Humanizing The Vacuum

I don't want to come down too hard on John Updike. Not only haven't I read the Rabbit Angstrom novels, but the sheer weight of his a...

Having just ended Something, I'm glad there are certain things in the world I can count on, like a cheeky Pet Shop Boys interview on th...

Looking more swollen and deformed than he did in Sin City, Mickey Rourke reminds us that he's got a hardscrabble poetry in him -- only...

I don't normally post news of the weird type shit, but I couldn't resist this : The couple's white Maltese poodle, called Sumo, ...

I had a few comments published in The Village Voice 's Pazz and Jop poll. Here are the rejected ones. My favorite album this year was ...

I've never seen such a crowd in the student union building today as I did an hour before Barack Obama's inauguration. The euphoria i...

The Economist gets the award for the best obituary on the long national nightmare of the last eight years. George W. Bush's lasting ac...

My review of Jon Meacham's tenderfooted Andrew Jackson biography is up .

Mike's essay on Animal Collective for Village Voice Media is likely the most tantalizing thing I'm likely to read about a band I do...

I'm a sucker for a a man or woman strumming electric rhythm, espousing a certain kind of twinkle-eyed caddishness. Favorites: Ray Parker...

Pauline Kael's remark -- that Montalban lived a "lucrative horror story" -- is churlish next to a clip like this:

According to Robert Gibbs . We'll see.