Cover Wars: Whose Artfag Kung-Fu Is Stronger?


This week it’s kind of a no-brainer and besides after last week’s Moby Dick-sized Cover Warz tell-all we’re gonna keep this one short but sweet — for the winner that is. The loser, of course, will spend a week munching the cold and bitter turkey sandwich of shame, doubt and self-recrimination. But please, don’t take it too hard. Remember, this is only a game. And so, onto the commentary: CP laid this bizarre egg of a cover image that looks, best we can tell, like a bird-on-man gang rape to illustrate their WHY PHILLY ACTUALLY SUX self-haterade. Remember City Paper, when all you have is a hammer, everything looks like a nail. Frankly, yer bummin’ us out. As ICE WEASEL sez in the comments section:

Nice self-referential wank. Seriously, does anyone other than you and your close circle of friends get all this? I realize it’s cool to riff about things you hate. Hey, I’m as big a fan of getting in touch with your negative side as much as anyone. Some might say it’s my life calling but this mastabatory collection of trivialities makes you seem, well, trivial. Dare I say shallow? I dare. If this is the best you can do, next time, there’s a thing called an editor, look into it. I hear they help. They’ve done wonders for me. -everyone writing at someplace better than the citypaper

Owie. As for PW, well, we’ve always had a soft spot for cartoonish nostalgia, which is a good way of describing Cassidy Hartmann‘s call for a return to the days when there were lush movie palaces on every corner, there was no war, or corruption or ORDER IN ENGLISH, AMIGO signs outside cheesesteak shacks and instead of shooting each other, we all went to the lobby — all of us, together — and got ourselves a treat.

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