Magazine Review: mental_floss

An informal and highly unscientific study has been done and the results are in: mental_floss magazine is just not thick enough.

It is touted as the place "where knowledge junkies get their fix," but any addict worth their weight in grey matter will tell you mental_floss will only stave the craving until "Hey, is that the last page already? Damn, it's 30 more days until the next issue!"

This packed to the back, cover-to-cover info-mag is more than just stuff you didn't know and even stuff you didn't know you knew. If ever there were an adult (grown, not groan) version of Sesame Street, with its stressless stream of images and quick, quirky deliveries, mental_floss is it. No one article is too long not to toss the magazine at those with a reading aversion and say, "Here, read this. It'll only take a minute."

There appears to be no end to the topics and teachings, both current and historical, covered and uncovered by "el presidente" William E. Pearson and a staff of thousands (or eight – not including various office animals).

The aforementioned study revealed a five-member household could consume an issue of mental_floss left in the lavatory in just under a week. The study also found that when one college dorm resident is the recipient of a subscription and an issue is left unattended, that issue can put as many as 50 campus miles on its odometer (if it had one) in as little as ten days.

mental_floss is no less privy to intellectual digestion outside the domestic setting. An issue received by a United States servicemember stationed with Marine Forces Europe in Boeblingen, Germany is rumored to have made its way to and through the United States European Command in nearby Vaihingen, where it then became part of a care package headed for Iraq. This issue is said to have eventually found a home in the waiting room of a stateside chiropractor by the name of Bonebrake – all before the next issue hit the stands. Seriously, that's what I was told. I mean, that's what the study discovered.

As a water closet companion, mental_floss is the only reasonable alternative to the sentimental tales of Chicken Soup for the Soul and the dry musings of The Wall Street Journal. As a nightstand staple, it is the only practical replacement for everything from Reader’s Digest and National Geographic to Popular Mechanics and The Smithsonian (although it is not recommended that one actually replace National Geographic or The Smithsonian – perhaps just placing mental_floss on the top of the pile as an amuse bouche).

In short, the only criticism offered by this reviewer is that anything advertised as a fix should at least come in a drip. Fortunately, mental_floss’ website can mend the yen left by the one-hour reader that is the magazine. Unfortunately, it might be difficult to convince anyone what you’re really up to when carrying your laptop into the lavatory.