Search View Archive


On Imus and the Airwaves

The Virginia Tech massacre had one unintended beneficiary: Don Imus, whose blistering media closeup abruptly ended, much like Congressman Gary Condit’s did on September 12, 2001.

Walkin’ to New Orleans

I was representing a 19-year-old homeboy who had beaten up an eight-year-old for his bicycle. He was late to court so I had to beg the judge not to issue an arrest warrant. He walked in like a total thug, but with his girlfriend following him holding his new baby.

RANT RHAPSODY: Memories of San Quentin

Odd as it may sound, I’ve lately found myself feeling rather nostalgic for San Quentin. That sensation is even more peculiar when I remind myself that etymologically, nostalgia means homesickness.

Notes on Fallujah

Images: In a film shot by an intrepid independent, during the siege of Fallujah, a woman rushes out on the street with a child clinging to her skirts. A shot rings out, and she rushes back into the house, which is already appearing to collapse.

Rudy Giuliani in Drag Smooching Donald Trump: Perspective on a Clip Gone Wild

How weird is Rudy Giuliani? Perhaps you have now seen a clip called “Rudy Giuliani in Drag Smooching Donald Trump” that, as of this writing, has garnered over a quarter- million hits on Youtube, been embedded as a video on countless other sites, and made TV’s “major leagues” by being broadcast by Jon Stewart, Keith Olberman, Chris Matthews and many others.

The Grassroots Video Pioneers

Images of street medics with home-made red crosses adorning their clothes, protest marching bands, cops in riot gear, tear gas in the streets; ideas and practices of decentralized organizations, anti-copyright, shared resources, networked communications, ecstatic experience, DIY media, pirate broadcasting, communal living, participatory culture, collective process.

In Conversation

Bolivian Noir: Juan de Recacoechea with Caitlin Esch

“Verify the documents, I thought. What the hell is that about? Trembling, I moved forward to the first row and settled into an empty armchair. That bit about the verifications was like a knife through my heart. If they try to verify them, I’m screwed…. I would have sold my soul to the Devil for that visa, but there was no time for the ceremony.”


The Brooklyn Rail

MAY 2007

All Issues