We mean that.
So a few days ago, we went to The Atlantic‘s 150th Birthday Party. Unfortunately, some of the other media folks who attended said that the party was a giant bust. But we’d like to speak in sympathy of the devil.
Folks, it’s The Atlantic. You don’t go to an Atlantic party expecting a riotous drunken shindig where you wake up on some strange street corner with half your clothes missing and a scar where your kidney used to be. There are some publications that throw good, crazy parties. Vice is one of them. Mass Appeal is another. The old, Puck Building-era New York Press was another.
But The Atlantic isn’t any of those publications. We went there in hopes of hanging out with a few friends, having some ok-ish wine and seeing Patti Smith sing. We did all of these. That said:
1) The whole idea of having the party be open to the public? Genius. The whole idea of putting it into execution by having party guests sit in a theater watching VIPs party on stage? Not so genius. Guys/girls… Anyone who goes to a party being thrown by a magazine like The Atlantic is likely an intellectual equal of anyone on stage. They’re going to (rightly) feel offended. Then again, the party was thrown to celebrate “The American Idea” and plutocracy is certainly an American idea.
2) Everyone who kept whispering to each other while Patti Smith was playing, you’re probably going to end up in hell.
3) Despite how awkward he seemed on stage playing to P.J. O’Rourke and company, opening act Josh Ritter was a good sport he traveled straight from The Atlantic‘s party to a gig in PA.
4) Moby, your “I’m just a poor indie musician” shtick is getting old. Real old.
After the jump, pictures. Lots and lots of pictures.
Mayor Bloomberg and Atlantic EIC James Bennet chillax the best they can.
Famous writers learn that part of the job description includes photo ops, yet again.
Like we said, famous writers.
P.J. O’Rourke and Moby talk royalties.
The HuffPo’s Arianna Huffington and Roy Sekoff: Haiku mastery is go.
Josh Ritter learns its hard to be a folkie at a media party.
Patti Smith: Surprisingly gracious to the cell phone junkies.