newyorker--2020-07-13--Is Working with the Lincoln Project Sleeping with the Enemy?

One night in 1984 , when Heath Eiden was sixteen , he found himself at the Hotel Meridien in San Francisco , in the campaign suite of Walter Mondale .
This was during the Democratic National Convention .
Consultants and congressmen milled around , wreathed in cigar smoke .
Eiden , then a high-school junior from Minneapolis , was there with Mondale ’ s son Ted , as a volunteer .
He was next to Mondale when the candidate took a call from Lane Kirkland , the head of the A.F.L.-C.I.O .
( “ You got it , Fritz ” @ @ @ @ @ @ @ room that he ’ d won enough delegates to secure the nomination .
Eiden was bewitched .
“ The spirit left the road and jumped up into me , ” he recalled .
“ Fritz Mondale , the last honest politician : he actually said , ‘ Yeah , I ’ m going to raise your taxes.
’ ” After Reagan beat Mondale that year in a landslide ( Mondale won just one state : Minnesota ) , Eiden , an early adept with his school ’ s Sony Betacam 1800 , got @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
( It led to his short film , “ Triumph Over Tragedy : The Humphrey-Mondale Tradition , ” which is archived at the Minnesota Historical Society . )
Eiden had TV-news aspirations , but before long disillusionment over sensationalism and dishonesty in the media soured him on it all .
His last-ditch attempt was a documentary , in 2004 , of another doomed White House bid , called “ Dean and Me : Lessons from an American Primary , ” which failed to change the world or to make him rich .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ , who now lives in Stowe , Vermont , and works as a video producer , got a call from Stuart Stevens , the political consultant , who also has a house in Stowe .
Stevens has advised five Republican Presidential candidates , including George W. Bush and Mitt Romney , but has recently abandoned the Party , in the belief that it has abandoned him .
( His eighth book , to be published next month , is called “ It Was All a Lie : How the Republican Party Became Donald @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , “ The Party always had a dark side .
We thought it was a recessive gene , but it turned out to be the dominant gene .
I feel like a sucker.
” ) Stevens was calling on behalf of the Lincoln Project , the confederation of G.O.P .
apostates who , appalled by Trump , had formed a political-action committee to defeat him .
The Lincoln Project had been producing sharply negative TV ads about Trump , which have run mostly in Washington , D.C. , mainly to needle their subject @ @ @ @ @ @ @ sass and their source , almost always go viral on social media .
Stevens wanted Eiden to shoot the Lincoln Project ’ s new spot .
This one would feature an emergency-room doctor down the road , in South Burlington , named Dan Barkhuff , a former Navy Seal and a graduate of the Naval Academy and of Harvard Medical School , who had started an organization called Veterans for Responsible Leadership .
The occasion was the news that the President had ignored intelligence reports that a Russian military unit had been paying @ @ @ @ @ @ @ of American soldiers in Afghanistan .
Eiden was torn .
On the one hand , work was scarce during the pandemic , and , of course , he abhorred Trump and had been frustrated by the Democrats ’ failure to hit back .
But , as a dyed-in-the-down Minnesota liberal , he had misgivings about working with what he called “ the dark side ” —some of the Republican operatives who , by way of rough tactics , had engineered the demise of so many of his favored candidates through the years .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ pertained .
The previous week , he ’ d driven to Minneapolis with his teen-age son , to pay their respects ( and shoot some footage ) at the memorial for George Floyd .
That experience , plus a few days in the suburbs among Covid truthers , and an encounter with a waiter making an “ I can ’ t breathe ” joke , had only quickened his revulsion .
“ If it takes working with Republicans to get this fucker out of the White House , fine , ” he said @ @ @ @ @ @ @ you want ?
” Eiden asked Stevens .
“ I knew exactly what I ’ d found myself in the middle of , ” Eiden recalled .
Eiden and Barkhuff met up at Stevens ’ s house .
The Lincoln Project had sent a script , by a screenwriter of the HBO series “ Band of Brothers , ” but Barkhuff ditched it for one of his own .
Identifying himself as “ a pro-life gun-owning combat veteran , ” he said into the camera , “ Any Commander-in-Chief with a spine would @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Russians right now , diplomatically , economically , or , if necessary , with the sort of asymmetric warfare they ’ re using to send our kids home in body bags .
Mr. Trump , you ’ re either a coward who can ’ t stand up to an ex-K.G.B .
goon or you ’ re complicit .
Which is it ?
” Afterward , Eiden went home and uploaded the footage .
An editor named Joey , in Denver , put it together overnight .
The following afternoon , Stevens noted that @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ” had been viewed online more than six million times .
To what end , time will tell .
♦

