Last July, Timothy Burke was standing outside his sister’s apartment in Rochester, N.H., allegedly firing a pistol at the ground. Words were exchanged—a conversation of obvious interest to the assistant county attorney now prosecuting the case. Then, the 31-year-old allegedly raised his gun and shot his brother Edwin in the arm.

Solar Solace from Hammond on Vimeo.

Photo via Wikimedia Commons

Halloween is the best. And saying it's your favorite holiday isn't just shorthand for suggesting that deep inside you're some closet freak when really there's nothing there; it's also a way of saying you're onboard with little children dressing in spooky outfits to get free food. Adorable—and a pretty trenchant lesson about the power of high fashion.

There’s a lot of evil in the world, and a lot of people who could be blamed for it. Questions of what evil is, and whether one man can be said to be “more evil” than another are complicated, and considering them deeply and fully can lead us to profound realizations about morality. We went out to ask passersby who the most evil person in the world was hoping to spark some serious discussion.

The Occupy London movement, camped outside St. Paul’s Cathedral, recently removed a widely photographed protest banner that read “Capitalism Is Crisis” and replaced it with another declaring “Real Democracy Now.” This seemed like quite the ideological shift for a movement frequently criticized for not having a clear purpose. So we tracked down Spyro Van Leemnen, a spokesperson for one of the Occupy’s media working groups (aka, the PR guy) to ask him what the hell was going on.VICE: What happened to the pink and green “capitalism is crisis” sign? Spyro Van Leemnen: We decided to take it down.

Every year at Thanksgiving, Americans gather with their families, say prayers of gratitude, and fill their face holes with homemade, carb-rich comfort. Mashed potatoes, mac 'n cheese, yams: That's all pretty good stuff, right there. Then there's the turkey, which is both the centerpiece of the table and almost unquestionably the worst thing on it.

At least 15 people have died so far in a Texas superstorm that still hasn't let up more than three days after touching down. Hurricane Harvey hit the Gulf Coast Friday night with winds well over 100 mph, proceeding to ravage Houston and the surrounding area. Some weather stations recorded between 30 and 40 inches of rain, and as of Monday, the National Weather Service was still predicting the total amount could hit 50 inches.

Somewhere in your parents' basement, there's a plastic Rubbermaid bin filled with worthless plush toys that once promised riches. The Beanie Baby frenzy of the 90s spread from suburban Chicago across the United States, creating a mass speculative bubble, with sales reaching $1 billion at their peak. Ty Warner, creator of the Beanie Baby, was an "obsessive" perfectionist, slaving over the minute details of each toy even after they had gone to market.

On Monday, the Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency (DARPA), basically the US military's mad scientist division, announced it had cleared another milestone in its quest to develop self-guided bullets. The agency released footage of live-fire tests conducted earlier this year showing .50-caliber bullets making sharp turns in midair.

We all have moments in our lives that we'd rather forget. Drunken conversations with coworkers, mom walking in on you while jerking off, that summer spent reading On the Road...

Screencap via Mankato Local CBS News. Thumbnail via Flickr User Lauri Rantala

Last time I was in LA I started hearing stories about this guy named Shat. Apparently he was a relatively normal dude until he was shot in the head at a party in Hollywood. He managed to survive a bullet to the brain, but according to everyone I talked to about him, the injury left him a bit “off.” Post shooting, his brain (which still contains part of the bullet) was completely concerned with sex.

Illustrations by Jack Graydon I’ve been part of a few fads in my lifetime: Wearing Nikes, sleeping in a bed, reading The Hunger Games. I’m writing this on an Apple MacBook, I’ve driven a convertible Jeep in the sun, and I’ve eaten kettle corn out of a microwaved bag. I’ve blogged. I’ve Tweeted. I’ve worked 50 or more hours a week for months on end.

This picture got emailed to us with the subject line "Man-Jewlery." Can people please stop affixing the word man- to the front of things to make them seem faggy? Mandals was (and still is) kind of funny. Man-purse was superfluous (just call it a purse and be done with it). Now you can't have a buckle on your belt without being accused of wearing baubles? Granted, this thing looks like it would crotch you something awful if you stood up from a table too fast, but still, it's a fucking belt buckle.

I've always been confused about my strongest hand. When I was knee-high to a grasshopper, I used to switch hands when writing or coloring in, when one or the other hand got tired. As a grew older I realized I was left-handed when I was writing but had an ambidextrous hangover because my stronger side was always my right.

