Lauren Bagby’s dispatches from Comic-Con, annual home of Whovians, Trekkies, and Ewoks.
Joe Berkowitz thinks Lost is a metaphor for this casual office discussion of Lost, which is a metaphor for this casual office discussion of Lost, which is…
Jonathan Gourlay loves every train, simulated or real, with the exception of the one in Atlas Shrugged.
Lauren Bagby is comfortable fulfilling all the stereotypes of a struggling screenwriter in Los Angeles, except the one about becoming a selfish asshole.
Whitney Carpenter challenges the last step toward adulthood: hanging framed photographs in her home.
Nick Martens reports from Chicago’s Union Park on drummers, the summer heat, and Porta-Pottys.
Darryl Campbell uncovers the hunger-inspired contemplations of The New York Times food critic Sam Sifton.
Breaking up sucks. For Lucy Melbourne, it sucks even more when aggressive text ads assault her email inbox.
By “the future,” Kevin Nguyen means a dozen elementary school students on a field trip to the offices of The Daily, the student newspaper of the University of Washington.
The Bureau Editors pick their favorite web (and some non-web) writing from the first half of 2011.
Rebecca Cardwell doesn’t have kids, but she’ll tell you how to raise yours.
Johnathon Williams learns how to fly a kite, or at least tries to.
Kevin Nguyen delves into the past, present, and future of karaoke, and speaks with Brian Raftery, author of Don’t Stop Believin’: How Karaoke Conquered the World and Changed My Life.
There’s poetry in everything, including the user comments of NYTimes.com’s most popular blogs. Darryl Campbell investigates the web’s unlikely poetry community.
Jordan Barber talks to Anna the Red, famous across the web for her videogame-inspired bento art.
The Bygone Bureau is an online magazine that publishes articles on culture and travel three times a week.
Nick Martens & Kevin Nguyen
Darryl Campbell
Hallie Bateman
Whitney Carpenter, Jonathan Gourlay, Jeff Merrion & Alice Stanley
Jordan Barber, Caitlin Boersma & Locke McKenzie
Sleepover, San Francisco