When Roger Ebert died in 2013, America was deprived of one of its finest film critics. But reviewing his body of work shows we also lost one of our best writers on addiction.
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.
Sometimes a love scene calls for [WHIMPERS], sometimes it needs [YELPS], but knowing which one to use makes all the difference. The secret life of a professional closed captioner.
Human beings captured behind closed doors, in their most animal state. Some images may be considered NSFW.
An American ballerina makes headlines when she says the Bolshoi Ballet wanted a bribe to let her perform. The company denies her accusation. But a small library in Virginia knew about it first.
Portraits of men in Philadelphia taken just moments after they catcall a woman on the street.
Pope Francis’s recent remark that he would not judge gay priests was a revolutionary moment for the church—a moment, in fact, worth twerking into verse.
It was probably a coincidence that the Supreme Court handed down its landmark decisions on two same-sex marriage cases just days before the anniversary of the Stonewall riots, but it...
For a hopeful magazine editor stuck in the wrong career, when Playgirl comes a-calling, it looks like the answer to her prayers—but not everything is as it seems. An excerpt from the new memoir How to Be a Playgirl.
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.
Yesterday morning, a plane landed at an airport. A man who was or was not a famous actor, and a writer who was or was not in love with him, stood on the verge of finally meeting. A Valentine’s Day story for the romantic and/or foolish at heart.
How do you see what mushers see? You mush. An adventure on the Beringia, a dog sled race stretching over Russia’s easternmost tundra. If in the process you see more than you ever expected—more of humanity, more of yourself—then thank the people of 685 miles of snow.