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Features
The 2005 Portland Adult Soapbox Derby Burns Rubber!
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City
Mayor Declares Downtown Gang Violence as Really Not Okay
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- by Katie Shimer and Phil Busse
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City
Does Wal-Mart Have Any Friends?
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Features
Or, Pretending to Be Straight Isn’t As Easy as It Looks!
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I Love Television
The Tongue of Rock
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I, Anonymous
Protect and Swerve
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Art
Part of this summer's Taking Place series, BENT brings together three of Portland's most inspired emerging artists, each of whom has transformed
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Art
After a six-month stint trying to make it in L.A. as an actor/director—an experience he summed up to me as "horseshit"
- by Justin Wescoat Sanders
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Unlike Bat Boy and other tabloid characters whose very names merge the disparate worlds of human and animal, the story behind Grizzly Man is very, very real. For 13 straight summers
- by Justin Wescoat Sanders
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The PG-13 rating might've been the worst thing to ever happen to movies. Well, maybe not to all movies, but certainly to comedies and action films
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I'm a sucker for '70s-era dramas—if you ask me, the only thing that could make Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? any better is if it were filmed in
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Hey—you know what's funny? Airports! Why, they've been providing material to comedians for decades! And hey—you know what's terrifying? Airports!
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I am such an admirer of Paula Vogel's plays I would probably go see one even if the cast of Reba were headlining. She's innovative, intelligent, and at times hilarious. Her Shakespeare-skewing
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Aimee Bender's stories fall distinctly into one of two styles, each of which is on display in her new collection, Willful Creatures. She is best known for
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The still-kicking Jack Vance is an incredibly vivid storyteller who will be largely forgotten a century from now because his chosen modes are fantasy
- by Justin Wescoat Sanders
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Last Supper
The Gladstone Street Pub Makes Friends
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Order Up
SIN Nights Do You Right
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The Elusive Shroud of Cass McCombs
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Funny how things change. Only a year ago, the idea of Dinosaur Jr.'s J Mascis and Lou Barlow burying their legendarily blood-splattered hatchet
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IT'S FITTING that LA's 400 Blows is named after a film. (Truffaut's 1959 societal oppression joint, 'case you were wondering.) Singer Skot Alexander
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Lovers bum me out more than nearly any other band in my CD collection—and considering my loyalties, that's quite an incredible feat.
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