The Electric Typewriter
Great articles and essays by the world's best journalists and writers.by Devin Friedman
There is a place where all the breasts are large. Large, young, tanned, and naked. A place where everyone fucks and fucks and fucks and never dies. Where the men are rich and carefree and the women are beautiful and pliant and young.
by John Jeremiah Sullivan
Before the weirdness claimed his legacy, Michael Jackson understood his talent — and what he was willing to do for it — better than we ever have.
by Joan Didion
In the summer of 1943 I was eight, and my father and mother and small brother and I were at Peterson Field in Colorado Springs. A hot wind blew through that summer, blew until it seemed that before August broke, all the dust in Kansas would be in Colorado, would have drifted over the tar-paper barracks and the temporary strip and stopped only when it hit Pikes Peak…
by Andrew Tobias
How many other contemporary issues are there, after all, that have real, solid, definitive answers? I mean, if investigative journalism can’t answer this one, what can we be sure of?
by Gilbert Rogin
The bearded man laughing at his daughter is Bill Russell, the most remarkable basketball player of our time. Sport, however, is one of his lesser interests. Here are his trenchant, often angry observations on today’s Negro-white crisis and his role in it.
by Michael Paterniti
Olympic hero Rulon Gardner has fallen off trucks, tumbled off tractors, and gotten stuck in a baler. He has been impaled on an arrow, broken his neck, and gashed his knee clean to the bone. He has survived several catastrophic high-speed accidents, endured a frostbitten night in subzero temperatures, and most recently, swam away (barely) from a plane crash in Lake Powell.
by David Foster Wallace
The first time I lay actual eyes on the real David Lynch on the set of his movie, he’s peeing on a tree. Mr. David Lynch, a prodigious coffee drinker, apparently pees hard and often.
