The ‘Fesser, whose many felicitous observations and coinages are on regular offer at Pullquote*, has an expression he reserves for noting especially entertaining outbreaks of intellectual pugilism. He borrowed it from hockey. In homage to the blood-thirstiest fans in the first few rows who make it their business to egg on any actual or potential fisticuffs, he’ll e-mail me when, say, Dale Peck and [insert novelist here] exchange blows to say he’s “Pounding on the Plexiglass/Spilling My Popcorn.” Of late this has been abbreviated to a simple “PTP/SMP.”
Recent history suggests two PTP/SMP moments are possibly imminent. One may break out when The Elegant Variation gets a load of Michael Blowhard’s counter-common-wisdom on the NYTBR shuffle, the other when Emma at The Fold Drop reads Caitlin Flanagan’s cover story on feminists and nannies in the new Atlantic Monthly. (This issue is not yet on-line, and I have to say that as a subscriber, I rather appreciate the little lag time between when I get my hard copy and when the content goes up on the internet. By the time my New Yorker reaches me out here in the hinterlands every week, it’s already half-useless.)
Just so you don’t go to the snack bar at the wrong time.
*For a sterling example, see here.