Noah Berlatsky

Let's not ignore the fact that the original James Bonds wasn't just white. He was a white supremacist.

Lower your standards, live in moderate amounts of filth, and go to bed early. The cat will thank you.

Irritation is the way of all flesh. The question is, if you're going to be annoyed for all of eternity, who do you want to be doing the annoying?

As a parent, you tend to assume that you have some say in forming your child's mental landscape. Then Santa comes along.

"Childbearing [is] barbaric and pregnancy should be abolished," wrote radical feminist theorist Shulamith Firestone in The Dialectic of Sex.

With the prospect of another Bush/Clinton presidential contest looming as ominously as Donald Trump's hairpiece, the word "dynasty" seems to be frothing off of many a pundit's keyboard. "Clinton, Bush struggle to shed dynasty labels," a Washington Post headline declared.

David Ress' Aphexswift is genius precisely because it's so unlikely.

Action movies don't usually bother much with romance. The trailer for The Transporter: Refueled certainly doesn't. The hero is cool — sexy women, plural, throw themselves at him, or at least stand near him and things blow up; there are fights and revenge and high production values. Romance is, at best, a secondary concern.

It's worth questioning some of our assumptions about adolescent inferiority.

The acclaimed solo album of former Danity Kane member Dawn Richard raises questions about the very nature of "cred." Is pop antitethical to artistry?