Posted inOpinion

Love Thy Biker

So far in my experience, I have concluded that the Universe runs on Love. Who knows how many people would say that they have had that same experience? However, I feel that many people would say that the thought of the Universe running on Love makes them feel good.

Posted inOpinion

Tune Out China

Letter of the Week

With all the talk of a coming out party at the Beijing Games, China has a miserable record on human rights and the IOC has done little to pressure China into meaningful reforms. The week's LOW asks that the viewers make a statement by choosing to tune out the Beijing Games.

Posted inCulture

Hit the Ground

Thirty years ago, Japanese novelist Haruki Murakami owned a jazz club in Tokyo. It was a tiny place. During the day, he served coffee; at night, the club became a bar. Murakami closed up himself, arriving home as the yolk-y sun was rising in the sky. It had never occurred to him to do anything else, let alone write fiction. And then, it did.

This charming, sober little book tells the story of how, shortly after Murakami embarked on a career as a novelist, he was blindsided by an even unlikelier idea: to go for a run. One can understand his surprise. At the time, he was smoking 60 cigarettes a day. He had never been an athlete. But he was a solitary person, and before long, he was hooked.

Runners will find a kindred soul on these pages. Here is everyman, hitting the pavement, falling into that peculiar mental void that opens up on a long jog. He endures the indignities of the sport, too. Completing his first marathon in Greece in midsummer, his sweat dries so fast, it leaves behind smears of salt. "When I lick my lips," he writes, "they taste like anchovy paste."

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