The New York Times' review of Bill Clinton's My Life states:
The book, which weighs in at more than 950 pages, is sloppy, self-indulgent and often eye-crossingly dull — the sound of one man prattling away, not for the reader, but for himself and some distant recording angel of history.In other words: "ME, ME, ME, ME! I need to be in the spotlight and everyone is against me!"
When did the New York Times hire an honest reviewer? Or do they want to scuttle the book before it overshadowed John Forbes Kerry's campaign?