14 Years a Fugitive: The Hunt for Ratko Mladić, the Butcher of Bosnia
A war criminal’s life on the run.
A war criminal’s life on the run.
Interviews with a receptionist, a factory worker, and others about life on the job.
How the “genial Bavarian” version of Adolf Hitler became a global media celebrity, “a plain-living gentleman with a soft spot for dogs and children.”
At age 22, the author went undercover at his old high school. An excerpt of the book that became the film.
What led to the 1970 explosion of a Greenwich Village townhouse, in which three members of the Weather Underground were killed, and what happened to the group after.
Excerpted from Days of Rage.
How the singer became the target of the Federal Bureau of Narcotics’ early, racially-motivated war on drugs. </br></br>
Excerpted from Chasing the Scream: The First and Last Days of the War on Drugs.
The perils of voting in the modern age.
On the comedian’s relationship with his son and how it changed the course of The Cosby Show.
A sociologist learns techniques for evading the authorities.
How a 26-year-old cocktail waitress ended up running a private weekly poker game for some of Hollywood’s highest rollers.
What adolescence does to adolescents is nowhere near as brutal as what it does to their parents.
An excerpt from All Joy and No Fun: The Paradox of Modern Parenthood.
A mother-son bus trip from Florida to Juarez.
Encounters with Albert DeSalvo, the self-confessed Boston Strangler.
The filmmaker on his relationship with former Manson Family member, currently serving a life sentence for murder. An excerpt from Role Models.
The many reasons Lost shouldn’t have happened.
“I am talking here about a time when I began to doubt the premises of all the stories I had ever told myself, a common condition but one I found troubling.”
On the rise of DIY genetic engineering.
An advertising copywriter adjusts to daily life in Paris, and works in a dysfunctional office.
Office culture in Paris held that it was each person's responsibility, upon arrival, to visit other people's desks and wish them good morning, and often kiss each person once on each cheek, depending on the parties' personal relationship, genders, and respective positions in the corporate hierarchy. Then you moved on to the next desk. Not everyone did it, but those who did not were noticed and remarked upon.
There was torture, starvation, betrayals and executions, but to Shin In Geun, Camp 14—a prison for the political enemies of North Korea—was home. Then one day came the chance to flee.
"Opium does not deprive you of your senses. It does not make a madman of you. But drink does. See? Who ever heard of a man committing murder when full of hop. Get him full of whiskey and he might kill his father."
A journey into New York’s turn-of-the-century opium dens to find out who gets hooked and why.
Gentrification and its discontents in Paris, throughout the centuries.
The story of Attila Ambrus, who was released from jail this morning in Hungary. Nicknamed the Whiskey Robber because witnesses always spotted him having a double across the street prior to his heists, Ambrus only stole from state-owned banks and post offices, becoming a Hungarian folk hero during his seven years on the lam. While on his spree he was also the goaltender for Budapest’s best-known hockey team and was arguably the worst pro goalie ever to play the sport, once giving up 23 goals in a single game.
An essay drawn from the introduction of Davidson’s iconic book Subway, first published in 1986:
To prepare myself for the subway, I started a crash diet, a military fitness exercise program, and early every morning I jogged in the park. I knew I would need to train like an athlete to be physically able to carry my heavy camera equipment around in the subway for hours every day. Also, I thought that if anything was going to happen to me down there I wanted to be in good shape, or at least to believe that I was. Each morning I carefully packed my cameras, lenses, strobe light, filters, and accessories in a small, canvas camera bag. In my green safari jacket with its large pockets, I placed my police and subway passes, a few rolls of film, a subway map, a notebook, and a small, white, gold-trimmed wedding album containing pictures of people I’d already photographed in the subway. In my pants pocket I carried quarters for the people in the subway asking for money, change for the phone, and several tokens. I also carried a key case with additional identification and a few dollars tucked inside, a whistle, and a small Swiss Army knife that gave me a little added confidence. I had a clean handkerchief and a few Band-Aids in case I found myself bleeding.
An excerpt from a new oral history of MTV.
When your house is the set of One Tree Hill:
On one shoot, I remember, I'd been confused about where they needed to set up (confession: hungover), and as a result neglected to clean the bedroom. Later, a crew guy—the same one who'd told me about Blue Velvet—said, "I'm not used to picking up other people's underwear." I felt like saying, Then don't go into their bedrooms at nine o'clock in the morning! Except… he was paying to be in my bedroom.