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The New Yorker on Christie

Some quick thoughts on the New Yorker’s big Chris Christie story by Ryan Lizza:

It’s a great Christie profile. I’ve been interested in Christie since I wrote about him for Philly mag in 2010, and I’ve been waiting for someone to go back over his early career, 1993 to 1997, when he first began building a reputation as a corruption fighter and trampling opponents. He won his first campaign, for instance, by smearing a 62-year-old grandmother and former schoolteacher named Cecelia Laureys, along with two of her ticketmates. I always thought this was a telling episode, yet it seemed to disappear from his biography. Here’s Lizza’s paragraph that resurrects it:

Christie lowered his expectations and, for his second campaign, ran for freeholder. This time, he was a reform candidate, promising to restore honest government, and he produced a TV ad charging that three of his opponents in the nine-person Republican primary were being “investigated by the Morris County prosecutor,” a serious accusation that happened to be false. Christie won the primary and then the general election, in part by assuring a more socially moderate electorate, “I am pro-choice.” But his victory was marred by the divisiveness of the campaign. The three victims of Christie’s false ad, including a freeholder named Cecilia Laureys, successfully sued him for defamation, and, after he lost an appeal, as part of the settlement he was forced to apologize to them in local newspapers. Laureys died last July, but her son, Christopher, who was her communications director, told me, “This was beyond the pale of what anyone had ever done in politics in Morris County. He was a lawyer who said they were being criminally investigated. He looked into the camera and lied.”

It’s not really a Christie profile. The true subject of the story is how power functions in New Jersey, a state whose structure of government lends itself to balkanization and rule by political bosses. Lizza meets a boss from the north, Joseph DiVincenzo, and a boss from the south, George Norcross, and gets these guys talking with a remarkable frankness about their political operations. I have no idea how Lizza pulled this off. But it’s useful that he did, because once you see the tectonic plates of New Jersey, you can appreciate how shrewdly Christie navigated the terrain.

With the launch of Vox, there’s been a lot of discussion about its model of “explanatory journalism.” I like what I’ve seen on Vox so far and think they’ve found a promising new form. (I also admire that they launched their site with a piece on confirmation bias, a phenomenon that complicates the project of explanatory journalism and a lot of other journalism besides; it seems way better to name the problem and describe it clearly than to not address it at all.) But this New Yorker story is the kind of explanatory journalism that has always excited me. Here you get a whole world: not just the gears of an entire political culture but the people at the levers and the people caught in the works. And it’s thrilling.

Tour’s end


The nine-day INGENIOUS road trip and book tour, featuring me and Kevin Smith of Illuminati Motor Works, is over. Thank you to all who spread the word on Twitter and Facebook, to those who hosted us, and to those who attended the events. Thanks as well to Crown Publishers for supporting us. Some of the positives:

we reconnected with old friends

we saw Twitter friends in real life

we met many kind and interesting strangers

we spoke with passion about projects we’re proud of (the book, Ingenious, and the car, Seven)

this review on English Kills

this stunning photo of the car in Brooklyn by Lou Dubois

this hilarious post on Jalopnik, which briefly crashed the Illuminati site

And the one big negative:

the fucking weather

A few images will stick with me. Sports-car enthusiasts huddled around “Seven” at a classic-car meetup in New Jersey. Kevin delivering a soliloquy on rule-of-thumb engineering to students at MIT. Illuminati team members Nick Smith and George Kennedy, stoic and silent, trailering the car in the cold. Kevin standing next to the car in the dark outside a warehouse in Hoboken and explaining its features to 10 enthusiastic Hobokenites as I mentally begged him to wrap up because I was freezing. Scrambling to find parking for a 42-foot-long truck-and-trailer combo in New York City. Kevin zipping through Brooklyn traffic in the electric car so we wouldn’t be late to meet a reporter. The beauty of the powerHOUSE Arena in Dumbo and the shocking and uncharacteristic brevity of Kevin’s talk there. Jen making a surprise appearance at powerHOUSE, holding a cardboard sign that said “207 MPGe or Bust.” Kevin stopping at a gas station in Red Oak, Virginia, where the owner emerged and told us, laughing, “Sorry, we don’t sell spaceship fuel.” Kevin hawking the book in rest-stop parking lots. Kevin inspiring the children at my daughter’s school with a story about how he and my daughter made a farting My Little Pony doll out of LittleBits. Finally, I’ll always remember the wonderful tour-capping event in Charlottesville that brought together many of the people in the book: Kevin and Oliver Kuttner and Ann Cohen and Brad Jaeger and David Brown.

One final thank you: Thank you to my travel companions, Kevin Smith, Nick Smith, and George Kennedy. And especially Kevin. He was game for everything. He did his best to lift my spirits when I was stressed and worried. He was charming and funny and he made the whole thing work. It was inspiring to watch him speak about this car of his, this dream.

Who knows what will result? We stirred some things up, anyway.

Scouting about on the surface of things

“There is nothing in the history of technology in the past century and a half to suggest that infallible methods of invention have been discovered or are, in fact, discoverable…. As with most other human activities, the monotony and sheer physical labor in research can be relieved by the use of expensive equipment and tasks can thereby be attempted which would otherwise be wholly impossible. But it does not appear that new mysteries will only be solved and new applications of natural forces made possible by ever increasing expenditure. In many fields of knowledge, discovery is still a matter of scouting about on the surface of things where imagination and acute observation, supported only by simple technical aids, are likely to bring rich rewards.”

–from The Sources of Invention, 1969, and the epigraph of a book that someone handed to Illuminati Motor Works‘s Kevin Smith at our MIT event. Kevin read this passage and told me, “It could have been written yesterday.”

Good things that have happened

So INGENIOUS is out now, and people are reading it. Most seem to like it, which is gratifying. If you’re reading INGENIOUS, please shoot me a note and let me know what you think.

I wanted to gather a couple of links to nice things that have happened since the pub date.


1. I gave a 5-minute talk at Ignite Philly, an event where people are invited to share their passions with a supportive and increasingly drunk audience at Johnny Brenda’s, a bar in Philadelphia. Here’s the audio of all 15 Ignite talks, and here’s the audio of my talk, which was about why most cars suck from an efficiency standpoint and the inventors who are trying to change that.

2. Mother Jones, Slate, and Longreads published different excerpts of the book. Mother Jones also did a fun Q&A with me about how I picked the four Automotive X Prize teams I followed in the book, whether the prize resulted in any practical advances, and which car I’d most want to drive.

3. Matt Staggs at Biographile asked me a bunch of great questions about how I researched the book, the reputation of inventors in the culture, and why the X Prize almost wrecked a couple of lives.

4. The great Ryan Jones at The Penn Stater asked me about what inspired me to write the book and what the book says about “about America’s historic place as fertile ground for inventors and dreamers.” He also called the book “a blast,” writing that “you don’t have to be an engineer, or even all that interested in cars—I’m neither—to appreciate the cast of characters, the very real human drama, and Jason’s smart story telling.”