One night in 1984, when Heath Eiden was sixteen, he found himself at the Hotel Meridien in San Francisco, in the campaign suite of Walter Mondale. This was during the Democratic National Convention. Consultants and congressmen milled around, wreathed in cigar smoke. Eiden, then a high-school junior from Minneapolis, was there with Mondale’s son Ted, as a volunteer. He was next to Mondale when the candidate took a call from Lane Kirkland, the head of the A.F.L.-C.I.O. (“You got it, Fritz”), and then announced to the room that he’d won enough delegates to secure the nomination. Eiden was bewitched. “The spirit left the road and jumped up into me,” he recalled. “Fritz Mondale, the last honest politician: he actually said, ‘Yeah, I’m going to raise your taxes.’ ”
After Reagan beat Mondale that year in a landslide (Mondale won just one state: Minnesota), Eiden, an early adept with his school’s Sony Betacam 1800, got the first on-camera interview with the loser. (It led to his short film, “Triumph Over Tragedy: The Humphrey-Mondale Tradition,” which is archived at the Minnesota Historical Society.) Eiden had TV-news aspirations, but before long disillusionment over sensationalism and dishonesty in the media soured him on it all. His last-ditch attempt was a documentary, in 2004, of another doomed White House bid, called “Dean and Me: Lessons from an American Primary,” which failed to change the world or to make him rich.
A couple of weeks ago, Eiden, who now lives in Stowe, Vermont, and works as a video producer, got a call from Stuart Stevens, the political consultant, who also has a house in Stowe. Stevens has advised five Republican Presidential candidates, including George W. Bush and Mitt Romney, but has recently abandoned the Party, in the belief that it has abandoned him. (His eighth book, to be published next month, is called “It Was All a Lie: How the Republican Party Became Donald Trump.” Last week, he said, “The Party always had a dark side. We thought it was a recessive gene, but it turned out to be the dominant gene. I feel like a sucker.”)
Stevens was calling on behalf of the Lincoln Project, the confederation of G.O.P. apostates who, appalled by Trump, had formed a political-action committee to defeat him. The Lincoln Project had been producing sharply negative TV ads about Trump, which have run mostly in Washington, D.C., mainly to needle their subject, but which, because of their sass and their source, almost always go viral on social media.
Stevens wanted Eiden to shoot the Lincoln Project’s new spot. This one would feature an emergency-room doctor down the road, in South Burlington, named Dan Barkhuff, a former Navy Seal and a graduate of the Naval Academy and of Harvard Medical School, who had started an organization called Veterans for Responsible Leadership. The occasion was the news that the President had ignored intelligence reports that a Russian military unit had been paying bounties to the Taliban for the killing of American soldiers in Afghanistan.
Eiden was torn. On the one hand, work was scarce during the pandemic, and, of course, he abhorred Trump and had been frustrated by the Democrats’ failure to hit back. But, as a dyed-in-the-down Minnesota liberal, he had misgivings about working with what he called “the dark side”—some of the Republican operatives who, by way of rough tactics, had engineered the demise of so many of his favored candidates through the years. Ultimately, though, the enemy-of-my-enemy principle pertained.
The previous week, he’d driven to Minneapolis with his teen-age son, to pay their respects (and shoot some footage) at the memorial for George Floyd. That experience, plus a few days in the suburbs among Covid truthers, and an encounter with a waiter making an “I can’t breathe” joke, had only quickened his revulsion. “If it takes working with Republicans to get this fucker out of the White House, fine,” he said.
“What kind of style do you want?” Eiden asked Stevens.
“Think Swift Boat,” Stevens replied.
“I knew exactly what I’d found myself in the middle of,” Eiden recalled.
Eiden and Barkhuff met up at Stevens’s house. The Lincoln Project had sent a script, by a screenwriter of the HBO series “Band of Brothers,” but Barkhuff ditched it for one of his own. Identifying himself as “a pro-life gun-owning combat veteran,” he said into the camera, “Any Commander-in-Chief with a spine would be stomping the shit out of some Russians right now, diplomatically, economically, or, if necessary, with the sort of asymmetric warfare they’re using to send our kids home in body bags. Mr. Trump, you’re either a coward who can’t stand up to an ex-K.G.B. goon or you’re complicit. Which is it?”
Afterward, Eiden went home and uploaded the footage. An editor named Joey, in Denver, put it together overnight. The following afternoon, Stevens noted that the spot, called “Betrayed,” had been viewed online more than six million times. To what end, time will tell. ♦


