Nathan Heller

Nathan Heller

@nathanheller New York
Averaging a cup of coffee an hour at Slate Magazine.
Text follow nathanheller to 40404 in the United States
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Nathan Heller
Photos of New York in the '40s, by Stanley Kubrick:
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Philip Larkin
Are you prepared for what the night will bring?
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Nathan Heller
Two lovely tributes to Szymborska: @ () and Gopnik ().
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Nathan Heller
"Somebody behind you, watching your back." And if you are the president, that someone is Joe Biden, eating mints on national TV.
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Jacob Weisberg
Calvin Trillin asks: what's your ACI?
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Nathan Heller
Can't shake the sense Caitlin Flanagan's long, interesting, odd piece on Didion's appeal only to women mostly shows Flanagan doesn't get men
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Nathan Heller
Caffe Trieste, San Francisco: "That's true! You could start a v.c. firm that funds, like, movies."
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Nathan Heller
This week in Slate, I wrote about how Tintin--the character--helped give birth to the modern blockbuster.
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Nathan Heller
Season's greetings, from on top of my childhood thinking hill.
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Jack Shafer
The world's second greatest obituary.
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Nathan Heller
Anna Wintour on Christopher Hitchens and his ideal of "the ruined table":
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Nathan Heller
RIP Christopher Hitchens. Slate memories from his editor, @ (), and from @ ().
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Michael Agger
John Updike's childhood house for sale. This is the one in town. I would hold out for the farm.
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Nathan Heller
Just having a chance to read @'s masterly Sarkozy portrait. "The trouble comes when a politician gets numb to humiliation . . ."
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Thessaly La Force
The awesome Wyatt Mason profiles Ai WeiWei:
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Nathan Heller
Couple of aspiring TV writers, one table over. She: "I'm saying that by the time I'm 35, I won't have anything left to say."
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Nathan Heller
Slate's roundup of the best books of 2011:
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Nathan Heller
This week I wrote on a serious topic: Christmas carols. Where they come from, where they're going, why we sing them.
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Nathan Heller
This week in Puzzling Magazine Ads of Yore (two pages):
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Nathan Heller
Warm-cold Sundays like this always put me in mind of the Bay Area. Today the poem that took me back was Hass' "Spring":