Cheney Offers Sharp Defense of C.I.A. Interrogation Tactics Cheney Offers Sharp Defense of C.I.A. Interrogation Tactics
Again, Dick says that torture's good.
Sep 2, 2009 / Column / Calvin Trillin
Tragedy at Chappaquiddick Tragedy at Chappaquiddick
In a matter of hours, Mary Jo Kopechne lost her life and Ted Kennedy the presidency.
Sep 2, 2009 / Editorial / The Editors
Auden’s Love Poem for Humanity Auden’s Love Poem for Humanity
The poet's "September 1, 1939" saw the start of World War II and declared: "We must love one another or die."
Sep 1, 2009 / Books & the Arts / John Nichols
To Sleep, Perchance to ‘Sleep and Think’ To Sleep, Perchance to ‘Sleep and Think’
Conlangs often succeed only in stripping language of its surprise.
Sep 1, 2009 / Books & the Arts / Ange Mlinko
Pattern Recognition: The Writings of Hollis Frampton Pattern Recognition: The Writings of Hollis Frampton
A new volume of essays shows Hollis Frampton leaving behind photography for film.
Aug 26, 2009 / Books & the Arts / Akiva Gottlieb
Back Talk: Jarvis Cocker Back Talk: Jarvis Cocker
A conversation with the former frontman of Pulp about the sound of music in the digital era.
Aug 26, 2009 / Back Talk Conversations / Christine Smallwood
Beyond Exhaustion: Dan Graham’s Period Pieces Beyond Exhaustion: Dan Graham’s Period Pieces
Does the art of Dan Graham and his disciples promise deceptive simplicity or formulaic thinking?
Aug 26, 2009 / Books & the Arts / Barry Schwabsky
A Music of Austerity: The Poetry of Wallace Stevens A Music of Austerity: The Poetry of Wallace Stevens
In his best poems, Wallace Stevens makes deprivation feel seductively like plenitude.
Aug 26, 2009 / Books & the Arts / James Longenbach
“We must count…” “We must count…”
We must count in Babylon. Surely in Babylon we must count, count the days and the dead, the chambers of the palace, its stones, its steps, its flaring lamps, must count the clouds, the petals of the flowers, the hours, we must count the hours as they pass so slowly for the young, so swiftly for the withered masters of this place, ardent assassins of speech hidden away. Surely in Babylon we must count the gardens tended, the towers raised by slaves in this city soon to be dust, count the days and the dead. Must we count the dust?
Aug 26, 2009 / Books & the Arts / Michael Palmer