A marriage in the digital era begins with an invitation to listen to a record. Rediscovering vinyl, sonic memories, and the joy of sitting down to do one single thing.
The Bard’s most famous sonnet very nearly wasn’t a Shakespearean sonnet. Rejected pairings of content and form, from rondelet to an acrostic hiding his name.
Mainstream country music is dominated by bros singing about girls in cutoffs and drinking tequila. But some female country artists are ready to exchange fire.
Between love and tacos, sometimes it’s better to choose tacos. Our series continues where we ask novelists to dine out, then write us something that 1) is a restaurant review; 2) is not a restaurant review.
Even a fake history of blogging—going back to the Old Internet, when HTML templates were so raw—offers insight into how we reached today’s web and survived comments.
The instinct to applaud boot-strapping and the comeback kid is as American as apple pie. So why does schadenfreude make us feel so good?
Eventually a man who’s always in motion, always fixing something, will stop. Decline of the patriarch reveals an entire family’s vulnerability.
The only thing worse than Valentine’s Day is a crappy Valentine’s Day. A handful of TMN writers and editors dish (anonymously) on their worst dates—crying men, rugby brawls, and a dislocated sacroiliac joint.
After seeing Inside Llewyn Davis I just had one question: Where was that cat supposed to pee?
Cracks are appearing in football’s helmet—injuries to athletes, injuries to the game. For one former high school and college player, the damage has gone too far.
Though mothers may gnash their teeth at forgotten flowers and missing brunches, the poets still sing of the worst Mother’s Day ever: that of Oedipus and his bride.
Experts answer what they know. The Non-Expert answers anything. This week, advice for a lovelorn atheist who wants to know if a Christian could love him back.