Some magazines are lightweight, with no aim higher than trumpeting good taste. As spelled out in its cover tagline, Tikkun has a loftier goal, namely the translation of its Hebrew title: "to mend, repair, and transform the world." It's a tall order.

There are many things to like about Running Times, especially its strict adherence to the "runner's best resource" positioning. Every item in the December issue toes that tagline, whether an extensive survey of poor-weather shoes or a guide to 2007 training programs by former Olympian Pete Pfitzinger. In doing so, however, Running Times makes only the most token of efforts to entertain readers, and that's a mistake. The flat, didactic tone serves its purpose in the more technical stories, but it renders the mag's race reviews and runner profiles hopelessly dull.

This week's issue of the The New Yorker has ''Fresh Prince," a deliciously quirky piece that alone is worth the price of admission. Written by Nick Paumgarten, the article discusses Robert Greene and his bestselling book from 1998, The 48 Laws of Power. With its aphoristic bent and graphic advice on enemy-crushing, the book has quietly become the Bible of the hip-hop community.

The Nov. 20 issue of Fortune is a keeper, if for no other reason than the two sublime pieces of investigative reporting that occupy a hefty chunk of the issue. The stories on class-action hobgoblin Milberg Weiss ("The Law Firm of Hubris Hypocrisy & Greed") and scammer Matthew Cox ("The Bonnie and Clyde of Mortgage Fraud") read like great screenplays, while at the same time rendering complex financial and legal issues palatable to dunderheads like yours truly.

Golf Digest Index is the newest entrant in the ha-ha-I'm-richer-than-you and my-wife-has-larger-breasts category. Its formula may not be novel -- pricey golf, pricey cars, pricey booze -- but the publication goes about its business in a distinctly different manner. I'm not sure how to put it, other than to say that you don't hate the people featured in it. Sure, you secretly hope a plumbing apocalypse soils their Oriental rugs beyond repair, but Golf Digest Index does the nigh impossible in making them interesting subjects of discourse.

I grew up in Pennsylvania, and we often took in state sights as part of family vacations. Now, I realize that if my parents had it to do it over, they'd fly to the Caribbean, sling back mai tais and pretend to be childless. Still, their instincts were right. Pennsylvania, the Keystone State, is chockfull of history and wonder. From the Steel City to the Susquehanna, picture-perfect Carlisle to the farms of the Lancaster Amish, William Penn's woods are a treat. That's why I enjoy perusing Pennsylvania Magazine.

I decided to check out Eat because I found its cover sublimely, majestically stupid. It promises a "picture of every recipe!" (because if there's anything skillet-happy readers won't tolerate, it's inadequately illustrated recipes) and boasts a nifty little &trade after its "easy family food" tagline (can you imagine the mad rush to the government registry to claim that one?). Additionally, it guarantees "82+ recipes" -- not 82 or 83 or 87 or 109, but "82+."

Starlog is a fan magazine in the truest sense: every word in every story is written by and for fans. Perusing it, you get the impression that its editors and contributors had a hell of a time putting it together. Unfortunately, while this may make for a happy tribe of office nerdlings, it doesn't necessarily make for much of a magazine. Starlog ain't long for this galaxy, or any other, unless it decides to enter the 21st century from a publishing perspective.

Let me just say that I don't golf--but judging from the pickup truck and hound dog, neither does our cover guy. And the cut lines don't help: "Classic Guitars," "Thoroughbreds at Auction." Clearly, "connoisseur" rather than "golf" takes center stage here.

Heading into today's exercise, here's what I knew about Ladies' Home Journal: One, it is a women's magazine -- a "home journal" for "ladies," if you will. Two, it contains lots of recipes, many involving peaches. Three, it's been around forever and ever, amen. Four, it's the kind of publication that media nudniks scorn, because it has the audacity to give readers precisely what they want, in a breezy, easily digestible format.