THE AIR IN the cell was warm with evaporated piss and sweat, so eventually I took off the leather jacket I’d been wearing. Someone sitting on the bench—a young, coffee-colored guy with fat red lips tattooed on his neck—jabbed the guy beside him and pointed at me.Well, it’s about time, I thought. Read more Read it in print

So many artists have this contradicting dual fixation: On the one hand, they want to believe in the precious perfect purity of their art and resent the distorting lens of media hype. Their thoughts are too ambient and sensual for the parallel march of type. On the other, they have this terrible desire for recognition and must admit that they need exposure. Interviewing one of these people is a drag. Read more

Those of us born since the late 1970s have to wince when well-meaning journalists make pronouncements about who we are. Articles published in USA Today or The Wall Street Journal and directed primarily at middle managers, themselves fiercely curious about the character of their livestock, say we are entitled, impatient and self-aggrandizing. Read more Read it in print

Any dutifully bored music writer knows that his handiest weapon is the cross-band comparison—it’s like Joy Division with bongos! Dearer still is the combination: Deerhunter meets Fleet Foxes meets Grizzly Eyes meets Frog Bear. Whatever. It suggests a certain conformity, doesn’t it? In this respect, record label Luaka Bop is a constant frustration. Read more Read it in print

A lazy-eyed, dark-skinned server walks by in black latex tights that she appears to be injected into. I avert my eyes.Vulgar thoughts must be driven from the mind—not because they’re sinful but because, in this environment, they’re unseemly. Read more Read it in print

When I first arrived at Milk Gallery for the Accompanied Literary Society's Art War II, the crowd was sparse and bombshell founder Brooke Geahan, wearing a wee red miniskirt, was being photographed in front of each installation like it was a hot rod. "She's the head of an art society?" asked a New York magazine intern. "A literary society," I corrected. "I need to start joining more literary societies." Read more

It's one thing when an artist is milling around his own show, teetering a wine glass and trying to overhear what guests will say about his work. It's another for the audience to investigate his base Read more

At first I didn’t see it.There was Jonathan Toubin behind the turntables, chest hair sprawling, Dr. Strangelove hair hanging over his right brow, wearing that perpetual smile like, Man you’ve gotta hear this joke. His partner Ian Svenonius, radical rhetorician and former frontman of The Make-Up, who described his first band, Nation of Ulysses, as “a political party,” was off to the side chatting with Jared Leto. How did this fit with his agenda for musical anarchy? What was so radical about being Cake Shop’s guest DJ? Read more

After hearing more and more about the growing interest in Eastern medicine, we figured it had something to do with Taoism, pet crystals and random hippie crap. I’ll take my Lipitor deep-fried. Next stop, the surgeon’s table, for a supple new chimp heart! Nothing can stop me! Then the economy tanked, our insurer went bankrupt and suddenly this whole idea of “preventive medicine”—its own sort of free health care—didn’t seem so absurd. Thankfully, the recession comes at a time when holistic medicine, after years of building a loyal indie following, is being absorbed into the mainstream. Read more Read it in print

The question was innocent enough. Having noticed the signage for Revolution Books/Libros Revolución while shopping, the slight, brownskinned man stepped inside to ask about the shop’s selection, looking about him as though recently orphaned. Read more