The Mail

Reading Luke Mogelson ’ s impeccably reported account of the Minneapolis protests following George Floyd ’ s death was cathartic ( “ The Uprising , ” June 22nd ) .
I ’ m a reporter for WCCO-TV , the CBS station in Minneapolis , and was there with Mogelson during many of the events that occurred in the Third and Fifth Precincts .
His piece crystallized for me , a white man , the “ fundamentally unknowable ” fear that Black protesters have of law enforcement .
I will always remember the officer in riot gear who sprinted toward my @ @ @ @ @ @ @ screaming repeatedly , “ Get the fuck back !
” After we turned a corner in a frightened retreat , the officer pursued us down half a block , and I wondered why he couldn ’ t treat us like human beings .
Mogelson makes clear that what I felt in that moment was what some Black protesters say they feel every time they see an officer .
Several people I met during my reporting told me that they wouldn ’ t consider it a loss to abolish the police , because they @ @ @ @ @ @ @ by law enforcement in the first place .
Paul Elie ’ s commentary on the extent to which Flannery O ’ Connor was racist suggests that Angela Alaimo O ’ Donnell , in her new study of the author and race , “ backdates O ’ Connor as a writer of her time when she was a near-contemporary of writers typically seen as writers of our time ” ( A Critic at Large , June 22nd ) .
As proof , Elie calls up five writers whose birth dates correspond to O ’ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Guin , Wolfe , and Walcott—implying , with some finger-wagging , that O ’ Connor , by comparison , was incapable of thinking outside of her time and place .
But O ’ Connor died in 1964 , at age thirty-nine , and the writers whom Elie cites all lived until the twenty-tens .
We can not know how O ’ Connor ’ s ideas might have evolved as she witnessed events—like the election of a Black President—that a white woman living in the rural South in the nineteen-fifties would not have perceived @ @ @ @ @ @ @ too soon .
Jill Lepore , in her survey of U.S. commissions appointed to investigate race riots , says that they allow governments to “ appear to be doing something ” about racial injustice “ while actually doing nothing ” ( “ The Riot Report , ” June 22nd ) .
This may be true , but for me , as a young white journalist covering civil-rights protests in the nineteen-sixties , the Johnson Administration ’ s Kerner Commission made a profound and lasting impression , especially in its recommendation to improve newsroom @ @ @ @ @ @ @ news editor of the Rapid City Journal , I hired Tim Giago , South Dakota ’ s first Native American newsperson .
He later left to start his own weekly , the Lakota Times , with his then wife , Doris , on the Pine Ridge reservation .
Tim trained others who went on to found their own Native newspapers , and Doris became the first Indian journalism professor at South Dakota State University .
In 1990 , in response to Tim ’ s proposal to rename Columbus Day , the state became @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ’ Day .
In that part of the country , the Kerner Commission report is not a forgotten document—it was a pebble dropped in a still lake .
The ripples are spreading today .
Letters should be sent with the writer ’ s name , address , and daytime phone number via e-mail to themail @ newyorker.com .
Letters may be edited for length and clarity , and may be published in any medium .
We regret that owing to the volume of correspondence we can not reply to every letter .