5. I shared a few of my favorite recent magazine pieces with an old friend, Dan Morrell, at Dog Ear Consultants.

6. Susan Carpenter, automotive writer for the Orange County Register, wrote a review of INGENIOUS in the Register’s Wheels section. I like the review because it’s sharp and well-written, but I also like it because I’ve been curious to know what true automotive experts think of the book, and Carpenter seems to appreciate what I tried to do. The piece is behind a paywall, so I’ll pull out a few quotes:

“A paean to the long-lost American art of invention, ‘Ingenious’ is a story that has all the built-in drama of the best fiction. It’s driven by characters that are, by turns, whip smart and wide-eyed and desperate, and a plot to achieve a seemingly unobtainable goal.”…

“Fagone does an impeccable job of conveying the angst of teams that had literally put everything on the line – their livelihoods, their marriages, their financial, emotional and physical well-being… He artfully conveys the competitors’ emotions along with the inner workings of technology in a manner that is understandable to the layman yet satisfying for the mechanically knowledgeable – a difficult feat most likely born from Fagone’s inherent disinterest in cars coupled with the imperative that he truly understand them…

“With ‘Ingenious,’ Fagone has penned a thought-provoking book that will appeal to automotive efficiency geeks and readers who long for America’s can-do past…”

7. Sonny Bunch of the Washington Free Beacon reviewed it. Sonny is very smart and I’ve enjoyed his writing for a while. I like this review because Sonny and I disagree about a lot of stuff politically, and he’s honest about what irritated him about my point of view. He finds things to appreciate about the book anyway:

Regardless, Ingenious is a fun read for car buffs, filled with quirky folks and quirkier autos. It’s a testament to Fagone’s writing that I left the book wanting to know more about one of the couples featured in the book, the wifely half of which initiates a divorce at the contest’s conclusion. And I wanted to know more about the cars as well. Will the Illuminati’s huge car ever be more than a one-off oddity? Will Edison2′s tiny car win over skeptical corporate overlords?

8. Everyday eBook reviewed INGENIOUS, calling it “a snapshot of the American can-do spirit.”

9. One of the people I write about in the book reviewed it on Goodreads. It’s not unbiased, obviously, but the review means a lot to me because of lines like this:

Even though I was there for parts of the competition, even though I knew how the story ends, while listening to this audio book I found myself cheering the teams, on the verge of tears during one scene at knockout because other “characters” were crying, and giddy at the “race” itself. I was experiencing it again and yet for the first time, as if maybe, just maybe, the ending would be different for some teams.

I’m a natural pessimist, and yet upon finishing this book I came away with the feeling of a rekindled excitement, a hope for the future, and much, much love.

10. I’ve pretty much finalized the itinerary for the Ingenious Road Trip in December. It looks kind of like this:


And here’s the map:

Here’s more info on the events. If you live near any of these places and you’re at all interested in the book or in electric vehicles or in the future of transportation, please do come out and see the show. It would be great to meet you.

To all who have tweeted about the book or shared these links with friends, thank you so much. More reviews etc. on the way.

Need your help


UPDATE: I’ve added an events page with confirmed dates.

I’m trying to set up a mini book tour / road trip for INGENIOUS and I need your help.

Here’s what I’d like to do. Kevin Smith, the man who built a 207-MPG electric car in an Illinois barn with his friends and family and his own bare hands, is willing to take a week off work and haul the car to the East Coast on the week of November 18 or the week of December 2. Either one. I’d like to visit some East Coast cities with Kevin and talk about the book. We’ll go as far north as Boston, as far south as Richmond, and anywhere in between. Here are some places we’d like to go:

I have a 10- to 15-minute Keynote talk about the book and the cars. I have a portable LCD projector. I have a Bluetooth clicker. God help me, I bought a Bluetooth clicker. I will bring the clicker and the projector to your bookstore or hacker space or university club, and I will bring the maniac Kevin Smith, and Kevin will bring his magnificent car. We’ll talk about the book together. We’ll talk about ingenuity and innovation and aerodynamics and electric-vehicle technology and why a lot of cars suck and how they can be better. We’ll talk about the power of ordinary people to change the world. Then we’ll give people rides in the car.

Does this sound like fun? I think it sounds like fun. But like I said, I need your help. Do you know anyone at a bookstore or hacker space or university that might want to host us? We could use any advice or direction. Please let me know: and @jfagone on Twitter. Thanks.

One month out


Hi. So it’s Sunday morning and I thought I’d take a few minutes to let you know what’s going on with me. The big thing is that the publication of my book, Ingenious, is one month away now. Books start shipping (or escaping electronically) on November 5. I’m excited. I’ve been thinking about the people in the book and trying to write their story for more than three years. Now others will read and respond, I hope, which is fun to think about.

Ingenious in a couple sentences: It’s about inventors and cars. In 2007, a nonprofit foundation announced a $10 million prize to create a 100-mile-per-gallon-equivalent car. This was before the Chevy Volt, before the Nissan Leaf, before the Tesla Model S. You couldn’t go to a dealer and lease a 100-MPG car for $250 a month like you can today. Because $10 million is a lot of money, more than 100 teams set out back then to build the car of the future. Mostly they were people you’ve never heard of — not big automakers but garage hackers, students and teachers, real-estate developers, race mechanics and engineers, coders, startups. I picked four teams and followed them through the competition and for three years after. The book is the story of the amazing things they achieved.

My first reading is on Saturday, October 19 at Philadelphia’s 215 Festival. The festival lineup this year is impressive: Nicholson Baker, Neal Pollack, Amanda Petrusich, Steve Volk. If you’re in Philly on Saturday, please come out. I’m reading with my friend Volk. I’ve seen him read before. He is really good. I’m going to try to keep the formal “reading” part short; instead I’ll try to show some slides, some pictures of cars, and just tell stories from the book. I’ll also talk about how the auto companies lost their way, how they let cars get heavy and bloated and aerodynamically offensive and why this is bad and stupid and what you can do about it.

Another thing: Recently I spoke with Matt Tullis for Gangrey: the Podcast. He mostly asked me about a long story I did for Philadelphia magazine, a story about a breakthrough in cancer research and how it transformed a 58-year-old carpenter named Walter Keller. If you’re into writer interviews, please do check out the Gangrey podcast — a lot of fascinating people have been on.

Thanks for reading. This is a strange way of making a living but it’s hard for me to imagine doing anything else and I couldn’t do it without you.

A passage

From John D. MacDonald’s The Deep Blue Good-By:

“I’m a darling girl.”

I didn’t want to be within fifteen hundred miles of this darling girl. I didn’t want to be in this October city. I wanted to be back aboard my Busted Flush moored in Slip F-18, Bahia Mar, Lauderdale, my 52 feet of custom houseboat which I could fill with my favorite brand of darling girls, the brown untroubled ones, eager galley slaves, the hair-salty, rump-sandy, beer-opening, fish-catching, happy-making girls in sun-faded fabrics, sun-streaked hair. But Miss Nina looked at me out of her brother Mike’s true blue eyes, and he had never asked me for anything else.

“I’ll tell you a story,” I said.

A sentence

Some days all you feel good about is a sentence. This is it for today:

A fire pit crackled, and the humid air filled with happy drunken chatter, and the hills blurred in the dusk.

Except… “dusk.” Dusk is kind of ruined for me.

5 things I’ve learned about guns

Lately, in between other projects, I’ve been reading about guns and the gun debate. After the Newtown massacre, it’s been hard not to. Also, I live just outside of Philadelphia, where it’s likely that gun-related violence has left tens of thousands with post-traumatic stress disorder, and where 1,243 people have been shot this year alone. This is an attempt to organize my thoughts and document some of what I’ve learned. I’m far from an expert, so if you know a fair amount about this issue, you’ll probably find this stuff redundant and obvious. I’m embarrassed to say that much of it has come as a surprise to me.

This is kind of long. Maybe save it to Pocket?

