Perhaps you remember way back when the music industry was suing college students; Madonna put a bunch of fake Madonna tracks on various file-sharing services cheekily inquiring "What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

Okayyyy, Graydon... leaving aside for one sec the "heartstrings gap" between worthless college students versus farmers ...can we address the fact that private investigators use pretty much the same exact tactics to defend the "intellectual property" of every stupid brand advertised in your magazine?

How exactly did we get to the point where we can accept that ruthlessly protecting the patents of laboratory-developed seeds is a grave offense to All America Stands For, but the horrible Oriental derelicts who dare to stamp offending Ls, Vs and Cs onto shoddy bags must be stopped? (Even as, as your sister publication once pointed out, piracy is considered integral to the success of most luxury brands.) How did we get to the point where the New York Times is willing to associate Chinese entrepreneurs knocking off silly French symbols with terrorism, and meanwhile, a company that actually does something — that arguably, despite its creepy malevolence, offers some benefit to society by spending money on the research and development necessary to make the food supply more efficient — can be cast as an irredeemable villain? How did the luxury goods industry — whose titans, like LVMH, have achieved revenue and profit margins that vastly exceed Monsanto's — snag themselves such a free pass? Did they buy it?

Ha ha ha —look it's a Versace ad next to that Monsanto piece! — and yes that was a rhetorical question.

Monsanto's Harvest of Fear [Vanity Fair]

They say: Want to really surprise your sweetheart? Cut out the bottom of a big box, wrap it with pretty paper and ribbon, and attach a card that says, "What's inside the box is a gift to last a lifetime." "Deliver" yourself to his or her office or front door.
We say: Didn't Timberlake already do this on SNL?

They say: Freeze the ring in a homemade Popsicle, and give your sweet two treats in one!
We say: Hope you know the Heimlich!

They say: Write your proposal in sunscreen on your tummy, so that your tan will "stencil in" the words. She will be so touched you've taken such an, um, interesting approach, she will accept immediately.
We say: Loser.

They say: Draw a hopscotch board on the sidewalk and invite your honey out for a game. Once he or she has succumbed to a little childhood play, replace the pebble you're using with the real rock!
We say: Don't fucking throw jewelry at us.

They say: Steal from that famous Say Anything scene — park yourself outside her house with a stereo blaring your favorite tune and propose on the front lawn
We say: Restraining order.

They say: Play Hangman and have the phrase be "Marry Me."
We say: Noose... marriage. We get it already.

100 Ways To Pop The Question [TheKnot.com]