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...Monday night, despite the way they “won one for the city” and the way their triumph temporarily displaced the anthrax scare on the front pages of New York City tabloids. It’s still okay, despite the way the Yankees have worn armbands to honor the city’s rescue workers...

Author: By Martin S. Bell, CRIMSON STAFF WRITER | Title: Saved by the Bell: Yanks For Nothing | 10/17/2001 | See Source »

...should do to their mothers. Some 500 fans freeze -- for a beat. Then the DJ spins a record, a guitarist slashes a chord and soon lips, lobes and eyebrows, pierced by stainless steel, glint again from the mosh pit. Wallet chains jangle, tattooed fists pump the air and well-worn skate shoes tamp the Hong Kong Exhibition Center floor. It's Friday night and LMF's 11 band members overflow the stage: three electric guitars, one DJ hovering over two turntables, two standing bongos, one full drum set and four cordless microphones gripped by four dragon-eyed meanies. This...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Hip-Hop Goes Canto | 10/15/2001 | See Source »

...guitarist Prodip's many action figures, which are still in their packages, hang from the walls: Jason from Friday the 13th, Freddy Krueger from A Nightmare on Elm Street. In a section dedicated to Kiss paraphernalia the tag on one Gene Simmons doll reads: "Costume replicas of those worn during the Destroyer...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Hip-Hop Goes Canto | 10/15/2001 | See Source »

...he’s wickedly, impossibly back, just when you thought it was safe to consign him to the limbo of multi-album package re-releases. On “Summer Days,” he sings, “The girls all say you’re a worn out star.” This album is unlikely to return Dylan to iconic status, though it should...

Author: By Andrew R. Iliff, CRIMSON STAFF WRITER | Title: Music for the Night of and the Morning After | 10/12/2001 | See Source »

...jetway into the belly of a preposterous flying machine, sit patiently in my seat for enormous jet engines to whir to life with deafening power and then peacefully snooze as Bernoulli cheerily combated the force of gravity for hours on end. My mind found itself wandering down well-worn, if paranoiac paths, imagining images of small pebbles and pigeons being sucked into the intake of the engine directly outside my window and my horror at seeing the entire wing of our plane shudder and detach, tumbling end-over-end, destroying the beautiful and necessary symmetry of the airfoil...

Author: By B.j. Greenleaf, CRIMSON STAFF WRITER | Title: Imagination Overdrive | 10/10/2001 | See Source »

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