1. Holy shit is it easy to get guns in America. There are more than three and a half times as many gun stores in this country  (51,438) as there are McDonald’s restaurants (14,098). Fifty thousand gun stores. 7,356 pawn shops and 61,562 licensed collectors on top of that. And this is just the regulated part of the market, where background checks are supposed to screen out those not legally allowed to own firearms: convicted felons, those “adjudicated mentally defective,” fugitives, and others. Thanks to a huge loophole in the Gun Control Act of 1968, there’s also a vast informal market of unlicensed dealers and private sellers who aren’t required to perform background checks.

A private seller can’t knowingly sell a gun to someone he suspects isn’t allowed to have one. But he’s not required to ask questions or keep records. It’s legal to sell a gun in America for cash and a handshake. Forty percent of all gun sales take place without background checks. You can get a good sense of what’s out there by browsing, an Internet gun exchange. “No background check required,” reads one ad on Armslist for a Franken Gun AR15 ‘Assault Weapon’ (the ad was first pointed out by Businessweek). “Just cash face to face with valid PA Driver’s License. It’s Pandemonium!” Here’s a similar ad for a Colt AR-15 semi-automatic rifle: “Get this one today and not have to wait a week for a background check.” Here’s one for a SCAR 16 semi-automatic rifle: “Get this rifle b4 Christmas with no waiting on a background check. I am taking CASH offers.”

The AR-15 semi-automatic rifle was Adam Lanza’s gun. It’s what he used to murder 20 children and six adults at Sandy Hook Elementary School in Newtown, Connecticut. Have you seen all these stories about people flooding gun shows and gun shops to buy the same gun and the same high-capacity magazines of .223-caliber ammo? The simple fact is that we have no idea how many are law-abiding citizens and how many are felons, dangerously mentally ill, or otherwise prohibited from owning guns. Surely the vast majority are law-abiding citizens. But what’s the split? 99.99/.01? 98/2? No idea. We don’t know.

The obvious fix is to make background checks universal. Background checks are the low-hanging fruit of this debate. People on both the left and the right agree that we need to require them on all gun purchases. But on Meet the Press recently, NRA executive vice president Wayne LaPierre disagreed. “What the anti-second amendment movement wants to do is put every gun sale in he country under the thumb of the federal government,” he said. “Congress debated this at length. They said if you’re a hobbyist or collector, if someone in West Virginia, a hunter, wants to sell a gun to another hunter, he ought to be able to do it without being under the thumb of the federal government.”

2. People who have lost their gun rights due to mental illness can petition to get their guns back. This is true. This is current U.S. law. Read the lead anecdote from this great 2011 New York Times piece by Michael Luo:

In May 2009, Sam French hit bottom, once again. A relative found him face down in his carport “talking gibberish,” according to court records. He later told medical personnel that he had been conversing with a bear in his backyard and hearing voices. His family figured he had gone off his medication for bipolar disorder, and a judge ordered him involuntarily committed — the fourth time in five years he had been hospitalized by court order.

When Mr. French’s daughter discovered that her father’s commitment meant it was illegal for him to have firearms, she and her husband removed his cache of 15 long guns and three handguns, and kept them after Mr. French was released in January 2010 on a new regime of mood-stabilizing drugs.

Ten months later, he appeared in General District Court — the body that handles small claims and traffic infractions — to ask a judge to restore his gun rights. After a brief hearing, in which Mr. French’s lengthy history of relapses never came up, he walked out with an order reinstating his right to possess firearms.

The next day, Mr. French retrieved his guns.

“The judge didn’t ask me a whole lot,” said Mr. French, now 62. “He just said: ‘How was I doing? Was I taking my medicine like I was supposed to?’ I said, ‘Yes, sir.’ ”

The Times piece goes on to describe how the NRA and Congress created this loophole. It had to do with the 2007 Virginia Tech massacre, in which a mentally unstable Virginia Tech student named Seung-Hui Cho killed 32 and wounded 17 in a gun rampage on that school’s campus. As it turned out, a judge had flagged Cho, two years earlier, as “an imminent danger to himself as a result of mental illness.” Cho should have been stopped from buying his guns — two semi-automatic pistols, a Glock and a Walther. But he wasn’t. He bought the Walther at a pawn shop and cleared the background check after just a ten-minute wait.

After Virginia Tech, Congresswoman Carolyn McCarthy, who has sought to limit illegal gun sales, helped pass a bill to make it easier for states to share their mental-health records with the FBI, which manages the background-check system. The NRA agreed — but there was a catch. They wanted to carve out a path for people in the system — people who had been deemed “mentally defective” or involuntarily committed for mental-health care — to get their gun rights back if they could show that they were no longer a threat to public safety. The NRA said it was to help returning veterans; the NRA’s chief lobbyist told the Times, “We don’t want to treat our soldiers as potential criminals because they’re struggling with the aftermath of dealing with their service.”

“After the bill became law in 2008,” the Times writes, “the N.R.A. began lobbying state lawmakers to keep requirements for petitioners to a minimum.”

3. There isn’t enough good data. Forget, for a second, that 40 percent of gun sales take place without background checks. Forget that we can never know how many criminals are buying guns on the informal market. Let’s just ask a simple question about sales from licensed dealers. In the last month alone, three shooters intent on killing as many as possible — the Clackamas mall shooter, Adam Lanza, and the murderer of the Rochester firefighters — have selected AR-15 semi-automatic rifles. So: In the two weeks after Newtown, how many people who tried to buy AR-15s from licensed gun dealers were screened out by background checks?

We don’t know the answer. We don’t know because the government only releases the most paltry aggregate yearly data on people who are denied guns by background checks. The data on the FBI’s website is only broken down by the reason for denial: so many felons, so many fugitives, etc. It’s not broken down by state, region, city, gun shop, or type of gun.

As a nation, we collect data on auto accidents. We collect data on outbreaks of food poisoning and defective children’s toys. We do this to prevent unnecessary deaths. When it comes to guns, though, we don’t collect data in the same way. The NRA, by arguing that better data would only lead to gun confiscation, has successfully pressured Congress and some states to stop the collection and public dissemination of data that might help us get a handle on the gun-violence and illegal-gun problem.

The NRA has targeted the Centers for Disease Control, intimidating its leaders and its scientists. It has targeted doctors, supporting legislation in seven states that would punish doctors if they “even discuss firearm safety” with patients. (Florida already has such a law.) The NRA has even kept essential streams of data out of the hands of law enforcement. In 2003, a Kansas Congressman and NRA ally named Todd Tiahrt inserted an amendment into a larger spending bill that “removed from the public record a government database that traces guns recovered in crimes back to the dealers,” according to a 2010 Washington Post story. The amendment effectively “shields retailers from lawsuits, academic study and public scrutiny.” A police source told the Post that the Tiahrt Amendment “was extraordinary, and the most offensive thing you can think of. The tracing data, which is now secret, helped us see the big picture of where guns are coming from.”

Now, because the NRA and Congress have resisted building a central registry of guns, the ATF is forced to use an antiquated system to trace guns used in crimes:

When law enforcement officers recover a gun and serial number, workers at the bureau’s National Tracing Center here — a windowless warehouse-style building on a narrow road outside town — begin making their way through a series of phone calls, asking first the manufacturer, then the wholesaler and finally the dealer to search their files to identify the buyer of the firearm.

About a third of the time, the process involves digging through records sent in by companies that have closed, in many cases searching by hand through cardboard boxes filled with computer printouts, hand-scrawled index cards or even water-stained sheets of paper.

In the past few weeks I’ve read a lot of arguments against passing new laws to limit illegal guns and reduce gun violence. Most of these arguments say there’s no data showing that prior laws have been effective — in particular, the assault-weapons ban of 1994-2004. Maybe that’s because the assault-weapons ban really didn’t work. (Salon has gathered studies showing that the ban was indeed effective.) But maybe it’s because Congress has made it extraordinarily hard to know the answer.