Back in 2012, Harlem-based designer Rio Uribe was still just toying with fashion. Up until that point, he'd had fun making prom dresses for the girls at his high school and rocking some of his own unique creations, but he never imagined he'd rise so quickly to become the force behind a nationally recognized brand that wins prestigious industry awards and presents at fashion week.

John Darnielle, professional novelist and Mountain Goats founder, misses moshing. "I haven't been in a mosh pit in years. I miss it.

My first winter living in Winnipeg was the city's coldest since 1898. I spent three months of it holed up in a small bachelor suite without any heat, hot water, light or internet.Books were read by literal candlelight. Laundry was washed in the bathtub using a homemade soap mix of borax, bar soap and washing soda, later to be dried on towels that were draped on the floor.

Since 2009, Haruhiko "Photographer Hal" Kawaguchi has made a career out of asking couples he doesn't know to come home and get in the bag. Not many people could pull something like that off, but the Tokyo native is something special—his series Flesh Love and Zatsuran are globally lauded for their claustrophobic depictions of love. He's also (hysterically) sponsored by Condomania.

Listen we've all been 14, we've all watched Donnie Darko, we've all thought that bit where Drew Barrymore really slowly writes 'CELLAR DOOR' on a blackboard is really important, we all think linguistic beauty is a deeply underrated art, that certain combinations of words and phrases can tickle the synapses in so satisfying a way, that they can ding like a bell, pull you in on a heartstring and yank you back out again with a snap, we all know this, we know.

For the last few months, I've been getting letters from a guy who claims God is telling him to write to me. And that God would also very much like it if I would send him some money so that he can forward it on up to heaven. He's sent me about six or seven, one every few weeks.

Dimethyltryptamine is so hot right now. Ever since Enter the Void and DMT: The Spirit Molecule showed up on Netflix Instant, kids have been going gaga over this technology from another dimension.

Usually, when you're offered an insight into the working environment of a musician, you end up surveying some "cosy" Peckham loft space, or descending an icy stairwell into an unwelcoming Berlin basement. Visiting Marcus Lambkin––better known as producer, DJ and DFA staple Shit Robot––is rather different. Lambkin resides in Stuttgart, not known as a party capital, and a city where most electronic experimentation is focused on manufacturing kitchen appliances.

Bad news, folks: After jamming for more than two decades, it looks like the band is breaking up.

  Last winter, the sausage-curling rerelease of Band Aid’s “Do They Know It’s Christmas” raised millions of dollars for charity while also perpetuating the ignorance of the song’s original lyrics. Sorry, Sir Bob, but Africa isn’t a land where “nothing ever grows” and “no rain nor river flows.” Maybe what Bono doesn’t realize is that belting out groaners such as “tonight thank God it’s them instead of you” is a tad patronizing—but we do.

This past year has been kind to cannabis. Bar the bi-monthly scare stories from Britain's gutter press, Western media seems to have had a sudden change of heart when it comes to weed. Gone are the claims that one toke will turn you into a paranoid spree killer; in are reports on the plant's medicinal benefits - how its cannabinoids (a set of chemical compounds active in cannabis) can be utilised to treat or alleviate the symptoms of ailments from ​epilepsy to ​cancer..

Yesterday, Supreme released one of their always highly-anticipated artist T-shirts, which this season features Gucci Mane wearing a Supreme box logo shirt and a sort of red sweater thing on his head. As always, there was a huge queue outside the London store, full of people eager to get their hands on the tee before it makes its way onto eBay for triple the price.

Together with donating your sperm and pharmaceutical trials, selling your hair online is one of the easiest ways to make money without working. Wigmakers, high-end "doll artists," and hair fetishists are willing to pay over a thousand dollars a head for top-quality product.

In sixth grade, my best friend and I each paid $3 to a woman wearing a size-too-small horse sweatshirt for palm readings at the state fair. She ran her long, fake fingernails along the lines of my palm, informing me I loved music and would marry a man in uniform. My mother later scoffed at this news, asking, "Who doesn't love music?"

2014 is slowly turning into the "Year of San Francisco." The East Coast media in America has anointed SF as the new hub for innovation, conspicuous consumption, and comically absurd rents. New York Magazineparachuted a bunch of reporters into the Bay Area to figure out how to steal their douchebags back. The article asked "Is San Francisco New York?" No, it's much worse.

