It appears that the J in M.J. Rose’s name stands for “Julavits.”

Without naming names or citing any specific examples (or, for that matter, actually invoking an argument for why any of it is bad), M.J. Rose offers us yet another piece of flummery complaining about what she identifies as “whining” (and what the rest of us might call identifying and criticizing specific publishing issues so as to better understand them) on the blogosphere. Her ostensible point is “because there are over 195,000 books published a year and they can’t all get reviews in the NYTBR.”

Well, it’s clear that Ms. Rose fails to comprehend the argument. The amount of books being published is not the issue. It’s the substantive nature of how the current publishing industry is being covered and represented in print that the blogosphere is being taken to task. It’s not all bad. But as demonstrated here and at other places, it has been repeatedly shown that the NYTBR continues to give fiction (and specifically literary fiction) the shaft and maintain a balance of male-to-female book reviewers that is completely out of step with the current population (and, in particular, readers). (By the way, a Tanenhaus Brownie Watch is in the works for last Sunday.)

Second, what’s wrong with complaints anyway? Voicing grievances is often a good way to get a discussion going and it allows all of us to work together towards contemplating a solution. Plus, it serves as a catharsis for all involved. Publishing is a tough business, one that involves working on a book for years only to see a meager advance completely out of proportion with the labor expended. It’s enough to drive just about any stable person crazy.

But most importantly, there’s something important that needs to be said here. Why should anybody take an opinion seriously when the person who posits it continues to engage in a passive-aggressive approach to intellctualism without a specific example? I say this because Ms. Rose continues to perpetuate an image as a publishing wag, yet continuously refrains from stating her larger points, stopping at “You’ll notice I haven’t linked to any of the whining.” Either she’s afraid of offending or interested in getting out of her “arguments” when backed into a corner, presumably so that she can tell you in person, “Oh, I wasn’t really talking about you!”

If Ms. Rose has a beef with me or another blog, that’s fine. I’m not going to take offense. What I do take offense to is the idea of anyone presenting herself as an expert and then using their blog as some sort of reserved pulpit instead of contributing to the active discourse.

There have been many times where I’ve vehemently disagreed with many of the fine folks on the left, both publicly and privately. But I also respect them as adults — meaning that I know that they are grown up enough to engage in a conversation and not take some of my more exuberant views too much to heart (or vice versa). We’re all passionate about books and publishing, but that doesn’t mean we all think the same or can’t challenge each other.

So my question to Ms. Rose is this: Why not have the courage to say what you genuinely think so that some of us out here can actually understand your points? Or is that too much to expect from someone long in the habit of applying the hypocritical “etiquette” of Emily Post to the blogosphere?

It looks like the levels of post-terrorist incident guilt that we’ve had here in the States are being reproduced in London and affecting the literary world. Chris Cleave is asking whether or not it’s appropriate for him to promote a novel that includes a fictional terrorist attack at a soccer game.

As someone who forced himself to continue writing a screenplay involving terrorism the very week after 9/11 while in another country, I’d say that the answer for Cleave is very simple: grow some balls and don’t let the bastards get you down. These folks aren’t afraid. Why should writers be? To remain in a suspended state about whether art is appropriate or not is to let the terrorists win (or some similar crazed sentiment that isn’t so half-baked and hackneyed). It’s also damn spineless to boot.

God damn you all to hell, Dalkey! Quit this whole 100 books for $500 bidness! Why, for that price I could probably summon an outcall and maybe get the escort to read me some Flann O’Brien just before performing fellatio on me! Hell, maybe she could do both! (Yesterday, I felt my futon showing signs of collapse after two years of solid sleep and other activities. I turned on my side and, when I felt that nobody was there beside me, I weeped into a pile of hardcovers and rearranged these sturdy squares into the form of a woman under the blanket. Sadly, my penis collided into one of the spines, causing a large and painful bruise, and I have been applying ice to my crotch ever since. I understand if other people choose to stave off loneliness in other ways.) All this is a roundabout way of saying that you should give your money to Dalkey because what they do is fantastic and that nachos are nothing to be ashamed of.

With all the recent talk about movie box office slumps, could it be that the declining grosses have something to do with the rising ticket price? In the past year, we’ve seen movie ticket prices rise from $8 to $10. Those two dollars may be small potatoes for most of us, but let’s say that you’re a family of four operating on an extremely tight budget. Suddenly, you’re now paying eight extra dollars per week (or what was once the price of one movie ticket).

Factor in the loud movie ads that thunder during those hideous “20 Minute Countdown” presentations before the movie, working against parents who are trying to get the kids settled down, and the fact that movies have seriously declined in quality, and the problem from a family perspective becomes apparent. Moreover, considering the rise in talkers, I wonder if this has less to do with home theatre environments and more to do with walking into a theatre and hearing not some soft music playing over the speakers so that people can settle down, but getting a projected movie with advertisements and hollow trivia.

And lest any sleazy Michael Medved types come around here preaching about “indecent” films that families don’t really want to see, I don’t think it’s the content or type of movie that matters. But families do go to movies. All types of movies. Everything from the latest Dreamworks animated epic to a serious drama.

If the movie business truly wanted to halt the gradual taper, then they might consider (1) reducing the ticket price from $10 to $8 by promising movie theatres a greater percentage of the gross, (2) reduce second-week dropoff by reducing supply (i.e., number of screens) and increasing deamnd, (3) demand a theatrical environment that is less intrusive and ad-centric and that actually relaxes people as they sit down, and (4) stop treating audiences as morons and make smart, entertaining, and story-centric movies.

Gawker has been mining this MySpace blog about a 26 year old working in the publishing industry who was fired for blogging. The only thing we have to say is that we’re extremely distrubed that anyone in their mid-twenties would use “totally” on a regular basis in their writing (and to be clear on this, using this modifier before the verb rather than after), let alone hired in the publishing industry or (since things have LIKE TOTALLY turned up for bluegirl24ny), a copy editor.

We wouldn’t mind being copy editors ourselves, but we haven’t been hired because we TOTALLY read the Chicago Manual of Style for pleasure (preferring to revere language instead of butchering it), we live in San Francisco (about as far removed from the center of publishing as one could get), and we don’t really have the sexy curves of a nubile twentysomething young lady who plops nothing but Nutrabars on a supermarket checkout scanner. So we’re SOL. TOTALLY!