4. A semi-automatic rifle with .223-caliber ammunition is a powerful weapon. After the Sandy Hook massacre, I noticed several writers making an argument that struck me as odd: Adam Lanza’s gun — a Bushmaster AR-15 semi-automatic rifle — isn’t a particularly powerful one. I first saw the argument in a New York Times story on the AR-15: “Defenders say that most AR-15s are chambered for .223 or 5.56 ammunition, low-caliber rounds that are less deadly than those used in many handguns.” It also popped up at the National Review, where Robert VerBruggen argued that “the .223-caliber ammo in Lanza’s rifle is banned for deer hunting in some states on the grounds that it’s too weak,” and at the Daily Beast, where Megan McArdle wrote that the AR-15 “is normally used for target shooting and varmint hunting; my understanding is that it is not really big enough to humanely take down a deer.”

The more I looked, the more examples I found. Here’s a former member of the NRA board of directors arguing after the Clackamas Mall shooting in Oregon that the shooter’s .223 Remington “is not a particularly high-powered cartridge at all.” Here’s the editor of a small-town Pennsylvania newspaper arguing that “The rifle used in [Newtown] was not a ‘high-powered’ rifle… most hunters consider it unethical to use .223 cartridge on deer.” Here’s Instapundit in 2003, after D.C. sniper John Muhammad was apprehended with a Bushmaster .223, criticizing a lefty journalist for referring to the Bushmaster “as a ‘high-powered rifle.’ It’s not. Rifles firing the .223 cartridge aren’t ‘high-powered’ and calling them that just shows ignorance.” In his book Glock: The Rise of America’s Gun, gun-industry reporter Paul Barrett argues that “military-style rifles… do not use particularly powerful ammunition, at least compared to the .30-06 rounds preferred by many hunters.” (To be fair to Barrett, he does add later, “A couple of well-placed bullets of any standard caliber will do grievous harm.”)

It’s true that .223 rounds aren’t as large as other kinds of rounds. But everything else about the argument that they are “weak” or “less lethal” or “not particularly powerful” is false and misleading.

I didn’t realize this at first. I didn’t know enough. I had read the medical examiner’s comments about the Newtown children’s “devastating” wounds: Lanza’s bullets were “ ‘designed in such a fashion [so that] the energy is deposited in the tissue so the bullet stays in,’ resulting in deep damage.” I was confused: Given the recent carnage, how could anyone say that Lanza’s rifle wasn’t high-powered? So I asked a question on my Twitter feed about the line from the New York Times article: “Defenders say that most AR-15s are chambered for .223 or 5.56 ammunition, low-caliber rounds that are less deadly than those used in many handguns.” Seth Fletcher, an editor at Popular Science who grew up in southwest Missouri, responded in a series of tweets I’ve stitched together here:

That is one of the most disingenuous things I have ever read. I’ve fired a .223 rifle. They are cannons. *M16s* shoot .223…. Saying .223 is a small caliber and thus less deadly than handgun ammo is like saying gamma rays have short wavelengths, thus less deadly. Caliber = diameter. Not mass or velocity or power. .223 is small caliber but has LOTS of gunpowder behind it. Thus deadly at 100s of yards.

Seth linked to a picture of two rounds, a .22 and a .223, compared to a penny.

Later, I read an excerpt from C.J. Chivers’s book The Gun on Talking Points Memo:

To its champions, the AR-15 was an embodiment of fresh thinking. Critics saw an ugly little toy. Wherever one stood, no one could deny the ballistics were intriguing. The .223’s larger load of propellant and the AR-15’s twenty-inch barrel worked together to move the tiny bullet along at ultrafast speeds — in excess of thirty-two hundred feet per second, almost three times the speed of sound.

So: Is the .223 a powerful round? I guess it depends on your definition of powerful.

Would you consider a round that can bring down a 300-pound deer powerful? Here is an article from the NRA Hunter’s Rights website that makes the case for .223 as a deer-hunting round:

The .223 may be controversial as a deer round, but ammunition experts argue that it is certainly capable of getting the job done quickly and efficiently.

“With good shot placement and bullet selection, I have no doubt in my mind that you can ethically harvest medium-sized game like whitetail deer,” said Jared Kutney, centerfire rifle and pistol development manager for Federal Premium Ammunition…

Kutney points out that determining the lethality of a firearm isn’t based just on the size of the caliber. How much killing power a firearm has is a function of caliber size and bullet selection.

“Penetration and transfer of energy, or expansion of the bullet, are both critical to achieve a lethal shot,” added Kutney. “They’re just as important as caliber.”

Consider today’s intricately designed, high-power .223 ammunition, like the 55-grain Barnes Triple-Shock and 60-grain Nosler Partition by Federal Cartridge Company. According to Kutney, “Either of those loads will bring down a 300-pound whitetail.”

If the NRA doesn’t convince, check out this short clip from the show Americana Outdoors, which I discovered here. Warning: In the context of Newtown, this is difficult to watch.

In the clip, an employee of Smith & Wesson goes hunting for a giant aoudad — a goat-antelope — with a Smith & Wesson AR-15-style semi-automatic rifle. The rifle is loaded with .223. “These days the technology in ammo development over the last 4 or 5 years really has come a long way,” the Smith & Wesson guy says. “It really is a viable round. It’s something that people should seriously think about.”

In the video, you see the guy setting up his rifle from 150 yards away. He trains it on the giant aoudad. The kill shot comes at 4:10 in the video. There is only one shot. The animal immediately convulses, crumples, and plunges down a rocky embankment. “That shot, I was pretty excited about it,” the Smith & Wesson guy explains afterward. “Because I took that shot on an animal that is pretty tough to kill. With a .223 round, which is pretty small… and it had no problem with this one. And it went straight down.”

I write all this with reluctance. It feels strange to respond to such an absurd argument. And the journalist Elspeth Reeve has already capably dismantled it. But I keep seeing it again and again. Opponents of new laws to limit illegal gun sales and curb gun violence clearly find it rhetorically useful to understate the power of semi-automatic assault-style rifles (also called “modern sporting rifles”). It appears to be a common and long-running strategy. I think the point is to draw those who want new laws into a trap. If opponents of new laws can convince people that the weapons aren’t as powerful as commonly portrayed, then anyone arguing for a ban on AR-15s will have to argue for a ban on “more powerful” weapons as well, like certain kinds of hunting rifles.

This is the conversation opponents of new laws want to have: a conversation about the power of the round. I think the response is obvious. As Patrick Radden Keefe pointed out in the New Yorker, “…the only non-military context in which a high-capacity magazine proves decisively useful for the shooter is one in which you are trying to mow down as many civilians as possible before you get killed by a SWAT team.” Although an assault-style rifle with a bunch of 30-round magazines is undeniably a powerful weapon, the case for banning it — the gun and the magazines — rests not on the power of its round but on its ability to kill the maximum number of people in the shortest amount of time.

5. There are few, if any, centrist gun experts. As others have pointed out, the two sides of this issue largely live in different worlds. Gun owners don’t understand the left’s squeamishness about guns, and the left doesn’t understand gun owners’ love of them. I wanted to learn more about guns, so I went looking for a centrist guide. I wanted to read a book by someone with ties to the gun culture who also appreciates the gun-violence problem.

All roads led to Paul Barrett, author of Glock: The Rise of America’s Gunassistant managing editor at Businessweek, and a guy who is often quoted as an expert in stories about guns.

