A black screen, a void, then the calming sounds of ocean waves. Keith Richards’s guitar punctures the roiling relaxation, as sea-green ocean waves brighten the screen. Merry Clayton woos over the opening riff of The Rolling Stones’ Vietnam-era anthem, “Gimme Shelter,” as a drone shot flits over a sandy beach and a pool deck with … Continue reading
I’m obsessed with the Epstein files. Completely obsessed. Any time I get a spare moment, my fingers unconsciously wander over to my permanent Jmail tab to take another gander. Some days, I unblinkingly click through the police-produced Zillow tour of Epstein’s 71st Street townhouse, homing in on deranged bathroom décor, like the chummy caricature of … Continue reading
On January 24, distracted as usual by the unavoidable pull of the endless scroll, I took a quick breather from writing a review of A New Love in Tokyo, Banmei Takahashi’s delightful and depraved sex worker buddy romp. I opened X and watched Minneapolis ICU nurse Alex Pretti wrestled to the ground and shot numerous … Continue reading
Olivia Nuzzi’s much-maligned memoir American Canto opens with a phone call and a cockroach rave. Stomping down Fifth Avenue in front of the Met, Nuzzi argues with croaky-voiced bear-crime-scene-stager and whale-beheader Robert F. Kennedy Jr…I mean, The Politician…about whether their long-shot presidential candidate x political journalist affair is wrong (it is). Answering his invocation of … Continue reading
There’s a danger in building a career on being a “provocative” artist. Eventually, you may find yourself hitting up the most notorious sex trafficker and pedo in recent history and, I’d argue, maybe the most influential figure of the 21st century to rant about the election. At least that’s what happened with Andres Serrano, whose … Continue reading
Heaven apparently isn’t a kingdom in the sky with gigantic pearly gates, but a warm, golden-hued sky with pluffy clouds and a perpetual, dramatic, hair-fluttering wafting breeze. And what do lucky VIPs do once they hit paradise? Apparently, take a whole lot of selfies with others who perished in similarly violent ways. At least that’s … Continue reading
An employee of the White House gift shop (yes, there is a gift shop in the White House. Classy!) approached me and another tour guest, both of us gawking at an artwork that looked egregiously out of place, as if someone clandestinely snuck a flea market find into the hallowed halls of the National Portrait … Continue reading
Chain restaurants at the mall used to mean something in this country. Stand-alone restaurant storefronts just a short jaunt away from the mall’s irresistible gravitational pull did too. Or at least I thought they did. When I was a teen in suburban Pittsburgh during the early aughts, Olive Garden, TGI Fridays, Outback Steakhouse, Texas Roadhouse, … Continue reading
Trump is the master of the image. I know—I’m not the only one to point it out. LA Review of Books’ Gideon Jacobs did it before, whose perfectly titled essay “Trump l’Oeil” grabbed me, up until he used the word “ontology” in an essay about Donald Trump. But at this point, isn’t it a cliché … Continue reading
A square chunk of gaudy gold sits at the center of a low table, overpowering much of the other décor visible in the room—an inescapable brick of tacky opulence. One side reads in all-caps like your furious Boomer relative’s Facebook rant: TRUMP. On top is an ornate seal just out of view, obscured by the … Continue reading