Thanks to fracking and other injection processes, small earthquakes are the new normal in the American interior. That poses another, more ominous question. What does the Big One look like in Oklahoma?
Elmer McCurdy lived his life with one foot in the grave. A schemer and heavy drinker, he saw himself as an outlaw. Problem was, he kept botching the job. A train robbery in 1911 went up in smoke after Elmer applied too much nitro to the safe—destroying the strongbox and the loot.
When Oklahoma declared a “war on obesity,” it planned to change the city’s infrastructure and encourage healthy living at a huge scale. So far its population has lost a million pounds of fat—but is that enough to defeat obesity?
The bare-bones facts would be disturbing enough on their own: in June 1977, three Girl Scouts—ages 8, 9, and 10—sharing the most remote tent at summer camp were found raped and brutally murdered. It’s the stuff of nightmares and horror movies. But the story got even worse.
To be clear: the ex-girlfriend of Shaynna Sims’ boyfriend was already dead from natural causes. But that didn’t stop the Tulsa, Okla. resident from paying the deceased a funeral-home visit, where it’s alleged that she slashed the woman’s face from hairline to nose, cut her hair, and chopped off a toe and a breast.
Tomorrow, when the Supreme Court hears oral arguments in the highest-profile death penalty challenge in seven years, the justices will begin ruling on this question: Does Oklahoma’s use of the common surgical sedative midazolam fail to make prisoners unconscious during lethal injections, thus violating the Eighth…
The marijuana economy in California, battling obesity in Oklahoma City, the real underground in London, plus buildings that used to be Pizza Huts, and much more, all in this week's urban reads.
We know that at least one person has been hit by space junk. Her name is Lottie Williams and she was hit by a piece of a Delta II rocket that fell to earth in 1997.
A 25-year-old Oklahoma man climbed a Clear Channel radio tower to avoid being captured by security guards who spotted him in a restricted area. Not the brightest move, but he did evade his pursuers for six days.
Wayne Coyne, frontman of the acclaimed rock band The Flaming Lips, recently renovated his Oklahoma compound, and the new space gives the group's music a run for its money in terms of psychedelic flair, playful construction, and sheer imagination.