Ha! I'm always the last to know. My friend Frank Foer is taking over as editor of The New Republic from Peter Beinart, also a friend.

As the article in the Times points out, it would really be more in character for the magazine if Peter were dangling upside-down from a lamppost Mussolini-style or already buried (editorially, if not literally) in some unmarked grave, near an abandoned farm, somewhere out in the wilds of western Maryland.

But, apparently, the whole thing is amiable on every side. And no one is the worse for wear.

Maybe it's having four owners.

Congratulations to Frank.