Americans are too busy sharing personal information to care if the government is listening in. It might even flatter them.
New York couldn’t live without the sea that has, on occasion, caused it great harm. And now we need to hug our shores even closer.
A poker hostess who got her start at Tobey Maguire’s. An art-world heir. Russians. Prosecutors targeting gambling networks are after all of them.
The real talent of the city’s gifted-and-talented program is getting in.
Here, the play-by-play of her meteoric rise.
Some teenagers are already holding pop-up dinners and hounding Michelin-starred chefs on Twitter.
The former First Lady of Wall Street has a feminist awakening.
Our roundup of news from around the city.
Alison Jackson’s pretenders to the throne.
The Fruitvale Station star just wants to live, for once.
The creator of Weeds and Orange Is the New Black tells us everything she watched, read, listened to, and clicked on in a week.
Jerry Saltz navigates the good, the bad, and the overhyped in a suddenly empty Venice with his new digital camera.
Even George Lucas and Steven Spielberg think Hollywood has a blockbuster problem.
Michael B. Jordan breaks out in the terrific Fruitvale Station.
J.M. Ledgard’s stupendous, undersung Submergence.
Alan Gilbert’s unflashy radicalism is re-creating the Philharmonic.
25 things to see, hear, watch, and read.
He’s the highest-minded liberal in the race—but are his concerns too rarefied for most New Yorkers?
Readers sound off on reputation management, Nelson Castro, and more.
Our deliberately oversimplified guide to who falls where on our taste hierarchies. Roll over the images for related links.
Coleman’s NXT grill, Re-Fined opens in Cobble Hill, and more new stuff in stores.
“My boyfriend and I just bought an apartment in Stockholm. I want it to look like Mad Men—like fifties- and sixties-inspired.”
More than you ever wanted to know.