Volume 17 Issue 4

    • 4.3.10

      Man Fight

      Backstage, a grizzled older man is standing on a foldout table saying, "Listen up, here are the rules!" The young, sweatsuited fighters look up politely from their massages and hand-taping.

    • 4.3.10

      Vive Le Tarnac Nine!

      Historically ignored by the rest of France, Limousin has recently come to prominence due to events in a tiny, inaccessible mountain village of about 100 people called Tarnac.

    • 4.3.10

      32 Battalion

      Luckily for some 32 Battalion soldiers, governments and private groups across the globe are often in need of well-trained mercenaries and hire them out as private murderers for vast sums of money.

    • 4.3.10

      Dandy Critters

      Animals looking sharp.

    • 4.3.10

      The Psychedelic Recluse

      Now over 60 and recently retired, Vernon Treweeke, who's been referred to as Australia's reclusive godfather of psychedelic art, is ready to start the next phase of his career.

    • 4.2.10

      Dr. Kobus Jonker: God’s Detective

      In South Africa, they are balls deep in sangomas, or healers. For the most part these sangomas are legit herbalists. There are however a number of bad sangomas, known as baloyi, which are more like dark wizards.

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    • 4.2.10

      Photos by Sandy Kim

      Boobs, pills, and meat and stuff.

    • 4.2.10

      The Guatemalan Lady Killers

      While Mexico fights a war against the drug cartels that control much of its northern border, a lesser-known struggle is talking place in Guatemala, its neighbor to the south.

    • 4.2.10

      Fuck Church

      As part of a tradition lifted from the Roman Catholic model, members of the devout commune Little Pebble Dohsyuku-kai gather each morning and await secret messages from the Virgin Mary.

    • 4.2.10

      I Was Looking For A Street

      Charles Willeford transcended the crime genre to which he was relegated by most publishers and critics. But if Willeford only wrote pulp, then so did Dostoyevsky and Hemingway.

    • 4.2.10

      The Hold-up

      Set in east London, this story is for the most part true. Some of the names have been changed to protect the guilty.

    • 4.2.10

      Bless This Mess

      At 8 AM on a sunny Tuesday morning I am on my way to a crisis site on East End Avenue at 82nd Street. The call had come in an hour or so earlier. "I presume you're in good physical fitness," Ron Alford had warned me over the phone.

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