Longreads

Some insight into the workings of the newly-opened Associated Press bureau in North Korea:

"North Korea remains the world's most opaque country, in part because of the difficulty foreign journalists have working there. "It's unique in having walled itself off for so long," says Mike Chinoy, a former senior Asia correspondent for CNN who has visited North Korea 15 times. "Therefore the mere fact of a decision [to allow the opening of a bureau] must have been taken at a very high level, and to me that is very encouraging."

"AP's investment in opening a bureau in North Korea might ultimately pay off in having people in place if the country collapses. Beck thinks AP's motivation is the same as that of any foreign company trying to operate in North Korea. "First movers have the advantage," he says. (Daniszewski responds, "We don't predict events, but it's always better to have someone there to witness whatever should happen in the country.") When crisis hits North Korea, AP has "a foot in the door, so to say, and that is good," says Lankov. "But simply don't expect muckraking reports about Kim's family finances or interviews with closet dissenters."

It's a glorious thing, hearing Eddie Murphy say "fuck" again. Few people ever said it better – and down here in the basement of the stone-and-marble mansion he built on a Beverly Hills cliff, it's coming from his lips often enough to make Shrek blush. "Come on, motherfucker," Murphy shouts, over the throb of James Brown's "Hot Pants" on a formidable sound system.

The motherfucker in question is a bowling ball, which is speeding down the center of one of the two polished lanes of the alley Murphy keeps here, along with an arcade full of video games and a blue-lit "club room," inspired by a similar space in his new friend Brett Ratner's house. Hanging in a corner, above an electric keyboard, is Ernie Barnes' iconic painting Sugar Shack – as seen on the cover of Marvin Gaye's I Want You and in the opening credits of Good Times. It is, of course, the original.

I got off the plane around midnight and no one spoke as I crossed the dark runway to the terminal. The air was thick and hot, like wandering into a steam bath. Inside, people hugged each other and shook hands...big grins and a whoop here and there: "By God! You old bastard! Good to see you, boy! Damn good...and I mean it!"