BE SILENT NO MORE

I have allowed a handful of anonymous people censor me. They have forced me, out of fear, into seeing myself a potential victim. And that makes me loathe not THEM, but MYSELF. So I write this to urge any person, male or female, who now has the impulse to do what I did, to walk away from something they loved before, to NOT. Don’t let other people drive you away from gaming.

TERROR UP NORTH

Canada is no stranger to terrorism, having endured the kidnappings of government officials by radical domestic terrorists known as the Front de liberation du Quebec in 1970, during what was known as the October Crisis. Mass shootings are also not unprecedented, having happened at Ecole Polytechnique in 1989 and at Dawson College in 2006. But never before has an attack so brazenly targeted Canadian institutions in the nation's capital.

'SO WHAT HAVE YOU BEEN DOING?'

Smart editors have a knack for calling bullshit on bullshit, and Bradlee was a pro at that. He had called bullshit on Richard Nixon several times, and he had even called bullshit on himself after the paper published a series of prize-winning stories that had been fabricated by its reporter, Janet Cooke; the Post’s apology was complete, and its internal investigation, which criticized Bradlee, was blunt. On this late November afternoon, Bradlee was calling bullshit on me.

VIEW FROM A CENTERFOLD

There is a lot of talk of ever-more-microgenerational differences these days, but if you want to get down to the brass tacks of it, the American population can more or less be divided into two groups: those who snuck their first illicit looks at flesh-for-the-ogling in print, and those of us who had the bawdy cornucopia of the internet for such endeavors.

SORRY THEY'RE NOT SORRY

Gawker is rarely perfect, but it strives to be honest and fearless. For us to have apologized for a joke — to have even clarified — in the face of such breathtaking cynicism and dishonesty, from both "ad partners" and the enemies who leverage those brands' fearfulness to silence opposing voices, feels like an utter abdication of those responsibilities. Frankly, that sucks. If anyone is owed an apology, it's our readers. So: Sorry.

ART FOR THE REICH'S SAKE

For several years in the late 1930s and early 1940s, during the summer months, Adolf Hitler’s Third Reich held what came to be known as “A Day of German Art,” conceived as a kind of Aryan-inflected kickoff for the annual Great German Art Exhibition in Munich. Paintings, sculpture and spectacle combined to celebrate a strenuously Nazified vision of Teutonic culture — one in which German legends and myths were bent to the service (and the aesthetic) of the Reich.

ADMINISTRATION NOW A BUNCH OF (TAR) HEELS

A blistering report into an academic fraud scandal at the University of North Carolina released Wednesday found that for nearly two decades two employees in the African and Afro-American Studies department ran a “shadow curriculum” of hundreds of fake classes that never met but for which students, many of them Tar Heels athletes, routinely received A’s and B’s.

CHARLIE BROWN IS SOBBING

It's easy to make jokes about the Great Pumpkin Riot of 2014. Events in Keene, New Hampshire this past weekend read like an Onion article: The annual Pumpkin Festival in the sleepy college town ended with riot cops and tear gas as young people flipped cars and started fires in the street. But there's good reason to take the riot seriously.

GLAD WE DON'T HAVE COMMENTS

Even if you’re only a casual internet user, chances are that by now you’ve probably heard something about the movement known as Gamergate. If you’re unfamiliar with what Gamergate is, we’ve taken the liberty of writing up a brief summary of the movement and its goals, which we will immediately change if anything in it offends anyone who associates with Gamergate.

'RAP'S FIRST AND ONLY FEMALE MOGUL'

She's done with the pink hair, and the bonkers outfits, and at least a few of the alter egos. Nicki Minaj is now in her world-conqueror phase — her new album, following two platinum-sellers, is immodestly titled "The Pinkprint" — and she's got a new message to go with it: This isn't all about butts anymore. Except for when it absolutely, positively is.