Noah Berlatsky

Billie Holiday, Ella Fitzgerald, Edith Piaf: they're all still practically household names.

In the U.S., anti-Semitism is universally condemned. This means that, effectively, anti-Semitism doesn't exist.

I am on my knees in 15-degree weather scrubbing poop from the sidewalk, and I have an epiphany of sorts—I do not want this dog.

The Lord of the Flies can feel like a vacation spot for conflict-management consultants in comparison to social media.

A Ghostbusters with a female cast is a thorough violation of the spirit of the original. And that's a good thing.

So, if there are so many ways to sing this song, and if it's meant different things at different points, why complain about Beyoncé's version?

To understand this debate, it's important to consider historical context.

If you want America to relearn how to hate white Jews, the quickest way to do that is to associate them with black people.

As a white woman, Swift can afford to celebrate carelessness. Beyoncé, though, knows that even her casualness has to be perfect.

Genre boundaries are conscious of race—and, in the case of rock, conscious of gender too.