sympathy and likely facing far more serious problems in terms of their own survival, like the female artist struggling to get by in NYC on a $30K secretarial or waitressing job. While SK’s audience would learn more about life struggles perhaps from such an individual, she does not have time to become Stephanie Klein. If she is to be commended for anything, it is for filling the gaping void. The difference being that few on the right side of the bell curve, consider her a meaningful voice on or for women, New York, sexuality or relationships. She only adds to the gender political equation.

BUSTED
Character, humility and any having any boundaries or notion of fair play are but foreign concepts to this “Busted” class of women. They prostitute the souless aspects of femininty delving deep into such profound topics as the depth of their self absorbtion. Why “busted” instead of broken? As my friend Ray said to me, “broken is sort of what happens when you drop your digital camera or your iPod. It sucks but you can always get it fixed. Busted is like taking a shot to the head from Mike Tyson, which you never recover from.” That is what I mean by “busted.” They are soulless mercenaries interested in only one thing, shoving their prose down your throat and making sure you like it and if you don’t, then you are to simply shut the fuck up and not mess with their cultivation of a fan base, increasing readership and their almighty technorati ranking.

BLOCK COMMENTARY
These bloggers block any commentary which does not otherwise confirm the relative wisdom, talent and insightfulness of the writer. Their link monopoly extends only to those within their band of sister bloggers, but in the case of one blogger in particular, she regularly only links back to herself and prior examples of literary brilliance on the referenced topic. Linkage within this growing sisterhood of Chic Slit bloggers is limited to those who worship at their alter exclusively. Stephanie Klein’s blog is so self consumed that one would be hard pressed to find a link that allows you to escape her web site, unless you are a sycophantic fan, or a fellow blogger from the same school, e.g. “This Fish“, who can drive traffic to her site.

POST PARTEM
How perposterous is it that literary wunderkinds such as Stephanie Klein, whose work at best amounts to “cover art“(and who has already been accused of plagiarism), dare get angry then when critics of their prose engage them in a most basic and valid inquiry as to the relative authenticity, character and origin of their work? Even more perposterous when you consider especially that these cover artists offer no acknowledgement whatsoever that Sex and the City, My Big Fat Greek Wedding or Amy Sohn have had any influence over their craft. That my friends is called Chutzpah with a capital “HUH”

Ironically, Benjamin Wagner the one man who legend has it, has been intimate with both Stephanie Klein and Heather Hunter, is himself now blogging about the media attention that he is garnering for recording cover versions of famous songs, putting them on iTunes so that fans of the original artists will stumble upon his remakes and perhaps download them to their iPod’s when they look up the works from the original artists. I await the New York Times Fashion & Style column on Mr. Wagner. Perhaps our society has evolved to a point where there are no original ideas or art left. Is cover art the new art? And is that bad or good? One critic even states that “Plagiarism is necessary. Progess implies it.”