Covering Minneapolis
Reading Luke Mogelson’s impeccably reported account of the Minneapolis protests following George Floyd’s death was cathartic (“The Uprising,” June 22nd). I’m a reporter for WCCO-TV, the CBS station in Minneapolis, and was there with Mogelson during many of the events that occurred in the Third and Fifth Precincts. His piece crystallized for me, a white man, the “fundamentally unknowable” fear that Black protesters have of law enforcement. I will always remember the officer in riot gear who sprinted toward my photographer and me, rifle pointed, screaming repeatedly, “Get the fuck back!” After we turned a corner in a frightened retreat, the officer pursued us down half a block, and I wondered why he couldn’t treat us like human beings. Mogelson makes clear that what I felt in that moment was what some Black protesters say they feel every time they see an officer. Several people I met during my reporting told me that they wouldn’t consider it a loss to abolish the police, because they’ve never felt protected or served by law enforcement in the first place.
David Schuman
Minneapolis, Minn.
Mid-Century Myths
Paul Elie’s commentary on the extent to which Flannery O’Connor was racist suggests that Angela Alaimo O’Donnell, in her new study of the author and race, “backdates O’Connor as a writer of her time when she was a near-contemporary of writers typically seen as writers of our time” (A Critic at Large, June 22nd). As proof, Elie calls up five writers whose birth dates correspond to O’Connor’s—Márquez, Angelou, Le Guin, Wolfe, and Walcott—implying, with some finger-wagging, that O’Connor, by comparison, was incapable of thinking outside of her time and place. But O’Connor died in 1964, at age thirty-nine, and the writers whom Elie cites all lived until the twenty-tens. We cannot know how O’Connor’s ideas might have evolved as she witnessed events—like the election of a Black President—that a white woman living in the rural South in the nineteen-fifties would not have perceived as possible. O’Connor died too soon.
Margaret Earley Whitt
Professor Emerita
Department of English
University of Denver
Denver, Colo.
After the Race Riots
Jill Lepore, in her survey of U.S. commissions appointed to investigate race riots, says that they allow governments to “appear to be doing something” about racial injustice “while actually doing nothing” (“The Riot Report,” June 22nd). This may be true, but for me, as a young white journalist covering civil-rights protests in the nineteen-sixties, the Johnson Administration’s Kerner Commission made a profound and lasting impression, especially in its recommendation to improve newsroom diversity. In 1979, as the news editor of the Rapid City Journal, I hired Tim Giago, South Dakota’s first Native American newsperson. He later left to start his own weekly, the Lakota Times, with his then wife, Doris, on the Pine Ridge reservation. Tim trained others who went on to found their own Native newspapers, and Doris became the first Indian journalism professor at South Dakota State University. In 1990, in response to Tim’s proposal to rename Columbus Day, the state became the first to officially celebrate Native Americans’ Day. In that part of the country, the Kerner Commission report is not a forgotten document—it was a pebble dropped in a still lake. The ripples are spreading today.
Jim Carrier
Burlington, Vt.
•
Letters should be sent with the writer’s name, address, and daytime phone number via e-mail to themail@newyorker.com. Letters may be edited for length and clarity, and may be published in any medium. We regret that owing to the volume of correspondence we cannot reply to every letter.


newyorker--2020-07-13--Slide Show: New Yorker Cartoons July 20, 2020

“ I just think things will work out for the best , and by the best I mean me .
@

“I just think things will work out for the best, and by the best I mean me.”
Cartoon by Barbara Smaller


newyorker--2020-07-13--Jarvis Cocker Asks, “Must I Evolve?”

Jarvis Cocker Asks, “Must I Evolve?”