I read Glock. I read everything Barrett has written about guns in the last month for Businessweek, which is a lot. I watched him on MSNBC, describing his views on guns as “idiosyncratic” — not on the right, not on the left.

Here’s what I think about Paul Barrett: very sharp reporter. Good writer. Author of an impressive, useful book. But not a centrist. Barrett writes about guns from the right.

This isn’t even a close call. You can look at how Barrett mocks Bob Costas for “indulging in fantasies” about a less lethal America; you can look at how, in Glock, he refers to those on the left “the gun controllers”; you can look at Barrett defending the NRA and praising their “characteristic flair“; you can read his column about the recent Wayne LaPierre press conference, which basically transcribed LaPierre’s talking points without disputing any of them, save for one paragraph at the end; you can listen to Barrett advise a liberal radio host to “stop talking about the guns” and instead to “talk about crime”; you can compare his post-Newtown solutions for curbing future violence (post armed guards at schools, expand registries of the mentally ill) with the NRA’s post-Newtown solutions (post armed guards at schools, expand registries of the mentally ill); you can see him, in Glock, writing with a sort of glee about the fact that, whenever the left talks about new laws, gun manufacturers simply flood the market with new guns and make a fortune from panic buying.

All of these are giveaways. But the best way to tell where Barrett stands is what’s not in Barrett’s work: any kind of critique of the gun culture. He just tells us, over and over, that we live in a gun culture, therefore new laws probably won’t work. He presents the gun culture as monolithic, righteous, and powerful beyond measure. But it’s a vast culture! Barrett doesn’t distinguish between elements within it. In Glock, the militia movement of the ’90s and the standoffs at Ruby Ridge and Waco are all handled in one brief paragraph. President Obama is mentioned exactly twice, both times in policy contexts; you’d never get any sense that fantasies about secret Obama plans to confiscate guns and place conservatives into concentration camps might be nourishing private arsenals and stockpiles. Some random hunter who recently emailed Talking Points Memo does a better job in a few paragraphs of laying out the culture’s fault lines than Barrett does in hundreds of pages:

I can’t remember seeing a semi-automatic weapon of any kind at a shooting range until the mid-1980’s. Even through the early-1990’s, I don’t remember the idea of “personal defense” being a decisive factor in gun ownership. The reverse is true today: I have college-educated friends – all of whom, interestingly, came to guns in their adult lives – for whom gun ownership is unquestionably (and irreducibly) an issue of personal defense. For whom the semi-automatic rifle or pistol [the Glock is a semi-automatic pistol] – with its matte-black finish, laser site, flashlight mount, and other “tactical” accoutrements – effectively circumscribe what’s meant by the word “gun.” At least one of these friends has what some folks – e.g., my fiancee, along with most of my non-gun-owning friends – might regard as an obsessive fixation on guns; a kind of paraphilia that (in its appetite for all things tactical) seems not a little bit creepy. Not “creepy” in the sense that he’s a ticking time bomb; “creepy” in the sense of…alternate reality. Let’s call it “tactical reality.”

I’m not trying to pick on Barrett here. I’ve learned a lot from him. I think I’ve even gotten a few people to buy his book. I only want to point out an interesting lacuna. Polls show that gun owners hold less extreme views than the NRA leadership, and a majority of Americans support stricter gun laws. So why aren’t there more centrists who write regularly about guns? Has the influence and extremity of the NRA has made a true centrist position impossible to occupy? (I haven’t yet read C.J. Chivers’s The Gun. I’ve heard amazing things.)

More on where I’m coming from:

I haven’t written much about guns, unless you count the videogame and plastic varieties. Several years ago, I did write a long piece for GQ about a shooting in Philadelphia, a piece that involved some research into the FN 5.7 Herstal handgun. Before that, in 2003, I spent six months reporting on the Cincinnati Police Department, following a class of new recruits through the Academy. I was with them when they were issued their guns, and I was with them when they were taught how to shoot. After they graduated, I rode along with several of the new officers in the back of their cruisers. One night, I rode along in a SWAT van, on a raid. (I did the ride-alongs because I might write a book about the Cincinnati PD, but I moved out of the city before I had the chance.) Police organizations tend to support efforts to curb gun violence and promote gun safety, but I didn’t really talk to the officers about gun policy. Mostly what I got from the experience was a powerful sense of the arsenals that criminals commanded. This is what’s out there, I kept hearing. This is what we’re up against.

I don’t own a gun. Years ago, I did some target shooting at an interfaith religious retreat in rural Pennsylvania. I was taking photographs there for a college class (the photo at the top of the post is mine). It was the kind of retreat that had a belly-dancing class, Wiccan literature, and a bunch of people walking around without pants or tops. Also a gun range. I don’t remember the kind of gun I shot. I do remember being kind of distracted by the nudity. I remember the feeling of the recoil. I don’t have anything profound to say about what it was like to shoot a gun for the first time. I’m pretty sure I enjoyed it. The people running the retreat told me that, for a first-timer, I was a fairly accurate shot. I felt proud.

One last note. If you see any factual errors in this post, please let me know — jfagone at gmail dot com, or jfagone on Twitter — and I’ll correct.

Sympathy for the Devil

This morning I came across one of Jeffrey Goldberg’s 2010 pieces from Cuba — in particular, the one in which he goes to the Havana aquarium with Fidel Castro to see a dolphin show. It contains maybe the most bizarro exchange I’ve ever read. I won’t spoil it for you, but something about it fills me with glee. I’ve always liked profiles of villains, I guess, and in the best ones, there are often moments like this, when either the reporter or the subject drops his guard and you get to see a flash of kindness or joy or humanity. I’ve been trying to come up with a list of such instances — villains’ most likable moments — and the results are below, listed by villain. I was looking for a particular kind of thing here: not a puff piece, not a hit piece, but an actual meeting of minds between a journalist and a public figure. A reviled subject reaching out, a skeptical reporter willing to listen. A collision. Let me know if you think of any: @jfagone on Twitter.

UPDATE, Nov. 26: I found a few more good ones, from Ben McGrath, Seth Wickersham (h/t @AlanSiegelDC), Stephen Rodrick, and Elizabeth Gilbert. The inclusion of the McGrath story on Nick Denton stretches the definition of villain a bit, but the piece addresses the “caricature of Denton as an evil, soulless, Machiavellian puppeteer,” and it’s so enjoyable, I thought it was worth adding.


“Goldberg,” Fidel said, “ask him questions about dolphins.”

“What kind of questions?” I asked.

“You’re a journalist, ask good questions,” he said, and then interrupted himself. “He doesn’t know much about dolphins anyway,” he said, pointing to Garcia [the director of the Havana aquarium]. “He’s actually a nuclear physicist.”

“You are?” I asked.

“Yes,” Garcia said, somewhat apologetically.

“Why are you running the aquarium?” I asked.

“We put him here to keep him from building nuclear bombs!” Fidel said, and then cracked-up laughing.

–Jeffrey Goldberg, Fidel: ‘Cuban Model’ Doesn’t Even Work For Us AnymoreThe Atlantic, Sept. 2010


There was, of course, a catch. I had to agree to talk about nothing except football. “We want the Boss to relax,” Ray Price told me, “but he can’t relax if you start yelling about Vietnam, race riots or drugs. He wants to ride with somebody who can talk football.” He cast a baleful eye at the dozen or so reporters waiting to board the press bus, then shook his head sadly. “I checked around,” he said. “But the others are hopeless — so I guess you’re it.”

“Wonderful,” I said. “Let’s do it.”

