Anyone who has questioned the judgement of New Yorker film critic David Denby should be relieved by the details of his forthcoming memoir, American Sucker. Aside from the already hackneyed tale of Internet greed gone bankrupt, Denby offers readers that special something more - the details of his six-month addiction to Internet porn.

But the term “Internet porn' is so vague - is it preggers, barely legal, those ubiquitous chicks with dicks? - the mind reels. For now, we're left to detect Denby's tastes among clues scoured from whatever issues of The New Yorker I have lying around.

American men enjoy violent entertainments…
The New Yorker, 10/20/03, “The Matrix Revolutions'

It's also the angriest and sexiest work she's done - she seduces Chaplin in record time and then kicks him out of bed well before dawn.
The New Yorker, 5/5/02, “Murder by Numbers'

Let me say quickly that the subject of pedophilia, creepy as it is, doesn't necessarily fall outside the realm of art.
New York, 10/19/98, “Happiness'

I enjoy kiddie porn as much as the next red-blooded American man…
The New Yorker, 4/22/03 “The Lizzie McGuire Movie'

Maybe we'll never know. More likely, we'll just have to wait for the book Publisher's Weekly says “offers some of the most candid critiques of the Manhattan bourgeoisie ever found outside of a Woody Allen film.' Spicy.