We open the bunker on doomsayers preparing for the end of civilization—but not all them will survive the first hour of armageddon.
Big-budget films tell us earthquakes are bad, volcanic eruptions can be catastrophic, and meteorite strikes—barring the presence of Bruce Willis—may kill us all. Seeking expert advice on how scared we should be.
A century ago food vendors were often confidence men, cutting their products with inedible substances. A study of the history of food adulteration reveals hucksters at every turn.
Sharing a name with thousands of other men, even hundreds of thousands, can make for interesting email. Some of the messages that have landed in his inbox.
Everyone has computer problems—only a chosen few are driven insane by them. A defense of daily paranoia.
Faced with a stranger at the door seeking shelter for the night, what do you do?
When you’re four years old, a kiss is an accessory in a game of dress-up. When you’re the four-year-old’s mother, that kiss comes with a costume trunk of questions.
The air conditioner puckers as the door closes. The landing gear creaks as the plane departs the jetway. Above your head, the call button dings.
A television news report begets a routine doctor’s appointment begets a personal health scare.
Everyone knows a relative who dabbles in conspiracy theories. For one writer, seeing her brother be targeted by a global cabal—and develop schizophrenia—was all too real.
When you fold your arms or cross your legs, you unconsciously send a message that reveals your true thoughts. How to read my physical cues.
To be Jewish in America can be a gefilte fish served with wasabi and a dollop of paranoia. And things get even more complicated when you don’t look the part.