We had a fine time. I enjoyed it — which put me a bit off balance, because because I’d figured Nixon didn’t know any more about football than he did about ending the war in Vietnam. He had made a lot of allusions to thinks like “end runs” and “power sweeps” on the stump but it never occurred to me that he actually knew anything more about football than he knew about the Grateful Dead.

But I was wrong. Whatever else might be said about Nixon — and there is still serious doubt in my mind that he could pass for Human — he is a goddamn stone fanatic on every facet of pro football. At one point in our conversation, when I was feeling a bit pressed for leverage, I mentioned  a down & out pass — in the waning moments of the 1967 Super Bowl mismatch between Green Bay and Oakland — to an obscure, second-string Oakland receiver named Bill Miller that had stuck in my mind because of its pinpoint style and precision.

He hesitated for a moment, lost in thought, then he whacked me on the thigh & laughed: “That’s right, by God! The Miami boy!”

I was stunned. He not only remembered the play, but he knew where Miller had played in college.

–Hunter S. Thompson, Fear and Loathing on the Campaign Trail ’72

PITBULL (rapper, relentless self-promoter, multi-product endorser)

Pit, I said, You were Uncle Luke’s protege. You had the whole city behind you. Via your pitiable heart the world could’ve intuited something of Miami’s! And you literally traded it all away.

He grabbed my glass, shook it to toll the one unmelted cube. The woman fetched another vodka.

He calmly mentioned that he was the one who got the key to the city two and a half years ago. “I was up there shaking hands with city fathers, man, you know? Me.” Not young Pit, he meant. Mr. Worldwide, the rebrand. Miami, he reminded me, was built in the ’80s on flight capital. It was sold and resold depending on the street price of coke, the exchange rate, who was in power where. Transfer payments, Pit said. Drug money and life savings; condominiums, vacations, and retirement homes. “Shit’s the same thing.” Our economy was built on convincing people to bring and invest and squander the wealth they made elsewhere. “So now of course, I can’t just talk about the city,” he said. “Can’t just be, ‘Oh, this is how Miami actually is.’ I have to give ‘em the Miami they want. I have to get people to want to come down here and pay for it.”

–Kent Russell, Doggy StyleGQ, April 2012

WARD CHURCHILL (left-wing ethnic studies professor who called people working in the World Trade Center on September 11 “little Eichmanns”)

I tell him that for someone who’s not running for office, he sure sounds an awful lot like a politician, and that he’s in violation of my 90 percent rule, which states that 90 percent of people who say they have no response to a charge are guilty as charged. Churchill vehemently disagrees, citing prisons, in which “90 percent of people don’t belong there.”

“You don’t believe that,” I scoff.

“Wanna start counting them?”

I don’t. I’d rather order us more drinks.

As the night wears on, I feel transported back to my college days, when, on any given evening, you could end up in an off-campus bar with some batty radical professor, drinking, arguing, and throwing darts–at each other. Churchill and I, in repeated cycles, suffer through the classic three stages of happy hour: boozy bonhomie, injurious repartee, then schmaltzy reconciliation.

We find common ground on a few things. We agree that singer Townes Van Zandt is God, or was, until he drank himself to death. We resolve that Paul Newman characters make for good children’s names (Luke, Hud, etc.). We concur that one of the most satisfying lines in the English language (Churchill’s favorite) comes from Dashiell Hammett in The Dain Curse, when he describes a woman’s face as a “dusky oval mask between black hat and black fur coat.”

–Matt Labash, The Ward Churchill Notoriety TourThe Weekly Standard, April 2005

MARION BARRY (four-term mayor of D.C. mayor, former federal inmate/cocaine smoker)

When I ask him what the biggest regret of his life is, he has only one woman on his mind: “Effi.”

He’s referring to the late Effi Barry, his third wife and mother of his son, Christopher. Effi was an elegant former model with an aristocratic bearing, best known for sitting by Barry every day during the six-week Vista trial, hooking a rug in supportive silence, while a parade of witnesses detailed sex’n’drug specifics that would’ve caused any normal wife to have a stroke.

She stuck with Barry for a while longer, then left him before he went to prison. They remained close, however. And he says that in the years before she died of myeloid leukemia in 2007, they even talked about getting remarried. The depth of his affection for her was evidenced from what he said at her funeral at National Cathedral: “I was not late, this time, Effi. I was on time.”

One afternoon, in Barry’s City Council office, after a vigorous interrogation, he says, “Wanna go to lunch? I ain’t got no money. Card’s still messed up.” Before we do, however, he walks over to a framed photo of him with a laughing Effi at a chamber of commerce dinner. “Come look at this over here. Look how fine she looks. Yeah, my God.” I ask if he misses her. “Absolutely,” he says. “I do. I miss her. For about the last ten years or so, I didn’t dream. After my transplant, I started dreaming again. I dream in color. The toxins are out of my body. .  .  . Two or three nights ago, I dreamed about her.”

I ask what he dreamed. “I don’t want to get into that,” Barry says, as he often does about subjects he brings up.

–Matt Labash, A Rake’s ProgressThe Weekly Standard, Sept. 2009

MICHAEL SAVAGE (conservative radio talker who once told a prank caller, “Oh, you’re one of the sodomites. You should only get aids and die, you pig”)

While Limbaugh addresses the faithful, sometimes with a wink, Savage’s show is self-conscious in a different way. He freely acknowledges the difference between his life on the radio and his life off it. (“Twenty-one hours a day I live in misery,” he once said, when he was feeling unusually cheerful, or unusually glum—it can be hard to tell. “Three hours a day I’m happy.”) And he keeps listeners apprised of his rapidly shifting emotions and of his various states of physical not-quite-wellness. During one memorable broadcast, he opened his mail and found an envelope from a relative containing a picture of his father. “I’m older than he was when he died,” Savage said, and then he held forth on the inherent certainty and uncertainty of death. He sounded rattled. “I ate nuts during the break, I got this picture, now I’m having palpitations,” he said. Trying to recover, he briefly discussed Sunnis and Shiites (“I don’t ever want to know the difference”), but found himself distracted, again, by the photograph. “He looked good—look at him,” Savage said, as if he were expecting his listeners to agree. “Lotta good it did him.”

–Kalefeh Sanneh, Party of OneThe New Yorker, August 2009


Rove’s intellectual hero is James Madison; his only child is named Andrew Madison Rove. The first time we spoke, I asked him about Madison’s Federalist No. 10, which is about “curing the mischiefs of faction” (by “faction,” Madison meant, roughly speaking, what we’d call “interest groups”). “Very good! Very good!” Rove boomed out, and then he elaborated, defending interest groups as being supportive of the national interest: “I think this goes back to the definition of ‘faction.’ I don’t think Madison was contemplating, you know, the American Dry Cleaners Association. I think he was thinking about farmers, or tradesmen, or people who lived in the mountains, or planters, or seacoast dwellers, or townspeople, or land speculators, or stockjobbers. So I think he was thinking of it in a different way, much closer to what I’m suggesting is the proper way to think about it, than in the way that some look at modern American politics. It’s not so much that the farmer says, ‘I have to have $5.6 billion in drought relief,’ as it is ‘Do you recognize the importance of animal husbandry and of rural America?’ and ‘Do you have something that gives me hope for my future and for the future of my children?’ The implication that, in No. 10, Madison is saying that groups are driven by their interest and there’s only one way in which their interest can be satisfied, I think, is incorrect.”

