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Just make him stop speakin Spanish. Thats all Im sayin. We cant go on like this son. Wit this guy speakin Spanish everyday in his press conferences man. Givin directions about Swine Flu in Spanish.
The most predictable thing about national elections in India seems to be their relative unpredictability. At least opinion and exit polls get it vaguely wrong almost every time, and this time they were sometimes glaringly off the mark.
Smell that? Its the smell of Deep Time. Not in the scientific sense of the fathomless vastness of geological time, but in the mythic, plumed-serpent, under-the-jaguar-sun sense. The Mexican sense.
For 20 years now, the Human Rights Watch International Film Festival (June 11th-25th at the Walter Reade Theater) has programmed documentary, narrative and animation from all over the worldincluding the U.S.that engage issues and present stories that are often only blips in the American mainstream news.
Five years ago, I tried to kill myself. At least I think I did. I was very drunk; I had taken a lot of pills.
The smell of wet garbage and puke permeates the 3:30 a.m. West Village air. Crossing the street to avoid a tipsy homeless man, I pass by some students jamming on a discarded piano, trying to conjure up the artistic frivolity and earnestness that has long since disappeared from this pocket of Manhattan.
Regardless of their stance on abortion, Westerners often have no problem dismissing as backward and misogynistic the practice of routinely aborting female fetuses.
Mark Kurlanskys new book, The Food of a Younger Land might have a better back story than any book that has come out in the last several years.
Susan Boyle was introduced to the world on Saturday, April 11. You may have already forgotten her, but most likely shes still kicking around somewhere in your head.
Lawrence Osborne is not your mothers travel writer. Ironically, he may be your grandmothers. This is not to suggest that his new book, Bangkok Days: A Sojourn in the Capital of Pleasure, is stodgy or uptight.
It Might Do Well With Strawberries, a new book by David Matlin, sits at the blurry edges between diary, polemic, poetry, and essay collection. For the most part, Matlin, a West Coast poet who has previously written about the American prison system, constructs the book as a set of excerpts from his journals from early 2004 through the end of 2005.