Poor, poor Andrew Sullivan.
The Daily Dish blogger built a megablog that Time picked up for a while, then migrated to The Atlantic, where he has a small army of clerks writing a lot of his posts, much as Dali had minions cranking out prints.
He was editor of The New Republic in his 20s. He's got a column in The Times of London. He's on all the talk shows. He's got book contracts. He gets something like ten million readers a month, and- just before he decamps to Provincetown for the summer with his husband (who paint heroic images of him)- he is whingeing about how some conservative dead-tree media outlets shun him.
We should all have such problems.
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