The High Line—the railroad-track park running through Manhattan's meatpacking district—will soon be more than a place for rich people fundraisers and ill-placed weddings. The Whitney museum is coming! As soon as they can raise half a billion bucks.

Maybe you've heard of Etsy, the uber-twee site allowing "creative" types to sell their "arts and crafts" "wares." Imagine shopping at Michael's on crack. Regretsy, which finds the most insane things on Etsy, is like shopping Michael's on acid.

Larry Gagosian's new "art store" (or museum gift shop on steroids) debuted last night. Looking to treat yourself to a Marc Newson marble credenza ($375,000); Richard Prince "Nurse Hat Chair" ($175,000); or Jeff Koons-designed puppy-shaped vase ($7,500)? Look no further! [WSJ]

The White House has released a list of 45 paintings it has borrowed from local museums to hang in the Obamas' private residence. Among them is Ed Ruscha's "I Think I'll...." How's that decision about Afghanistan coming, Mr. President?

Tar magazine was an experiment to answer the timeless question: If you put some celebrities' kids together with a bunch of random art world names, will you make a super successful magazine? No, you won't. Live and learn.

Yesterday we brought you the ridic story of the purported "Rape Tunnel," where Rape Artist "Richard Whitehurst" would rape anyone daring to crawl through. Alas, it was just another art hoax. Our field trip is canceled.

Richard Whitehurst is an artist in Columbus, Ohio. He's building a big wooden tunnel, and if you crawl through it, he will rape you [Update: Or will he??].

As you all know, we've just concluded the opening weekend of Tucker Max's film debut, "Alcohol and Poop Go Together Like Whores and EZ Cheez." How grand a mark has it made on cinema history? Let's go to the scorecards!

We really can't imagine why, but Bernie Madoff's old assistant, Eleanor Squillari, has decided to auction off a portrait of Madoff that the fraudster gave her as a gift back in the late '80s. (Squillari mentioned the photo in the June issue of Vanity Fair: "Once, he gave me a picture of him taken by Karsh, the famous Canadian photographer, saying, 'Here, hang this over your bed.'") It's estimated to sell for between $3,000-$5,000. But hurry up! Bidding ends tomorrow. [Artnet via Dealbreaker]

BIG HOLLYWOOD investigative reporter Patrick Courrielche asks: "Should the National Endowment for the Arts encourage artists to create art on issues being vehemently debated nationally?" Well, yes.

The Mad AssHatter Himself, Tucker Max, went to war with Chicago's Transit System over a series of advertisements for his film, I Hope They Serve Rosé On Fire Island, or whatever it's called. Guess who won?

Big Trouble in West L.A: Ten Andy Warhol paintings depicting athletes were cat burgled from the house of rich L.A. businessman and art collector Richard Weisman. Involved are a housekeeper/nanny, an anonymous $1M reward, and 70s model Cheryl Tiegs. What?

Nearly bankrupt photographer Annie Leibovitz has received an extension from the high-class pawnbroker to whom she owes $24 million —Art Capital Group has dropped their lawsuit against her and refinanced her debt to keep her out of bankruptcy.

The Way We Live Now: Always forgetting. We're back into stocks! We're back to buying art! We're...poor! Statistics prove it. But we already forgot. Live it up, for tomorrow you may die of something weird.

The annual pilgrimage of Bay Area pyromaniacs to a Nevada desert playa is over; now comes the inevitable Burning Man hangover, in which participants and haters alike bemoan the bacchanal's worst excesses.

Matt Drudge is playing up Andrew Breitbart's latest Obama conspiracy theory—that he is enlisting the aid of the all-powerful visual arts cartel in support of healthcare reform. How long before artist thugs are dragging conservatives from their homes?

Art auctions are doing alright, but the gallery market is still "fragile." [NYT]

It's been a few weeks since downtown artist Dash Snow died of a heroin overdose. But photographer Ryan McGinley is now speaking out about the death of his close friend. In the new issue of Vice, he recounts some of the great times they shared over the years, like "sniffing coke off toilet seats [and] doing bumps off each other's fists" in "the bathroom of every bar below 14th Street." Oh, and how Snow and one of his other friends would get wasted and have fun at the expense of homeless people:

Pigeons might not be able to tell you what good art is, but they do know it when they see it, according to a Japanese psychologist who trains avian critics.

Happy 25th anniversary of coked-out young dudes writing novels about being coked-out young dudes! To celebrate, Random House is finally updating the cover of Bright Lights, Big City.