Luke Epplin watches Buddy Guy, the “world’s greatest living guitarist,” combat his increasing irrelevancy with bombastic guitar solos.
Bored by only seven distinct days of the week, Mark Peters proposes 24 more days to fit in the month.
After years of resisting, Kyle Chayka gives in and purchases his first smartphone.
In the mid-’90s, Michael Stutz abandoned his computer for an entire year to write his first novel. Coming back wasn’t so easy.
Kim McMurray falls in love and, at the same time, sets out to read the biographies of every single U.S. president.
According to Eli Terry, the key to succeeding at everything involves a lot of ham.
Before pads, there were Kotex belts. Before adulthood, there were Jessica Schein’s embarrassing pre-adolescent experiences.
Nishant Batsha tries to remember exactly he did exactly one year ago and finds that digital records don’t add up to a complete memory.
Leah Caldwell confuses a human with a spambot, which begs the question: what does it mean to be human?
Jeremy Blachman notices his Pandora recommendations becoming increasingly sinister.
Jonathan San talks to Jay McInerney, who brings the bitter, depressed prose of his novels to horoscopes.
When John Davidson’s apartment gets robbed, he learns that the easiest way to get his stuff back is to have one drug dealer lie to another drug dealer while he lies to the police.
We’re glad you could join us today. Hudson Hongo has a few things to say.
Nick Martens looks closely at Watterson’s later Sunday Strips—the “golden age” of Calvin and Hobbes.
Josh Fischel profiles the country’s only high school ski jumping league.
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