If you read this blog with any regularity, you know it's been a constant struggle to criticize 02138, a magazine we know we should hate but somehow, inexplicably (well, sometimes explicably), can't. What we can say, thanks to this spectacular item from Boston's Weekly Dig, is that 1) 02138 is not a happy place to be right now, and 2) it will be moving its unhappy ass to the unhappiness capital of the world: Manhattan.

The real juice, though, is on the editorial end. Dig invokes the "world of carnage" that is the magazine's masthead, which has already lost two executive editors and an editorial director, with a managing editor and two editors-at-large soon to peace. The strategy, a source tells them, "is to make it so ridiculously unhospitable that people quit -- they're never fired."

Dig's coup of coups is a leaked editorial memo outlining ways to bring in more advertising without compromising editorial autonomy. Among those uncompromising ideas:

"Make as many photo shoots as possible fashion shoots. Let subjects know that readers will be very interested in their fashion, jewelry, accessory choices or, preferably, dress them. Whether or not we dress them, clothes should be credited. Next list [of influential Harvardians?-Ed.] should be shot this way."

"Profiles through the lens of certain products: The last five electronics gadgets Jim Fallows bought to stay in touch from China, whats in Meg Whitmans briefcase as far as electronic devices, what are the last 10 wines Jen Rubell served at dinner parties; what is on Marisa Noel Browns holiday gift list, Darren Aronofskys ten rules for flying on his private jet."

And then this apocalyptic vision:

"Cover a ridiculous or interesting wedding, first birthday party, retirement party or funeral in every issue. Offer alums incentives to alert us to such events (02138 onesies for new legacy babies)"

Is it our birthday? Feels like it. Thanks, Dig.