“Loud flashes of yellow are all around you in this city — 46,000 taxi sedans, vans and S.U.V.’s streaking across the streets of New York. Yet, only about 170 of them are driven by women, a percentage even lower than the national average. In all my years of hopping into cabs here, and elsewhere, I never met a female driver until I shot this documentary. I needed to find them.”

“Dear Wikipedia,

I am Philip Roth.”

I was probably 8 when I saw Mötley Crüe’s video for “Home Sweet Home” for the first time — we got cable around 1986 — but in the mid-80s MTV was playing it in heavy rotation, as they say, so I saw it a lot. And for an 8-year-old there was a lot to process, like that part in the beginning when Vince Neil kisses the crotch of a scantily clad lady on a poster. Also, the concept of the tour bus: It was clear that this was not just an ordinary bus, but rather some sort of magical, mystical lair where Adult Things went down. I did not yet know what I did not know, but I was starting to get an inkling. The video shows the band performing at an arena show in Houston, and those girls in the audience, gazing longingly up at Vince? That’s who I wanted to be, feathered hair and all. I recently read the Crüe biography The Dirt (highly recommended) and now I know that at the time the band was completely fucked up on drugs and alcohol, hooking up with groupies constantly (well, except for poor, crippled Mick Mars) and fighting with each other, but the video just seemed to portray a band at the absolute pinnacle of stardom — if one that, at least according to that familiar, slightly ominous piano solo, knew there might be trouble ahead.

This is the only version of the original video I could find. It’s the extended cut, and uncensored, which means there are a lot of breasts, and each band member is shown in his natural habitat (Vince: beach; Mick: haunted house; Nikki Sixx: bar; Tommy Lee: party), getting a phone call on a landline, presumably telling him to hurry up and make it to the show, and each one has the same response: “I’m on my way!”

Doree Shafrir is the executive editor at BuzzFeed. She still has all her mixtapes.

“Researchers at the University at Buffalo’s Research Institute on Addictions, found that watching a rerun of a favorite TV show may help restore the drive to get things done in people who have used up their reserves of willpower or self-control.”

So Amazon announced a bunch of new Kindles. What does it all mean? Find out here.

“It is a greater change than we could even imagine 20 years ago, even 10 years ago. And it has taken us by surprise and we must adjust our understanding of the system and we must adjust our science and we must adjust our feelings for the nature around us.”
 — The urgency apparent in Norwegian Polar Institute’s Dr. Kim Holman’s assessment of recent data about the melting arctic ice cap is truly terrifying. But the fact that the Institute named its icebreaker ship “Lance” makes me smile.

“Brooklyn is now the second most expensive place to live in America, according to a study from the Council for Community and Economic Research that was cited in the Brooklyn Daily Eagle. Number one, of course, is Manhattan.” [Via]

What movies are you looking forward between now and the end of Oscar nominating season? Here they all are, the movies between Lincoln, The Master, Django Unchained and Frankenweenie, the four tentpoles of the fall. (Not really kidding.) Something to keep in mind: “Does anyone weep and tremble better than Naomi Watts? No one really does.” IT IS NOT a terrible time to be alive, it turns out.

“At least two candy stores have been burglarized this summer by ravenous, drought-starved bears.”

NOVELIST SALMAN RUSHDIE DIES IN NEW YORK. No others informations.

— Sonia Gandhi (@SGandhiCongress) September 7, 2012

Told that Rushdie death tweet is fake. Apologies. #sigh

— Joshua Green (@JoshuaGreen) September 7, 2012

Today, Salman Rushdie is not dead. YET.