Hotline, a new ​​Kickstarter-funded documentary, profiles hotline operators of all stripes. It takes on suicide hotlines, the Psychic Friends Network, phone-sex lines, and people who telephonically pray for you, all linked together by the theme of the need humans have to connect with one another.

Ant Smith, singing about his baby dick. Photo courtesy of Ant Smith

For women, the hardest part about starting a new office gig isn't waiting around for IT to debug a new email server. It's waiting the socially acceptable week or so before you can put in a request for a space heater and start burrowing under ugly blanket sweatshirts at your desk. Most offices—especially in the summer months when the AC is on blast—feel like a meatpacker to women.

One or two minutes. That's all the time you'll have from your fire alarm sounding to when your life is in serious danger. You might think the flames will get you but it's the smoke that can kill you in seconds.

Greg Palast est un auteur à succès qui bosse pour le New York Times et un journaliste d’investigation intrépide dont les reportages ont été diffusés dans l’émission Newsnight sur la BBC et dans le Guardian. Palast mange les riches et les recrache. Jetez un œil sur ses reportages et ses films sur son site web www.GregPalast.com, où vous pouvez aussi lui envoyer en toute sécurité des documents libellés « confidentiel ».

This article was originally published on VICE Australia.

The file on the conference room table at the Droit Devant legal clinic is about six inches thick, brimming with hundreds of sheets of paper. They are all fines, dating back over a decade, and represent a $110,000 [$81,000 USD] worth of legal woes for one homeless man.

I know it’s like “a thing” for girls to fall in love with gay guys, but it had never happened to me until I learned about Cole Escola. I think I saw Cole’s picture for the first time in some Time Out NY article, and my first thoughts were a jumbled mess of “He’s cute! I want to look like him! He reminds me of a scented eraser I’d be tempted to obsessively sniff and then bite chunks out of! I want to see his penis!” Sometimes my sexual impulses have no rhyme or reason.

Earlier this week we released a video about a goon factory. We enjoyed bringing it to you, and you seemed to enjoy watching. So in the spirit of milking everything you enjoy, we asked our bartender friend Eliza Hinds to show us how to make goon cocktails. She told us that goon cocktails don't exist, so we told her to invent some, so she did. And they're not actually that bad, some of them.

Photo courtesy of Richard Siemion

Matias Aguayo Louderbach AM/PM This column is called Electric Independence because by and large it’s all about electronic music, most of which is released on small and not-so-small independent labels. If you’re into the stuff that’s written about here then you probably like to think of yourself as someone who’s independent and open-minded and doesn’t follow the crowd, which you undoubtedly are. Hopefully you find what’s written here informative and useful.

The following correspondence is from a manuscript of emails titled "Letters of Interest," by Fred Sasaki. Subjects arise from spam and angst, anger and absurdity, frustration and fuckall—Eros and Thanatos from inbox to inbox. Enter to witness non-consensual collaborative narrative.

The chief of Nepal's mountaineering association has spoken out against all the human waste littering the world's largest mountain, the Guardian reported today. Camps along the climb up Everest have tents for sleeping, but the higher stops do not have proper toilet tents—hikers often just slip away and dig a hole in the snow instead of packing out your waste. With 700 or more hikers and guides scaling Everest annually, those poop holes start adding up.

"We're not a melting pot—we're a cultural mosaic!" is one of the most common things any kid growing up in Canada will have pounded into his or her brain from a young age. We are a diverse country, we're told. We are accepting of all cultures, religions, and political ideologies (*cough*). Truly, you can go to most major cities in Canada and find a significant portion of the population wasn't born in this country.

Guitar music, despite my best efforts, isn't dead. It never has been. I'm 75 percent sure it never will be. But, dear god, the planet loves to worry about it. And I guess that's why, over the last few years, you've read dozens of articles centred around words such as: "guitar", "is", "isn't" "alive", "dead", "future", "music", "saviours" and "back".

David Lynch speaking at the Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts. All photos by the author

There's nothing glorious about childhood. People like to talk about it like there is, but there isn't. In fact, in my opinion, childhoods exist solely to provide a few years for people to make mistakes in. And that's the opposite of glorious.

