Though Slate is known mainly as a political mag, and almost equally now for culture, I consistently find some of my widest smiles generated by their informational pieces: specifically the Explainer feature, occasionally Medical Examiner, and doubtless a few other incarnations where I've been oblivious to the labels.

Not because they are better than the culture/politics pieces, which are usually quite good and sometimes quite extraordinary. (*One little disclaimer below, but first a quick note on my favorite political piece of the year--in any magazine:

The Pope Didn't End Communism--which not only convinced me of its thesis against all odds, but provided an alternative so powerful it actually shifted my worldview. The best piece written during the entire popewatch, because it went so far beyond anything related to mere popes. And delivered it through a story so gripping and so personal I expect to be retelling it into my 80s.

Yes, Slate can do that stuff exceptionally well. But so does the Times Magazine, so does Salon, and in a different vein so do Harpers and The Atlantic. But none of those add in the unexpected little pleasures of the Explainer and its variations. Slate seems to have that field all to itself. And I never would have expected it, but I perk up every time I see the little entries for them. Truly puts a lot of smiles on my face.

Odd how nobody has thought to steal it yet.

All to itself within the confines of my little world, anyway. I'm sure that if I subscribed to Discover and JAMA, this stuff would all seem redundant and exceptionally shallow. But I don't, and why the hell would I want to? I did enjoy Discover for two or three months back in my 20s, but I quickly discovered I didn't have nearly the time nor energy nor justification in my life for that many plump servings of science.

Slate's Explainer stuff provides just the right dosage, often with just-in-time delivery: like an assortment of interesting aspects of how to select a pope last month--personal favorite: Is the Conclave held in Latin?--or last year, How Do You Pronounce "Abu Ghraib"? (Though the last one just drove me nuts, because no full-time journalist on the planet seemed to have stumbled upon it, or bothered to investigate independently.)

During Big News! interludes they shuck the timeliness, focus on enticing peculiarities.This week included: Does the FBI Have Your Fingerprints?, Who Counts the World's Icebergs?, How Much For That Monkey?

Hennyway. My point? Great piece posted late-late last night called, Someday, There Will Be a Fat Pill. (What the hell are they doing posting stories at 1:32 a.m. PT, by the way? And since they're not really based out of Redmond anymore, it most likely really went up at 4:32 a.m. ET. Yikes.)

So the fat-pill piece. Really interesting read. Incredibly broad, complex subject, whittled down expertly, delivered clearly yet concisely. And a damn good page-scroller, assuming you're into that sort of thing.

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* But my conscience tugs. (Once a Catholic . . .) It seems a bit disingenuous to heap such praise onto Slate's wonderful culture work--which is actually rivaling Salon these days, sometimes even surpassing it--without finally unloading about the lone perplexing exception. What's with the idiotic and sophomoric TV critic they seem to have plucked out of some high school newspaper? And I don't mean sophomoric in a good way. Don't think South Park; picture Summer from The OC reviewing The Valley. That would be season-one Summer, before Mr. Schwartz wizened her up several notches, to make her a plausible, pleasurable, legitimate foil for Seth.

But they do make up for her with the always trenchant and perceptive David Edelstein on fillums.

Speaking of Seths, how can I get out of here without praising my other perpetual fave, the always delightful (TV) ad report card, where Seth Stevenson rips open the latest abominations and unexpected surprise in the most pervasive art form of our time. (Sorry, but they are. Shitty, but still pervasive.)

For me, Seth provokes the same underlying response as The Daily Show: ahhhhhhhh.

Just when I'm sure my soul is about to explode from the latest outrage, Jon or Seth or Stephen Colbert step up to the mic with a little smirk and reassure me I'm still not the one going crazy. No, nobody is actually swallowing this crap. Well, a few people maybe, but the elated audience response persuades me there are a hell of a lot more gaggers out there than just Jon, Stephen, Seth and me.

Thanks.