The McSweeney's Siren Call

I find it difficult to resist an issue of McSweeney's, especially the ones packaged in an out-of-the-ordinary way. The issue I just picked up, for example, emerged from its shrinkwrap looking exactly like a packet of random mail, complete with a rubberband. Witness:



I haven't read much of it yet; for now, I'm just enjoying the anticipation of opening up the envelopes. There's a "Tyrolian Harvest" sausage catalog, which is pretty much killing me ("...[it] is a special time at Tyrolian Harvest, full of strong feelings, fine meats, and candles.").

Another recent favorite is encased in a lovely, tricky linen box. For reasons I cannot decipher, it includes a high-quality black comb in its own nifty little compartment. Another compartment is home to a deck of thirteen oversized playing cards, which upon closer inspection are a short story by Robert Coover. The Joker and Card #13 must be read first and last, respectively, but other than that you can read them in any order. Compartments 3 and 4 contain a very long Ann Beattie piece and, finally, a collection of fiction in standard literary journal form.

Such good, clean fun...