Katie Couric’s downward publicity spiral has gone from her typical poor-me-America’s-sexist pleading to tales of male beatings. A new profile in New York magazine by Joe Hagan recounts the Woody Allen-esque tale of Couric slapping a producer named Jerry Cipriano repeatedly on the arm in a fight over the word sputum. I kid you not. But not before she plays the diva and whines about all the people that fervently hate her and want her to go eat worms:

"I think that bugs people even more," she says, "that I’m not a woman on the verge of a nervous breakdown. It’s probably disappointing to some people. Because in the arc of the story, that’s what they want to see."

But her usual cheerfulness is interrupted by flashes of anger, disappointment, and even confusion about what is happening to her career at CBS News. "I’ve gone through a bit of a feeding frenzy and there’s blood in the water and I’ve got some vulnerabilities," she says. "This person who’s been successful isn’t so great, and finally she’s been put in her place—that kind of mentality. I think it’s fairly primal."

Later, names emerge, like Bob Schieffer's, in the drama of who is leaking hostile rumors about Couric, specifically to Philly TV writer Gail Shister. She whines that if they don't like her, they should just go work somewhere else:

Couric says she was taken aback by the lack of "character" of those CBS News co-workers who she believes have driven the negative stories about her. "It’s damaging, and it’s really tacky," she says heatedly. "And I would be so embarrassed to be one of these petty, behind-the-scenes operators who get some kind of charge out of trashing someone. I’m not perfect; I’m sure I’ve said unkind things about people in my career and life, but people getting their jollies from seeing it in print is so creepy and weird to me. And if you’re so unhappy, get another job!"

After that outburst of anger, Couric quickly composes herself. There’s always a bright side: The Shister story, she says, helped her win a few allies at CBS because others thought it was so unfair. "It was such an affront to all of us—a traitor-among-our-ranks feeling," says Couric. "There are just certain things that colleagues are not supposed to do."

When I bring up the name Bob Schieffer, Couric first affects naivete, then smiles a knowing smile and says nothing.

I confess to giggling at the thought of old Grandpa Bob dishing on Katie behind her back. Oh, how phony and plastic their smiling hand-off was. "Oh, Katie, will do a fine job replacing me. (That toothy fraud!)" At least Bob didn't get slapped. Here's that story:

Couric seems determined not to let anyone see her suffer, but according to several people familiar with the situation, she is privately frustrated ("Going through hell," says one producer) and moody about the ratings. The stress has caused her to blow up at her staff for small infractions on the set. During the tuberculosis story in June, Couric got angry with news editor Jerry Cipriano for using a word she detested—"sputum"—and the staff grew tense when she began slapping him "over and over and over again" on the arm, according to a source familiar with the scene. It had seemed like a joke at first, but it quickly became clear that she wasn’t kidding.

"I sort of slapped him around," Couric admits. "I got mad at him and said, ‘You can’t do this to me. You have to tell me when you’re going to use a word like that.’ I was aggravated, there’s no question about that." But she says she has a good relationship with Cipriano. "We did ban the word sputum from all future broadcasts. It became kind of a joke."

Webster's defines sputum as "expectorated matter made up of saliva and often discharges from the respiratory passages."

PS: For me, this passage was also priceless, Katie trying to sound all affected and hip:

She bids farewell to Whoopi Goldberg, who apparently has lost weight since Couric last saw her. "Call me, woman!" says Couric, making a phone gesture with her thumb and pinkie. "Now that you’re all skinny and shit!"

It’s the "girlfriend" Katie, the former Tri-Delt sorority sister at the University of Virginia, the one whose cell-phone ring was recently identified as the Pussycat Dolls’ "Don’t Cha (Wish Your Girlfriend Was Hot Like Me)," the one who bonded with American women over cooking and fashion and parenting segments on Today. The one who doesn’t fit the mold of an evening news anchor.

Update 10:39 | Matthew Sheffield. I couldn't help but notice in Hagan's piece that Dan Rather insists he was misquoted in his now-infamous comment where he accused Couric of applying a "dumb it down, tart it up" philosophy to the "Evening News." He wasn't. I know because it was NewsBusters that propelled that story to the national stage. Our story by Scott Whitlock included the full transcript so anyone could easily see he was referring to Couric, especially since, as Hagan reports, she was behind a lot of the changes Rather says he despises.

—Tim Graham is Director of Media Analysis at the Media Research Center