Photos of Mount Carmel today by Matt Rainwaters

There will be no charges or fines issued against Imperial Metals as a result of the catastrophic failure of its tailings dam at the Mount Polley gold and copper mine last summer, according to Al Hoffman, the BC's chief inspector of mines.

About three months ago a guy we'll call Michael was prescribed a stimulant medication for his ADHD. He takes it three times a week, on and off, and he gets the bugs. They appear when he stays still for too long or is exposed to heavy light and sound. He knows they're not real, but the only thing he can do is try to ignore them.

So every once in a while I get the urge to update my office supplies and it gets really boring always having to resort to the same old.. navy blue stapler, crap pencil, pink eraser. You know, like... regular office tools. Anyways, I figured out it works pretty well to impress girls with like cute office supplies that look like animals. It shows that you're serious (ie. supplies) and still cool and happening (animals).

Mark McCloud has about 30,000 tabs of LSD. He collects them, frames them, and catalogues them in his San Francisco home, which is why Mark gets periodically arrested by the DEA. Most of the tabs are now too old to send anyone on any kind of trip, but they sure look cool in his Victorian row house.

What is it? Don't really know how to even begin to describe it, but, uh, OK. Right: you know when that goth kid at your school got mad at his parents and went to live in their outhouse for the whole of sixth form? They were middle class so they had an outhouse. I'm pretty sure his mum had a couple of horses.

Dr. Halbert L. Dunn, father of the "wellness movement," defined it as "an integrated method of functioning, which is oriented toward maximizing the potential of which the individual is capable." I am not the industry's ideal consumer.

Even if you’ve never heard of the author Alan Dean Foster you definitely know the titles of his works: Alien, Aliens, Alien 3, Transformers, Star Wars, The Thing and many other novelisations of films. Over the past four decades, he has successfully reverse-engineered more than 30 movies based on original scripts into book form, making him the most prolific sci-fi noveliser of all time. And given the recent trend of studios forgoing the commission of novelisations, he may never have a successor..

A federal judge ruled Wednesday that the Dakota Access Pipeline (DAPL) may continue to operate, keeping the oil flowing while the government completes a court-ordered environmental review. The highly anticipated decision is a win for Energy Transfer Partners (ETP), the company that runs the pipeline, and a significant blow to the Standing Rock Sioux, who had hopes that the judge might have shut down the pipeline until the review could be complete.

All images courtesy of the artist

Markeisha Fowlkes needed a car so she could drive a bus. 

On Tuesday, President Donald Trump signed an executive order meant to roll back many of the environmental achievements of the Obama administration. It's called "President Trump's Energy Independence Policy" according to a White House news release, but it's not too clear what makes it "independent." It's basically Trump's way of showing that he doesn't care about climate change. The substance of the order strips emissions regulations from power plants, lifts a ban on new coal mining on federal land, and instructs the government not to consider the climate when it makes decisions.

When Martin Scorsese released his 2001 documentary series My Voyage To Italy, it was a hell of an eye-opener. One of cinema’s greatest ever filmmakers talking about his love for Italian cinema with unpretentious passion and genuine excitement. Those of us used to the dullness of academia, of po-faced film critics who say “juxtaposition” a lot, and arthouse enthusiasts who wielded their knowledge of foreign film like a weapon at the less-educated masses, were shocked.

You may recognise Bertie from her other column, Pretty Girl Bullshit. Do not be alarmed – PGB still exists! You don't cancel magic. But now she's going to be writing a slightly more fashion-centric column for us called Beauty School Dropout. This – in case you can't read, and if you can't then how the hell did you get to this website, sterling effort, really – is that.

One of my favorite things to do in the whole wide world (in jail, at least) is to fuck rubber gloves. I call my rubber glove/artificial vagina “Suzy” (in some circles, it’s called “Fifi”) and she loves me ‘cause I give her me bone sweet ‘n’ tender long time. Yeah.

It's 6AM and I'm about to drive a hundred miles down a French motorway to spend the day with naked strangers. Creeping out of my guesthouse in an idyllic Pyrenean town, I've forfeited my breakfast croissant in the hope I'll make it Cap D'Agde – the world's biggest nudist town – by lunch.

So for a while now there has been this looming smell in the VICE UK office, over the editorial desk. Office smells, especially in summer and early summer climates, are a hard subject to broach with your colleagues, because initially when you notice the smell a small part of you suspects it might be you, or related to something you did.

