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When Miss South Carolina expressed her concerns about American teens’ lack of geographical knowledge, and the Iraq, I’d like to know exactly how many people were truly surprised. Yes,...
Experts answer what they know. The Non-Expert answers anything. This week we assist a mother with her daughter’s homework: imagining a world where emails required stamps.
Even though it wasn’t an election year, in 1985 Alex P. Keaton could have run for president—and won.
In August, fires large and small swept through homes around the world. And whether dousing flames, solving domestic disputes, or posing shirtless, firefighters were there.
While I can’t personally relate to a mescaline freakout at an off-Broadway show / in the morning,* there’s something familiar and friendly about Luke Temple’s Saturday People. Its...
With Labor Day gaining fast, summer is almost over. Rather than mourn its demise with a sack of hooch, we should toast our memories with a bottle of something special. The writers have some suggestions.
&Consider the journalistic artifice where writers presume to know the habits and activities of their readers: While you are stuck in a 22-mile backup on your way toand back...
Thomas Allen’s work brims with loose women, bad men, and secret, dangerous lives. Working with pulp novel covers, he infuses them with new life and narratives, pushing pulp’s roughish allusions into three dimensions.
There I was the other night, lying on the couch, flipping through channels, when I came across it: the blooper show. No, seriously. They still have these things? I felt...
Experts answer what they know. The Non-Expert answers anything. This week we instruct a starry-eyed reader in the ways of bagging young Hollywood tail.
When you really think about it, a vampire weekend sounds either incredibly lame (as in hanging out in the cemetery with a bunch of goths, drinking cheap red wine, and...
Whether it’s experimental injections, sleep deprivation studies, or freelance writing, sometimes the best way to look after your health is to risk it.
As relatives gather for a wedding, Pasha Malla faces tough questions about why his family moved away from Jammu and Kashmir and tries to figure out what, exactly, they left behind. Part five of his travel journal.
As if there are not enough reasons to read The New Yorker, last week it was reported that James Wood (he of the hysterical realism coinage) was joining its staff....
Charlie White sends subtle messages. His photographs twist our social mores, commenting on the associations we make with famous (and imagined) events, art, and characters—revealing the monsters that hide in our corners.
I don’t know that I ever want to write a book, but I certainly wouldn’t mind going on a book tour. The work’s already done, now you...
Experts answer what they know. The Non-Expert answers anything. This week we apply cold logic to a hot topic: How can pre-adolescent hockey players become sexually active?
It was no Orwellian nightmare; to have nightmares you need to sleep, and you can’t sleep when you lay awake terrified about nuclear war.
What do you get when you marry Rodriguez to Rodriguez, double it, parcel it out, deliver it from evil and send it back to church?
From Formulary for a New Urbanism by Ivan Chtcheglov (Internationale Situationniste, October 1953): And you, forgotten, your memories ravaged by all the consternations of two hemispheres, stranded in the Red Cellars...
Departing the (garden) lovers’ state for one that loves its cement and money more, our scribbler of the lillies Our writer realizes the crucial difference between caring about plants and caring for them.
I had it in mind to vituperate on some irksome aspect of American book culture but then I realized that time spent venting my spleen on well-trod terrain would be...
Martin Klimas breaks recognizable objects so they become something else, and stops us just at the moment of transformation.
Not until somebody gets a drumstick through the throat, will drum aficionados cease debating who’s the superior stickman: Neal Peart or Phil Collins. But one argument is still unexplored:...
Name: Chicken John Time of birth: 11:48 p.m. Occupation title(s), both real and desired-in-another-lifetime? Showman. Ditto. We’ve heard you’re running for mayor. What’s the main idea...
Those who can’t do, learn. In this installment of our series in which the clueless apprentice with the experts, we pick up a long-sought skill from Brooklyn tattoo artist Duke Riley—who also plays canvas.
Many hear verbal stumbles as a lack of eloquence—or worse, intelligence. However, there’s a new love and respect for our little hesitations.
MTV owes me my youth. Most of my ’90s memories are a hazy blur of Lenny Kravitz videos, Mountain Dew commercials, and news about Madonna that will all come back...
The composition of everyday things is up for review. Each week we find out new things about genes, about molecular structures—so why not the letters we read on signs, in magazines, on the flipside of our hovering skateboards?
Along bumpy roads and past intimidating border posts, our author heads north for his cousin’s wedding and discovers safety might be just a state of mind, in the fourth installment in his travel journal.
In his novel Elizabeth Costello, J.M. Coetzee has his protagonist give a speech when she accepts an award for her literary achievementCoetzee’s acceptance speech to the Swedish...
&tI work in an office building. My office is a cube in the center of the room, affording me little privacy and no view. Some of my coworkers are truly...
Experts answer what they know. The Non-Expert answers anything. This week we help a reader determine if her one true love is letting adverbs get in the way of romance.
In the ‘90s she toured the world with her rock band Zuzu’s Petals. Now she’s trading attitude with the other mothers at Chuck E. Cheese.
Pop music is at it’s best when it’s not actually pop music, but a teeming, cacophonous, and experimental diversion from pop book-ended by an otherwise unassuming, jaunty indie-pop...