There was no terror or confusion at the Associated Press. There was, instead, that feeling of history being manufactured; although the office was as crowded as he'd ever seen it, there was, instead, "the wonderful calm that comes into play when people are really doing their jobs." So photographer Richard Drew did his: He inserted the disc from his digital camera into his laptop and recognized, instantly, what only his camera had seen—something iconic in the extended annihilation of a falling man. He didn't look at any of the other pictures in the sequence; he didn't have to. "You learn in photo editing to look for the frame," he says. "You have to recognize it. That picture just jumped off the screen because of its verticality and symmetry. It just had that look." |
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Tom Junod, David Granger, and Andrew Chaikivsky reflect on a life-changing story. |
| At 8:48 on the morning of September 11, Michael Wright was a thirty-year-old account executive working high in the World Trade Center. Two hours later, he was something else. |
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Over the weekend, Heidi Przybyla of Politico blew a very loud whistle on the cozy relationship between Federalist Society puppetmaster Leonard Leo, crackpot political activist Ginni Thomas, and the carefully manufactured conservative majority on the Supreme Court of the United States in the person of Ginni's husband, Justice Clarence Thomas. The initial revelation lies right there in the very first anecdote in the story. It all comes back to Citizens United v. FEC, the egregious 2010 decision that legalized political influence-peddling and protected the free speech rights of bagmen and their customers. Turns out that Leo and Thomas knew enough about what was coming down from the bench to get a well-financed operation up and running in advance of the eventual decision. |
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The Pulitzer-winning writer—and Esquire contributor—takes us on a tour of his own wardrobe. |
| At the scene of Marilyn Monroe's death, the evidence isn't adding up. Overdose, suicide, or murder? Follow rogue cop Freddy Otash down the rabbit hole in James Ellroy's latest Hollywood noir. |
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A video game hasn't made me feel this way since I was 12 years old. I'll admit that for the past two years, I've been skeptical of Starfield. After watching the first teaser trailer, I worried Bethesda's new RPG would be a desaturated remake of No Man's Sky—a game I found soulless, cumbersome, and exhausting to play. I was wrong. "Live another life, in another world" has long been Todd Howard's mantra at Bethesda, from the fantasy realms of The Elder Scrolls to the post-apocalyptic settlements of Fallout. But Starfield takes that idea to an unprecedented level of intricacy and immersion. I'm pretty sure it's the largest fictional universe anyone has ever built, and the freedom of choice and customization make it an absolute rocket-blast to explore. |
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