–Nicholas Lemann, The Controller, The New Yorker, May 2003

KIM DOTCOM (file-sharing magnate facing charges for digital piracy)

Kim is a large man, but tonight he seems as vulnerable as a child beyond rest. He’s in a reflective mood and wants to talk, long into the night. He remembers so clearly how difficult it was to rise again after his takedown in Germany, the effort it had taken to emerge with a new dotcom business and a new Dotcom name. Megaupload was to be a dynasty for Kim Dotcom’s children to build on; would provide the legacy of Kim Dotcom himself. He’d rekindle the ashes of to debut a site that revealed Kim as a self-made Ozymandias of a digital empire, an inspirational builder of worlds. After years of work, his mega-monument was nearly complete.

“But what sort of inspiration could I be now?” Kim asks. He will win the case against him and get his money back too. And then?

His wife is young and beautiful. “And me?” Kim says. I’m …” He gestures to himself. If the case drags on, if they are stuck for years in this dull empty mansion, Kim worries about the strain on his marriage. He isn’t so keen on his prospects either.

–Charles Graeber, Inside the Mansion — and Mind — of Kim Dotcom, the Most Wanted Man on the Net, Wired, October 2012

ROGER AILES (the mind behind Fox News)

“Now look at Megyn.”

By “Megyn,” he means, of course, Fox fox Megyn Kelly, the meanest of the mean girls, the heaving, sumptuous blond with the wide-set eyes, the briskly triangular chin, and the porno sneer she directs at ill-fated liberal guests. Roger Ailes loves Megyn Kelly (in a fatherly way, of course): “She’s a host.For one thing, she’s fearless — she’d crawl down a smokestack for a story. But look at the way she moves. She’d move like that if she was arguing at the dinner table. Very natural. O’Reilly’s the same way. He’s an Irishman who likes to argue. He’d do it anywhere. We just found a way for him to do it on TV.”

Now, if you talk to some other network people, they’ll tell you that Roger’s not exactly the first person to figure out that people would rather look at pretty girls reading the news than plain ones. “Roger’s just willing to go further than anyone else,” one industry insider says. “He takes the obvious further than anyone else. Everybody else goes halfway, and they wind up looking foolish.” Roger, however, has a different take. He is able to hire authentic talent — that is, talent who have the ability to appear authentic in front of a camera — because he himself is authentic. “I’m not trying to be anyone,” he says. “You know why other executives always hire phonies? Because they’re phonies. They hire phonies because they like phonies. They’re comfortable with them.” It’s the same reason they all hire left-wingers — “because they are left-wingers.”

–Tom Junod, Why Does Roger Ailes Hate America?, Esquire, January 2011

ANDREW BREITBART (right-wing Internet impresario)

He says that he is “blissful” when he is on the Internet. “When I see orchestra conductors caught up in the ecstasy and the fury of the moment—in which they have the trombone guy over there, and the oboe guy over there, and somehow it’s all working out—to me it feels that way, a lot of the time,” he told me. “I believe that my brain chemistry has changed as a result of this, mostly for the better. I am sated. I am complete in this environment. This is the environment I needed in order to become what I needed to become. With the Internet, I have communication with large amounts of people, in perpetuity. Always having a new war, a new battle.”

–Rebecca Mead, Rage Machine, The New Yorker, May 2010


The former champ picked up a bird and held it firmly in his fists, fondling its feathers. He walked toward the edge of the roof and tossed the pigeon, underhanded, into the sky. It took a moment to right itself, banked to the left, and then burst upward to join the rest of the flock. Tyson thought back to the first punch he ever threw, when he was ten years old. “I was with my friends and we robbed this person’s house,” he said. “I had, like, sixteen hundred bucks in my pocket, and I was in this pigeon shop, and I wanted these birds so bad.”

–Reeves Wiedeman, Feathers, The New Yorker, March 2011


I suddenly wonder, halfway through our interview, if I am looking at two men in clown make-up who are suffering from depression. I cautiously ask them this and Violent J immediately replies. “I’m medicated,” he says. “I have a lot of medicine that I take. For depression. Panic attacks are really a serious part of my life.” He points at Shaggy. “He’s gone through some things as well.”

“You do a show in front of how many hundreds or thousands of people.” Shaggy nods. “You’re giving your full being, your soul, to every person in that crowd, every pore in your body is sweating, you’re fighting consciousness, just to get it out of you, and after the show all your fans are partying, ‘Yeah! Rock and roll!’ And you’re just here.” He glances around the dressing room. “You’re just fucking sitting here.”

–Jon Ronson, And God created controversy, The Guardian, October 2010

NICK DENTON (founder/CEO of Gawker Media)

“Nick is a bit of a sphinx on purpose,” Joel Johnson, the longest-serving Gizmodo writer, said. “He has some of the attributes of the dork who wraps his Asperger’s around him like a cloak.”

“There’s no point in writing about Nick if you can’t get to the fundamental problem of his nihilism,” Moe Tkacik, who has worked at both Gawker and Jezebel, said.

“He likes pretty things,” Daulerio said.

“He takes cancer very seriously,” Sicha said.

“He wants to be Warhol,” McClear said.

“He’s always wanted to be a magazine editor,” Welch said. “He’ll deny it to his grave.”

“What he really wants is to be the editor of the New York Times,” Spiegelman said.

None of these people really dislike Denton, and some of them are quite fond of him. With old friends, particularly those outside the blogging world, he is “curiously loyal,” as Gapper says, even if he is also “ruthless, actually, in lots of ways.” Several people mentioned that they’d sought Denton’s approval before agreeing to talk about him. “Be interesting,” he invariably responded. Denton once chided his boyhood friend David Galbraith for marvelling to a reporter that at the age of thirteen Nick was already reading The Economist. Galbraith’s crime was to come off sounding “too suburban.” Denton preferred that I not talk to his sister, Rebecca, because “she’s going to give you empty nothings,” as he put it. He also seems uncharacteristically protective of her privacy. Rebecca is three years younger than Nick, and lives in London. “She looks after her kids and writes children’s books,” he said. She used to call him Tricky Nicky, or so he says.

–Ben McGrath, Search and DestroyThe New Yorker, October 2010

RIDDICK BOWE (brain-damaged boxer who served 30 days in prison and 6 months of house arrest for abducting his estranged wife and kids)

The phone rings. Bowe answers: ”World’s finest, Big Daddy, here. Be brief.” He listens a few minutes, grunts, then hangs up. ”Guy wants to invest my money,” he says. ”All day I get these calls.” One of the few fighters who seems financially set for life, Bowe doesn’t understand the less frugal in his profession. ”You make $1 million, you tell me you can’t live on the 6 percent — $60,000?” Bowe says. ”I once had this brother ask me why I was training so hard. He said, ‘You just gonna be back in the ghetto with us.’ I’m so afraid of losing my money and seeing him back in the ghetto. It ain’t gonna happen.”

He turns his attention back to the screen, where the former champions are chatting around a table. Except for Foreman, they’re all hard to understand. ”It’s funny: listen to those guys, they’re all punchy,” Bowe observes. ”And they did it to each other, punching each other. Ain’t it something?”

For someone with a diagnosis of brain damage, Bowe has a lucid grasp on the realities of his former profession. ”You realize you’re taking a chance,” Bowe says. ”You may not come out as you went in. You may slur. You may not remember things. That’s part of the risk.”

His evaluation of his own career is also dead-on. ”Once I won the title and took care of my family, I didn’t care as much,” says Bowe, who bought homes for nearly all of his siblings. ”That’s why I respect Ali and Holmes so much: they did it for a long time.”

He then asks a question. ”I don’t talk that bad, do I?” I tell him his voice is thicker and raspier than when he was champ. Bowe pauses. ”But that could be caused by a lot of things, right?”

