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Right now, Murray contends, that mine is looking pretty dark. While the state's otter population is holding steady at nearly 2,700, projections show that number should already have reached at least 13,000. The next step, say scientists, is to pinpoint--then shut down--the sources of runoff that are pouring toxins into the otters' playgrounds...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: What's Killing the Sea Otters | 9/24/2006 | See Source »

SARAH SILVERMAN JESUS IS MAGIC Dark, svelteand sexy, she strides onstage and, with a Valley Girl's perky naivet, utters one social faux pas after another. "The best time to have a baby," she says, "is when you're a black teenager." Then she makes some apologetic qualifier that gets her pretty mouth into even bigger trouble. Of course, this Sarah Silverman is a stage persona, a one-shtick pony that could grate if not for her zazz and nervy aplomb. "I don't care if you think I'm racist," her alter egotist says defiantly. "I just want...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: 6 Standouts of Stand-up Comedy Come to DVD | 9/24/2006 | See Source »

...first I thought it was a rock, the specialty of street urchins--a harmless shot against an armored humvee. I gazed down and spotted an object on the wooden bench 2 ft. away. The dark oval was as shiny and smooth as a tortoiseshell, roughly 6 in. long and 4 in. wide. None of my fellow passengers seemed to notice. I confronted the intruder alone, a journalist caught in a military moment. Something told me there was no time to consult the soldiers...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: How I Lost My Hand But Found Myself | 9/24/2006 | See Source »

...from a crater. I could feel the flesh of my palm liquefying. Pain bolted up my arm like an electric current. In one fluid motion, I raised my right arm and started to throw the mass over the side of the vehicle, a short backhand toss. Then everything went dark...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: How I Lost My Hand But Found Myself | 9/24/2006 | See Source »

Matt Ward stood in the back corner of the Somerville Theatre last Sunday night, sipping a drink and smiling in the dark. Dressed, like those around him who would soon be his audience, in the requisite apparel of the nebulous “indie-folk” genre (flannel, baseball caps), he clapped politely as Oakley Hall, the opening act, crooned and clapped their way through an enjoyable, if overly loud, 40 minute...

Author: By Henry M. Cowles, CRIMSON STAFF WRITER | Title: M. Ward Rewards Fans | 9/24/2006 | See Source »

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