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Hope resembles Updike too in her yearning to reach for transcendent states by way of the things of this world--food, landscape, pigment and, of course, sex. What she loves first about McCoy is not his art but the lean arc of his body and the feral escarpments of his face, with its "lovely low-relief episodes of muscle." If this is a novel in which people think and talk, it's a frisky one all the same. "I'm not terribly up on the actual sex lives of these artists," Updike admits, "except that they were sexy and they...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Books: All the Wounded Gods | 11/18/2002 | See Source »

...burst into a bruised sky that was looking angrier by the moment. Each tiny eruption was greeted with a jubilant roar, like a kickboxing crowd hailing a series of withering knee strikes. The lights looked a bit like exploding flares, though there was no hiss or smoke, no sparkling arc back to earth. To a cynic like myself, they looked indisputably man-made. But to the believers?gathered in the tens of thousands along the riverbank?this was the breath of the Naga, the mythical serpent of Buddhist lore that many Thais believe haunts the broad reaches of the Mekong...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Behind the Secret of the Naga's Fire | 11/17/2002 | See Source »

...maintain a viable breeding population. So scientists are looking for ways to establish corridors linking contiguous reserves or parks. One proposal would link Canada's Yukon to Yellowstone National Park in Wyoming to allow grizzlies to roam a larger area. A WWF plan calls for developing the Terai Arc across northern India and Nepal. The arc would link 11 national parks and reserves into a total area of 27,000 sq. mi., benefiting tigers and other large animals...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Let Them Run Wild | 8/26/2002 | See Source »

SUKHBAATAR, MONGOLIA—It was raining that night. A few flashes of lighting were followed by a steady shower. The droplets scintillated as they passed by the high intensity arc lights. It was a late summer night in a railyard in Sukhbaatar—or Sukhe Batora as the Russians would have it—and it was a lonely, remote place. Nestled delicately somewhere between Siberia and the middle of nowhere, it is a desolate border town astride the Russian-Mongolian frontier and is the main point of crossing for all trains travelling on this particular branch...

Author: By Noam B. Katz, | Title: The World's Wilderness Park | 8/16/2002 | See Source »

...styles, and on and on. Not that there is anything inappropriate about all the heady chatter. Our famous American dead accrue layers of interpretation through the years and become palimpsests of cultural meaning. Like Elvis, born to poor parents in Depression-era Mississippi, our pop figures usually follow an arc from nowhere to somewhere, and so by talking about them we reassure ourselves about the promise and the possibilities of American life. Europe has the grandiose Age of Romanticism. We have the humbly born Marilyn, or Sinatra - or the King. Crystallize an epoch in an individual, and you offer individuals...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Long Live the King | 8/12/2002 | See Source »

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