In TerrorStorm: A History of Government Sponsored Terrorism, a 2006 documentary reissued with new footage last month on DVD, we watch a pudgy, gravelly-voiced Dallas native named Alex Jones travel to the United Kingdom to try to prove that the July 2005 London terrorist bombings were secretly carried out by the British government.

It was the fourth and final hour of The Alex Jones Show, the most popular conspiracy talk radio program in the country, and everybody in the Austin studio was getting a little weary. As they do six days a week, Jones and his four young producers were simultaneously turning out a nationally syndicated live radio show, a streaming webcast, and a Web television broadcast.

THE RAILBIRDS AT THE STONELEIGH bar keep asking the man on the corner stool what retirement is like. "Like a steam bath," Blackie Sherrod grumbles, copping a line from his final column in the Dallas Morning News, which ran just after the first of the year. "Once you get used to it, it's not so hot." Blackie is sporting a faded denim jacket and a week's growth of whiskers, and his hair, long ago frosted over with silver, is combed back and curling up his neck.

Strange as it may seem, it's almost a shame Larry L. King, who died Thursday in Washington, D.C., is known primarily for The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas. Don't get me wrong. His original 1974 Playboy article [SFW] of that title is a tremendous read.

Twitter user Abraham Riesman found himself with a lot more than usual to handle Tuesday because of—well—his handle. The New York journalist and producer discovered that his Twitter feed appeared next to a KHOU story about a convicted rapist by the name of Abraham Joseph.

The Internet has claimed another Texas food critic: the Houston Chronicle's Alison Cook, who had remained officially anonymous—if often recognized by restaurant insiders—during an approximately thirty-year career that has also included stints with the Houston Press and Texas Monthly.

Three years ago, when I took over Texas Monthly from the previous editor in chief, I elected not to mark the occasion with the sort of sweeping changes that often accompany a shift at the top of the masthead. Some new hires were made, some small adjustments here and there, but by and large the design of the magazine remained the same, as did the writers, the regular features, and the style of the covers.

This is a story about a kid who liked to draw. He’s twelve years old and killing time at the Callahan County courthouse, in Baird, where his mom is the secretary for the district attorney. After football practice, he waits for her there before they head back to the ranch ten miles southeast of town. He’s grown up on the ranch. That’s where he learned to draw, filling up empty hours with a pencil and paper, sketching cowboys and Indians, spaceships and sharks, looking for things to copy out of his granddad’s magazine collection.

On her new album ...Little Broken Hearts, folk singer and Texas sweetheart Norah Jones strikes a significantly darker tone than on her previous work. On the murder ballad "Miriam," perhaps the darkest of all the tracks, she describes killing her lover's mistress. As of this Wednesday, "Miriam" has an equally eerie video to match.

Posting will be light at the TM Daily Post this week, as several key members of our team are taking some much needed time off.