Lincoln’s speech at Gettysburg was short: only three minutes long, following a moving, two-hour performance by famed orator Edward Everett. It also was nearly meaningless.
Magazine publishing is a dark art. But the world of niche publishing—people who create magazines for necrophiliacs or donkey hobbyists, or for those of us who like to ride really small trains—features its own requirements.
Dirt is difficult to see on glass. That’s why so many people don’t bother to hire a professional for the job—they just can’t see what’s wrong.
Portraits of men in Philadelphia taken just moments after they catcall a woman on the street.
In early New England, anyone who stood near an open door or window faced mortal danger. A conversation with a woman who hunts for gravestones with epitaphs describing death by lightning strike.
Multi-layered photographs show people’s inner lives merging with their environments—suggesting that what we see of reality is less than what actually exists.
Think baseball today is rotten from drugs and punks? A century ago, things weren’t much better. A brief history of baseball’s dark traditions—cheating, substance abuse, obscenity, violence—and the colorful players who brought them to life.
A literary gumshoe visits St. Petersburg to track down the so-called “ninja of Russian verse,” Elena Shvarts, who died in 2010 leaving almost nothing behind.
A reporter spends a season trailing one of London’s most infamous soccer clubs while its soul is rebuilt from scratch. A cautionary tale—for New Yorkers, especially—of super fans, gonzo money, and the doctrine that is “organic football.”
This week, Detroit’s new emergency manager released his first report on the city’s dire affairs. But residents have long been accustomed to life in what’s essentially a failed state. A native author meets the motorcycle men working hard to save Detroit, one fiend at a time.
An unexpected pregnancy, tuna sandwiches consumed in darkness, and woman after woman of a certain age living by the ocean—eventually, all connections make sense when it comes to prescient grandparents.
When your name prompts questions in several continents, how you answer—and whether or not you stick an accent above the “a”—says a lot about who you are.