As per our promise, we just posted four more eXile issues from way back when. Check ‘em out below or go to the eXile Classics pages for a up-to-date listing. We’ll be updating it weekly.

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Issue #4, April 1, 1997 — The eXile starts with the telephone pranks. First victim: German embassy. Topic: rumored buy-back of Kaliningrad for a few black Mercs. Limonov calls Solzhenitsyn a sell out. (more…)

The eXile: Sex, Drugs and Libel in the New Russia

By Mark Ames and Matt Taibbi

Yea, the Lord has heard thine prayers, and He, in His infinite Sadism, has answered thee: back on sale, newly printed up, is the record of The eXile’s early beginnings. It’s The eXile: Sex, Drugs and Libel in the New Russia (Grove), first published in 2000. Click the cover to order it through amazon, or order buy it from your favorite overpriced neighborhood bookseller. (more…)

Do you still crave the perennial favorites you’ve come to know and love and worship from the original eXile site but find yourself unable to leave the comfy confines of The eXiled? Well, we’d like to help. (more…)

The eXiled Coat of Arms Is Back With A Vengeance

One month ago, our newspaper The eXile got stomped into extinction by some ham-fisted Russian government officials, who decided that since there’s a new president in the Kremlin who’s talking up some nonsense about a new “liberal era,” what better way to show your boss that you understand what he means by “liberal”—with a big wink-wink—than to shut down the only good thing that Russia (more…)

They’re looking for us!

As you know, we’ve been fucked over for good in Russia. “Why they done gone ‘n do that?” you ask in your innocent/retarded Deliverance way? Well, we’re too busy hiding from the FSB (more…)

EXILED ONLINE POWER SEARCH: Search everything eXile from one easy location!

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I’ll write stories that will make them come from the ends of the earth to kill me… then at last it will be over, and that’ll be fine with me.
- Celine

I have a contract out on me. Not an employment contract with all kinds of expat benefits and a $3000 apartment-but the other kind of contract. The bad kind of contract.

At first I was told that “they,” or rather a “she” and a “he,” wanted to have me killed. Then my sentence was reduced to having my legs broken. Not as in, “Break a leg, Mark! Good luck with your new ‘paper.” But as in, “I’m a-gonna break yo’ fuckin legs!” She can have it arranged, as she let one too many persons know. See, she’s in the real estate business, which in Moscow means, flat-head central. (more…)

A British expat goes down to the local kiosk to buy himself a pack of cigarettes, and notices a street bum begging for money. He hands the bum 3000 rubles, gets his cigarettes, then leaves. The next morning, passing the kiosk on his way to work, he sees the same bum and gives him another 3000 rubles. The bum thanks him, leans closer, then asks him earnestly, “Is there anyone you want me to kill?” (more…)

This is the cover of The eXile Issue #1, published in February 1997.

The Victim
Where are your greatest dangers?-in pity.
- Nietzsche

I did everything I could to avoid her. She’d been leaving message after desperate-rape-victim-voice message on my answering machine. What could I say? You were your own worst enemy, Marina. You let your old boyfriend screw you over time and time again, and you never learned. You had your chance to sell Living Here, and you balked. I couldn’t think of anything nice or comforting to say, and since I never disliked her, I thought it was best to avoid it all. Finally, about a week and a half ago, I caved. I agreed to meet my former LH boss, Marina Psch-, at Sally O’Brien’s for a drink. I guess I owed it to her to tell her in person why I, and the staff, all left Living Here. She broke into tears several times, which, I have to admit, gave me a lump in my throat. It’s why I hate talking to people. There’s no winning with humans-it’s a lose-lose situation, every time: either humiliation or pain, no in- (more…)