There's a special kind of reaction to dudes with inked eyeballs—it's what Vancouver tattoo and body modification artist Russ Foxx calls "shock and awe." Though the (still experimental) practice of injecting pigment into the whites of people's eyes has been around for nearly a decade, it's still considered one of the last frontiers of tattooing.

We all have habits that we find difficult to stop. Some of us chew the ends off pens, others spend real human money on Candy Crush. Neither of those are great, but at least they're relatively harmless. Some of us, however, aren't so lucky; some of us bite our nails to the point that the skin on each finger is always in a state of bleeding or scabbing over, and each nail is only a millimetre long.

Cloud Nine, a kind of e-cigarette liquid that people have been using to get high, is the latest nightmare drug making the rounds, in the process getting a bunch of TV news reporters extremely excited. A recent NBC Nightly News episode called Cloud Nine "legal, unregulated, and readily available at convenience stores" while informing viewers that the drug has sent almost two dozen young people to the hospital in Michigan.

If Irvin Rosenfeld had to guess, he'd say he's smoked about 135,000 joints since 1982—roughly ten a day, every day, for 34 years.

Alex Fine and Janet Lieberman are two New York-based female entrepreneurs who are passionate about sex and not afraid to say it. Together, they launched the company

In the early-2000s, mobile manufacturers tried to make handsets as small as possible. In the 2010s, smartphones were sold on how big their screens were. In 2016, the tide might now be turning once again: Apple's newest phone model, the iPhone SE, boasts a relatively minuscule 4-inch screen. But Apple have some distance to go before they can match the Zanco Fly.

High cigarette taxes in New York City feed the black market on the street. Photo via Flickr user David Tan

Whether it's in the morning eating toast, at work on my lunch break, or at night, when I'm unable to sleep and I spoon peanut butter from the jar like the disgusting mouth breather I am, you can guarantee I'll be hypnotized by what some 17-year-old who still lives at home and is studying for her college entrance exams has consumed that day. I spend too much time watching YouTube videos about vegan food. Like, every fucking day.

Last month, I found myself among hundreds of awkward teenagers in a large auditorium in Cincinnati. If all were to go as planned, not a single soul in attendance would end up having sex before marriage. The Silver Ring Thing, an organization dedicated to duping kids into buying purity rings, is like the Cirque du Soleil of Christian teen abstinence programs.

It's Friday night, the pub's just closed and you're back at someone's flat, five pints deep with a blue bag of tins in your hand. "Is anyone gonna put the call in?" grins one of your friends.

In fact, even The Circle Game has earned its place in the history books.

The recurring nightmares began when Dr. Glen Just was five years old. Every night, soldiers would capture him, drag him onto a submarine, and drill a hole into his back as he screamed.

You might have seen the announcement of the Vega+ a few weeks ago. If not, it's a handheld ZX Spectrum, basically, allowing you to relive the glory days of 1980s gaming with about a thousand pre-loaded, gaudily coloured and once-slow-loading games you half-remember from when you were probably a barely developed foetus. At the time of writing, the Vega+ has more than tripled its Indiegogo target of £100,000 – people really want this thing in their lives.

Pokémon remains the greatest thing that could have possibly happened to 11-year-old me. It started, as so many important stories of youth and young boyhood do, with competitive collectible trading cards. One day they just appeared overnight: boys with backpacks would huddle around in schoolyard groups, skimming through their own decks, swapping, skimming again, holding their prized shinies aloft in special little protective baggies, the prized trades, swapping again, constantly, huge decks, two or three hundred cards, this thing I'd never heard of.

Charles Eugster is the greatest British sprinter you've probably never heard of. He currently holds world records in the 200m (indoor) and 400m (outdoor) sprints, as well as British records in the 60m (indoor), 100m (outdoor), and 200m (outdoor). A couple of weeks ago, he narrowly missed out on the world record for the 60m sprint after pulling his hamstring halfway through.

In fact, even The Circle Game has earned its place in the history books.

Early in Lemonade, Beyoncé's much-anticipated new visual album that premiered Saturday as a secretive HBO special, we are shown a row of regal women perched on a rustic porch à la 1991's Daughters of the Dust. "I tried to make a home out of you," the singer laments in a quiet voiceover, "but doors lead to trap doors." The reference—autobiographical or not—to her much-publicized marriage to rapper mogul Jay Z sets up the film/album's powerfully realized themes of marital betrayal, rocky relationships, and triumphant rebirth.

