The New Yorker on how shows like The Killing -- the original version, BTW, not the sh*t-sandwich AMC served us -- have become so good and popular worldwide.

The flagship cesspool of Conde Nast, the New Yorker, has found a stalwart foe in Facebook.

For those of you who enjoyed mixing Girls with Mad Men this past spring and into the early summer (I begrudgingly did so by hate-watching Girls each week), you might be amused by this promotional web video for the New Yorker's new iPhone app featuring Jon Hamm and Lena Dunham, who also directed the spot.

The New Yorker is giving you a chance to caption a cartoon featured on Seinfeld yourself — if they like your entry, it'll be published in the magazine. Like Elaine, I've been staring at that damn pig for hours now and I'm shooting mental blanks.

Often times, attempts by old media outlets to "maximize" social media are mind-boggling exercises in high comedy, but the New Yorker has, for the most part, maintained its dignity by not resorting to overtly desperate and dumb gimmicks in an effort to "draw attention to" and "enhance" their presence on Twitter and Facebook.

This week's New Yorker contains a massive piece (Like there's such a thing as a non-massive New Yorker piece.

This week's New Yorker devotes 8000 words by Kelefa Sanneh to Odd Future, specifically to "Earl Sweatshirt," the 16 year-old member of the group who seemingly dropped from the face of the earth months ago.