In the New Yorker...

[Front-Ranger]

Mr. Peanut and Benson are hilarious in that article! Don't miss it! Also, strangely, I was entranced by James Wood's article on Keith Moon's drumming.

[Jeff Wrangler]

Those who have dined at the Spotted Pig during various social events in New York may be interested in the profile, in the November 22 issue, of April Bloomfield, the kitchen talent half of the partners who founded the Spotted Pig and are credited with provoking a "gastropub revolution" in Manhattan.

[Meryl]

Those who have dined at the Spotted Pig during various social events in New York may be interested in the profile, in the November 22 issue, of April Bloomfield, the kitchen talent half of the partners who founded the Spotted Pig and are credited with provoking a "gastropub revolution" in Manhattan.

Thanks for the info, Jeff.  I've just read part of it, and it's very enjoyable.  John, Amanda and I ate at the Spotted Pig once, and it's a cool place.  The food can be a bit odd, but it's good.

Here's the link to the article:

http://www.newyorker.com/reporting/2010/11/22/101122fa_fact_collins?currentPage=all

[Front-Ranger]

A very interesting issue this week. I'm now reading all about the Vatican Library. It's enormous! So many ancient text, both sacred and secular.

[serious crayons]

Last night I read George Saunders' short story, "Escape from Spiderhead" in the Dec. 20/27 issue. Excellent, as Saunders' stories usually are. Such a creepy fictional metaphor for ... well, I'll let you see for yourselves.

[Jeff Wrangler]

A very interesting issue this week. I'm now reading all about the Vatican Library. It's enormous! So many ancient text, both sacred and secular.

I haven't gotten to that article yet, but I'm really looking forward to it!

[Jeff Wrangler]

Well, I just found another whopper of a goof in The New Yorker that should have been caught. In the January 3 issue, I'm reading Jeffrey Toobin's article about Nicholas Marsh, the government prosecutor who committed suicide in the wake of the Ted Stevens prosecution.

Toobin writes that the family of Marsh's mother "settled in Kentucky in the seventeenth century." Well, perhaps, if the family is Native American. There were no white settlements in Kentucky until the 1770s--which, of course, is the eighteenth century.

[Aloysius J. Gleek]

“Spiderward”
by Barry Blitt

[Penthesilea]

Well, I just found another whopper of a goof in The New Yorker that should have been caught. In the January 3 issue, I'm reading Jeffrey Toobin's article about Nicholas Marsh, the government prosecutor who committed suicide in the wake of the Ted Stevens prosecution.

Toobin writes that the family of Marsh's mother "settled in Kentucky in the seventeenth century." Well, perhaps, if the family is Native American. There were no white settlements in Kentucky until the 1770s--which, of course, is the eighteenth century.

You know, in school I learned that the English way of counting the centuries is different from the German one:

1401 to 1500 = fifteenth century in German, but fourtheenth century in English.
The 1770s would consequently be in the seventeenth century, just like the article said.

And I remember quite some guided tours through British castles, ruins, manors in which it was referred to the centuries as I learned it as school.
Your comment about it being wrong made me curious and I googled. Found this on wikipedia:

In Swedish, Danish, Norwegian and Finnish, centuries are typically not named ordinally, but according to the hundreds part of the year, and consequently centuries start at even multiples of 100. For example, Swedish nittonhundratalet (or 1900-talet), Danish and Norwegian nittenhundredetallet (or 1900-tallet) and Finnish tuhatyhdeksänsataaluku (or 1900-luku) refer unambiguously to the years 1900–1999. The same system is used informally in English. For example, the years 1900–1999 are sometimes referred to as the nineteen hundreds (1900s). This is similar to the English decade names (1980s, meaning the years 1980–1989).
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Centuries

There you go. While Toobin may not be technically correct, he's also not completely wrong, he's just being informally (now we can argue if The New Yorker's standard should require the formally correct counting method ).

[southendmd]

You know, in school I learned that the English way of counting the centuries is different from the German one:

1401 to 1500 = fifteenth century in German, but fourtheenth century in English.
The 1770s would consequently be in the seventeenth century, just like the article said.

And I remember quite some guided tours through British castles, ruins, manors in which it was referred to the centuries as I learned it as school.
Your comment about it being wrong made me curious and I googled. Found this on wikipedia:

In Swedish, Danish, Norwegian and Finnish, centuries are typically not named ordinally, but according to the hundreds part of the year, and consequently centuries start at even multiples of 100. For example, Swedish nittonhundratalet (or 1900-talet), Danish and Norwegian nittenhundredetallet (or 1900-tallet) and Finnish tuhatyhdeksänsataaluku (or 1900-luku) refer unambiguously to the years 1900–1999. The same system is used informally in English. For example, the years 1900–1999 are sometimes referred to as the nineteen hundreds (1900s). This is similar to the English decade names (1980s, meaning the years 1980–1989).
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Centuries

There you go. While Toobin may not be technically correct, he's also not completely wrong, he's just being informally (now we can argue if The New Yorker's standard should require the formally correct counting method ).

I sense some confusion.  

While it's true that in English, we refer to 1900-1999 as the "nineteen hundreds", we also refer to it as the "twentieth century".  

So, something occurring in the 1770s can be said to be in the "seventeen hundreds" (informally), but it is the "eighteenth century" (ordinally).