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03/19/2015|
BuzzFeed

On the evening of April 3, 2013, a battered blue pickup truck slowly crossed a bridge from International Falls, Minnesota, to the border station at Fort Frances, Ontario. The family inside —

04/01/2015|
Men's Journal

One morning in June 2012, Charles Baird, a 40-year-old former contracts writer at British Petroleum in Anchorage, chartered a boat for the two-hour ride to the island of Latouche in the Gulf

03/13/2015|
Rolling Stone

At 11 a.m. on January 21st, Christopher Poole posted a note online saying he was retiring as the administrator of 4chan, the notorious website he had founded as a high school student

02/18/2015|
Rolling Stone

Early one morning in Dorchester, Massachusetts, John Willis Junior gently lifted his girlfriend’s daughter, Mai Linn, from her sleep. Willis, a burly 39-year-old with close cropped gray hair and bright blue eyes,

11/07/2002|
Rolling Stone

“Are you ready for your sit down?” asks the guy with the handlebar eyebrow piercing as he ushers me into an abandoned loft in New York. Inside a room covered with posters

05/01/2003|
Wired

“How are the fingers?” coder Jim Dosé asks artist Kenneth Scott, as they stand in the kitchen of id Software’s Mesquite, Texas, headquarters. “Shattered,” Scott replies wearily, waving a splint – the

09/04/2003|
Rolling Stone

“HEY, GRANDMA, YOU GOT A TOWEL? I NEED TO BREAK GLASS.” IT’S a humid afternoon outside a modest home in Gibsonton, Florida, carny capital of the nation, and the world’s youngest torture

11/01/2003|
Wired

The moment he boots up case file 371, the detective gets that twisted feeling in his gut. Ed Lake – blue button-down shirt, gray hair, hangdog jowls – studies the evidence alone

11/13/2003|
Rolling Stone

“Camilo! Hey man, come on,” slurs a drunken surgeon, “I want to show you some hot chick.” It’s happy hour at a hip outdoor bar in Detroit, and Camilo Pardo, the auto

01/13/2004|
Rolling Stone

The most dangerous man in music is ready to rock. It’s Saturday night in San Francisco as Justin Frankel, gangly and bed-headed, ambles through the warehouse garage he aptly calls his “playground.”