The New Yorker missed the satire boat and ended up with one of the most repulsive covers ever.
Now here's how satire works. It's supposed to piss off the wrong people for being called out on their stupidity and make everyone else laugh with it's ridiculousness .
Swift got it in his "A Modest Proposal". The idea of selling Irish babies as dinner meat to the wealthy was not a proposal that anyone would take seriously, but it did highlight the decadent ignorance of the wealthy.
The New Yorker just managed to reinforce negative stereotypes already in place.
Not funny. Not satire. Not working.
But I do have to give them the same credit that Violet Socks does. At least for those people industrious enough to read the article inside, the New Yorker goes about debunking the Obama is a radical myth.