Subjected to the light of day, Sarah Palin doesn't look like a maverick at all.
Exposing a construction-site scam only a San Francisco cop could love.
Ronald Taylor is one of perhaps hundreds of innocent people Harris County has put in prison.
Sloppy U.S. government paperwork is putting the lives of asylum seekers at risk.
With her 2003 debut The Soul Sessions, Joss Stone rode the neo-soul revival wave like a long-funk-fed veteran, not a sixteen-year-old British neophyte. With last year's Introducing Joss Stone she tried to say goodbye to all that choreographed revivalism. She sounds a little more samplified, a little more turntabled, a little more reliant on modern R&B values of stacked vocal choruses, cuddly vocal cues and cameos by Common. Mostly, Stone sounds like herself: a soul moaner with a deep throat of gold and an insatiable rhythmic instinct. Dance floor killers like "Put Your Hands On Me" meet breathy sex-you-up-and-downs like "Tell Me What We're Gonna Do Now" and it all sounds too, too hot. One almost forgets that as a songwriter, she's an irresistibly powerful singer.