The English genre known as dubstep has flourished just as its precursors—garage and drum and bass—did: by letting sounds unfold over the generous course of a d.j.’s evening. Pop songs don’t have that kind of spare time, but they’re always . . .
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Two days before the Eighty-second Academy Awards, the International Cinematographers Guild hosted, of all things, the Forty-seventh Annual Publicists Awards, a gala luncheon at the Hyatt Regency in Century City, to celebrate Hollywood’s press agents. When the publicists first organized, back in 1937, they had their . . .
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We must cast our bread
Upon the waters, as the
Ancient preacher said,
Trusting that it may
Amply be restored to us
After many a day.
That old metaphor,
Drawn from rice farming on the
River’s flooded shore,
Helps us to believe
That it’s no great . . .
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paragraph class=”noindent”>When you stand at the bar at Corsino waiting for a table to open up, you wonder why restaurants ever fail. Yes, it can be a tough business, but looking around at the chattering throng of youngish, casually affluent people here, success seems easy. It’s . . .
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I do not see how permitting open homosexuality in these communities enhances their prospects of success in battle. Indeed, I believe repealing “don’t ask, don’t tell” will weaken the warrior culture at a time when we have a fight on our hands.—General . . .
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Except maybe for courtside at Madison Square Garden, the best place these days to watch a New York institution fall to pieces is the 161st Street subway station, in the Bronx. From the No. 4 train’s southbound platform, you can observe the ongoing demolition of the old Yankee . . .
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paragraph class=”noindent”>The wonders of modern medicine and the comforts of middle-class consumerism provide fuel for the hectic furies of Nicholas Ray’s 1956 melodrama “Bigger Than Life” (Criterion). Based on an article by Berton Roueché that appeared in this magazine, it depicts a . . .
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It sounds implausible now, but there was a time when soft jazz was almost radical. This brief moment should be credited largely to the English. In the early eighties, groups like Everything but the Girl and the Style Council developed a hybrid kind of pop that drew from the more . . .
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O herring-fed redheads crouched at your peatfires:
Ancestors of this English I think in, my measure.
Christianized man-killers, makers of poems—
Now, they say, words for a strange kin of fish:
Finned but no fish, and well worth attention,
The mighty Whale, called Phasti-Tokalon.
As he . . .
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Peter Schjeldahl on the work of Otto Dix.
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