–Stephen Rodrick, Can Riddick Bowe Answer the Bell?, The New York Times Magazine, October 2000

DAN SNYDER (unpopular owner of the Washington Redskins who filed a $2 million libel suit against the Washington City Paper after it ran “The Cranky Redskins Fan’s Guide to Dan Snyder”)

Like Jerry Jones, Snyder has been transparent in his desire to be a football guy. He sometimes watches film and likes to talk shop with football staffers and agents. One of the central complications in working for Snyder is that he has so few close friends that his football guys, by proxy, become them, which is why he took Allen and Shanahan to the Bahamas to celebrate the RG3 trade. “He merges personal and business,” says [ex-Redskins COO Dave] Donovan. “Meetings turn into dinners, which turn into movies at his house, which turn into meetings again.”

During the day, Snyder might call a staffer into his office and ask him to light a cigar, just so the owner, who quit stogies years ago, can revel in the smoke. He is a night owl, wired on Diet Mountain Dew, so an employee might get a call at 4 a.m. If it’s an 8 a.m. call, watch out; that means he hasn’t slept. But while almost all associates prefer to talk off the record, fearing Snyder’s wrath, most don’t trash him. Many see a well-intentioned but distrusting boss who is nothing if not consistent. He always goes big and lives and dies with the results. Donovan, now a partner at a DC law firm, says that during his six years with the Redskins, “Dan didn’t change. My understanding of him changed.”

Snyder can be petulant, gnawing on an unlit cigar and grinding the wet end into someone’s neck. He can be thoughtful; after Chris Wallace’s father, Mike, the legendary 60 Minutes reporter, died in April, Snyder was one of the people who sent Chris a card and flowers. He can flaunt his status, sometimes having his driver drop him off at the front door of Redskins Park instead of at his parking space 10 yards away. And he can be generous. A few years ago, Snyder scored an advance copy of Star Trek and hosted Donovan’s family at his home theater. The Snyders greeted their guests wearing pointy ears made from aluminum foil. “I thought, If people could see this,” Donovan says.

–Seth Wickersham, A thin line between love and hateESPN The Magazine, October 2012

HANK WILLIAMS JR. (a.k.a. “Bocephus,” the guy who used to sing the Monday Night Football theme song; son of legendary country singer Hank Williams, father of talented country singer Shelton Hank Williams III)

As the bus rolls on, Hank-3 sets to talking about his dad. I mention that Hank Jr. wouldn’t be interviewed for this story, and Hank-3 says, yeah, well, what can you expect? Typical. He admits he got a shitty deal from Hank Jr. as a kid. Yeah, he was the dumped son. Yeah, he barely knows the guy at all. He remembers visiting with his dad once when Bocephus was on tour, back when Shelton wasn’t more than 11 years old. The wildness and thrill and terror of it. All those drugs and women everywhere. Roadies used to give Shelton “finger sips” of their drinks—letting him dip his little fingers in their bourbon and lick it off. They’d leave him in a room with a half-dressed woman and tell her to “let the kid have some fun.” He remembers another time, when arrangements were made for him to meet his father at some airport for a brief once-a-year rendezvous and “I made my mom stop to buy me a cowboy hat so he would be proud of me, and just that one stop made us ten minutes late. So he was already gone by the time I showed up. And then I was left to cry all day about it.” He remembers asking his dad for a new material possession only once—a new drum set. Hank Jr. said, “Geez, son, I don’t know. That sounds pretty expensive.” And this, Shelton says, “from a guy who was making $80,000 a night in concessions alone!”

All of which makes it even stranger that the position Shelton Hank Williams always takes with his father in the end is that of defensive linebacker.

Conceding his own sadness at not having a dad to speak of, he then steps up to defend Hank Jr.’s character. (“Think of how hard it was for him to grow up under that shadow!”) He defends Hank Jr.’s music. (“He can play every instrument on that stage, and he’s a great performer.”) He even defends Hank Jr.’s decision to cut baby Shelton out of his existence. (“How could he know how to treat me? He never had a father. And with me being the kid of the divorce, he’s always bound to have some resentment about me.”)

Such a weird, sympathetic stance. But if you take a closer look at Hank Jr., you’ll see that he is the person here most in need of a sympathetic perspective. Consider the difficulty of his situation. He spends his life struggling to create a self-identity in country music despite having a father whose discography is the very King James Bible of country music. He finally gets out from under his daddy’s firm thumb by becoming his own musician. OK, so he’s no Hillbilly Shakespeare, but he is the crown prince of beer-swilling redneck anthems and he is his own man at last. But no sooner does Hank Jr. get himself all commercially successful and separated from the original icon than this abandoned son of his shows up on the music scene, looking and sounding just like the old man, and creates a phenomenally good debut album. And every serious music critic in the country suddenly starts saying, “Look like talent skips a generation.” What an unexpected blow. What a cruel double-whammy ego slam. You’re pretty good boy. But you’re not as good as your daddy.

Oh, and by the way—you’re not as good as your son, either.

–Elizabeth Gilbert, The Ghost, GQ, December 2000

Hello & Welcome

I'm a 36-year-old journalist and a 2014-15 Knight-Wallace Fellow at the University of Michigan. I've written about science, sports, and culture for a number of different magazines, and I've published two books with Crown, part of Random House. The books are Ingenious and Horsemen of the Esophagus. Some of my clips are linked below.

Shorter Clips

The Sloppy Hi-Fi of John Vanderslice
New Yorker, September 2014

The Construction of a Twitter Aesthetic
New Yorker, February 2014

Walter Robert Keller, 1953-2014
Philadelphia, February 2014

The Influence of High Times Magazine
The New Republic, November 2013

A New Weapon in the War on Ticks
New Yorker, August 2013

Neil Freeman's Alternative Geography
New Yorker, March 2013

There's Gold in that Scrap
New York Times Magazine, August 2011

Longer Clips

Ladies and Gentlemen... Martha Graham Cracker!
Philadelphia, September 2014

How a Squad of Ex-Cops Fights Police Abuses
Mother Jones, August 2014

Grief in the Age of Paranoia
Philadelphia, July 2014

The Secret to Getting Top-Secret Secrets
Matter, June 2014

A Type House Divided
New York, June 2014

Grantland, March 2014

The Lost Boy
Philadelphia, March 2014

The Willy Wonka of Pot
Grantland, October 2013

Patient No. 7
Philadelphia, August 2013

How Grandmaster Susan Polgar Became America's Top College Chess Coach
Wired, February 2013

Fergie Carey Would Like to Make a Wee Toast
Philadelphia, January 2013

How Nerf Became the World's Best Purveyor of Big Guns for Kids
Wired, September 2012

The Death (and Life) of the Philly Weekly and the Philly City Paper
Philadelphia, June 2012

How a Reddit Comment Became a Big-Budget Flick
Wired, April 2012

Schoolly D is Living the American Dream
Philadelphia, April 2012

Bigger than Jesus
Wired, August 2011

May the Best Nerd Win
Wired, December 2010

The Man Who Duped City Hall
Philadelphia, October 2010

Big Buck Hunter
Kill Screen, Spring 2010

The Dirtiest Player
GQ, February 2010

The Videogame Programmer Saving Our 21st-Century Souls
Esquire, December 2008

Searching for Richardson Dilworth
Philadelphia, December 2008

Jerry Blavat Finds the Fountain of Youth
Philadelphia, May 2008

Horsemen of the Esophagus
The Atlantic, May 2006

The Great Gusto of Jimmy Binns
Philadelphia, February 2006

Contact me

jfagone at
gmail (PGP)

jfagone on Twitter

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