This story appeared in the February Issue of VICE magazine. Click HERE to subscribe.

Current methods for improving your mood are wildly inefficient. Recreational drugs can make you crazy, pharmaceuticals can erase your personality and damage your organs. Sugar and alcohol make you fat and depressed. Caffeine stresses you out, and cigarettes fill your lungs with death. We don't welcome these side effects, but we deal with them because these substances have the potential to alter our emotional thermostat.

Howdy! I've been sending all these "naive" pitches to one of the Viceland blog editors and she keeps shooting them down. Apparently I'm "extroverted and well-intentioned yet oblivious to the extent of, well, my naivete." WTF? I went drinking with my girlfriend and one of her girlfriends (Now, let me clarify that the second girlfriend mention is in the platonic, gal pal sense). We went to some place called the Trophy Bar.

The low point of Thursday night's Republican debate came when Donald Trump held up his hands. Marco Rubio, Trump said, "hit my hands. Nobody has ever hit my hands. I have never heard of this. Look at those hands. Are they small hands?" While the crowd laughed, Trump went on: "He referred to my hands, if they are small, something else must be small. I guarantee you there is no problem. I guarantee."

When the Saudi Arabian government posted an ad on its civil service jobs portal looking to hire eight new executioners last year, the world got an interesting glimpse into the Gulf monarchy's HR process. The new recruits will be operating in a country that is going through a death-penalty boom right now, with 85 people executed so far this year, as opposed to 88 in all of 2014, as the Guardian reported.

Question Mark & the Mysterians, photo via. Artwork by Brian Walsby Bobby Balderrama is a wonderful guy who started one of the greatest punk bands ever: Question Mark & the Mysterians, otherwise known as the humans who wrote and performed “96 Tears” back in 1966. The piercing organ riff, bare-bones vocal track, and low-fidelity production make it a safe candidate for first punk rock song ever.

There are already five handguns on the table when 20-year-old Mukunda Angulo reaches into his duffel bag full of props and pulled out another.

C. Spencer Yeh is a funny guy from Taiwan who plays violin and was christened with a stage name. He’s also responsible for Burning Star Core, an instrumental "project” that sometimes involves other people and sometimes is just him purling into a microphone that’s plugged into a delay pedal while a keyboard plunks over a racket that could very well be someone throwing a toaster in a bathtub filled with drowning baby opossums.

A$AP FERGTrap Lord Self-released A$AP Ferg used to be a fashion student. Then he dropped out of shirt-and-pants school to become a rap man who sounds like a gigantic, adorable bear. It’s usually a bad idea to sound like you’d rather be rummaging around garbage or eating seals or getting your hairy fist stuck in a honey pot, but A$AP Ferg is hilarious and these beats rock harder than a grizzly slashing through your camper top to tear your throat out.

At most house parties, someone will get drunk and nostalgic enough to press play on "Brown Sugar." Exactly 1:40 through the song, just as the sax-solo kicks in, at least two people at that party will decide to have sex with each other. Bobby Keys played that solo. If you were one of those sexy people, you have him to thank.

I've already talked with you people about the scope of this column. For the umpteenth time, the Brutality Report is not just about death pits and existential beatdowns. There are just as many brutalities in one's day to day humiliations.

Read: Someone Mailed Mysterious White Powder to a Muslim Advocacy Group

This story appears in VICE magazine and Noisey's 2017 Music Issue. Click HERE to subscribe to VICE magazine.

A red, crying lady picked me up at the Austin airport. We were looking for the Baptizer who had flown in from somewhere else for the Sux by festival, too. He does Christian power electronics; I believe he is against abortion.

The British class system is still in full effect. Maybe it seemed like it went away for a while, but if bedroom tax and this Daily Mail cover prove anything, it's that the chasms between the haves, the haven't very muches and the haven't got a sink to piss ins have been leveraged open like old scars with Oxbridge boat race oars. You couldn't imagine Britain without its archaic, embarrassing fixation on class.

At the Tenth Annual Border Security Expo in San Antonio, Texas, officials from the Department of Homeland Security browsed booths with 3D holographic images, portable biometric testing kits, underground seismic signal detectors, and ergonomic pistols, eyeing the latest inventions to survey and protect the United States' border.