Like human artistic expression itself , “ Beyond the Pale , ” the new album from the British pop musician Jarvis Cocker—formerly of Pulp , currently of a group called Jarv Is—has origins in a cave .
“ I ’ m a bit obsessed with caves , ” Cocker said in February , in Manhattan .
Cocker , who grew up in Sheffield , in the North of England , is tall and thin , with glasses .
He speaks in a gentle baritone , with a Northern accent , in tones of mild amusement .
On a walk through @ @ @ @ @ @ @ with a frisson of “ Clan of the Cave Bear ” chic .
“ This is actually what they make Steiff Teddy bears out of , ” he said , extending a sleeve .
Two songs on “ Beyond the Pale ” arose from a Jarv Is performance in a cave and concert venue called Peak Cavern , in Derbyshire , U.K. ; a new video features Jarv Is back in the cave , in early July , with a socially distanced band and no audience .
As strobe lights illuminate the craggy @ @ @ @ @ @ @ arm-intensive vamping .
“ Must I evolve ?
” he sings .
“ Yes , yes , yes , ” the band responds .
In the nineties , after having performed with Pulp for more than a decade , Cocker became a Britpop icon , owing in part to the band ’ s song “ Common People , ” the rare hit single about being on the receiving end of sexual slumming in art school .
( “ She came from Greece , she had a thirst for knowledge .
.
.
.
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ contributed to Wes Anderson movies , collaborated with Chilly Gonzales on a concept album about Chateau Marmont , edited books for Faber , and hosted BBC radio shows .
Last year , after the Conservative election rout , his 2006 single “ Running the World , ” a catchy , vulgar eff-you to politicians and the free market , nearly topped the U.K. singles chart .
“ I was quite touched by that , ” he said .
On the new Jarv Is album , out this week but recorded pre-Covid , Cocker @ @ @ @ @ @ @ here to tell you / Do something new / Or do something else ” ) ; and , in “ House Music All Night Long , ” singing of being “ adrift in a world of interiors ” and of “ one nation under a roof , ” he seems to anticipate self-quarantine .
“ Goddamn this claustrophobia / ’ cuz I should be disrobin ’ ya , ” he sings .
In SoHo , Cocker searched for his destination .
“ I think it ’ s above a pizza place , ” @ @ @ @ @ @ @ He was buzzed into the Dream House , La Monte Young and Marian Zazeela ’ s venerable light-and-sound installation , in a third-floor walkup space , which he first visited years ago , with Pulp .
He climbed the stairs and headed toward a loud hum .
“ It stays with you , ” he said .
“ And it led me to explore and appreciate minimalist music , and get a lot from it .
You get into sound as something in itself—the physicality of the sound.
” An attendant collected ten @ @ @ @ @ @ @ shoes , which he did .
“ No holes in the socks , ” he said , looking pleased , and went in .
The space was dark , buzzing with an electronic droning that sounded like an emergency-alert signal crossed with a dial tone .
Cocker walked down a dim hallway into the cavelike main room , where an ancient-Mayan-looking head was projected onto the wall in magenta light .
The room smelled of incense ; pillows dotted the floor .
Cocker sat , extending a leg .
“ If you move @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , ” he said .
“ When you interact with it , it becomes very playful.
” He sat , listening .
“ I imagine this would be a good place to come and do meditation , ” he said .
“ I like the idea of trying to still your mind.
” Dancing can still the mind , too : “ Dancing , you will feel self-conscious when you first start trying to do it .
But , if you persevere , you react in time to the music , and your @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , he embraces a similar in-the-zone-spontaneity ; the basic arrangements came from live performances , he said , because “ everybody gets too self-conscious when they go in the studio.
” Not so in the cavern .
Cocker ’ s interest in caves intensified about a decade ago .
“ I was trying to entertain my son one weekend , up north , ” he said .
“ We went to Creswell Crags , a Paleolithic settlement .
There ’ s a carving of a horse ’ s head , and some of @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
It moved me , the thought of somebody back in the mists of time carving something on the wall.
” In the gift shop , he bought a book called “ The Mind in the Cave.
” “ I started to think of a relationship as the story of evolution of life on earth , ” he said .
On the album , Cocker ’ s narrative point of view encompasses all of human history ; its themes include extinction , evolution , fighting the power , saving the whale , temptation @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
“ Must I Evolve ?
” starts out sparely , gaining speed and instrumentation as Cocker sings about the big bang , cells , and primordial soup ; it becomes hypnotically danceable , as if gathering ecstatic resolve , around the discovery of fire .
“ It hasn ’ t really got a dénouement , which is kind of good , ” he said .
“ Evolution never stops , does it ?
” ♦

Jarvis Cocker Illustration by João Fazenda
Like human artistic expression itself, “Beyond the Pale,” the new album from the British pop musician Jarvis Cocker—formerly of Pulp, currently of a group called Jarv Is—has origins in a cave. “I’m a bit obsessed with caves,” Cocker said in February, in Manhattan. Cocker, who grew up in Sheffield, in the North of England, is tall and thin, with glasses. He speaks in a gentle baritone, with a Northern accent, in tones of mild amusement. On a walk through SoHo, he wore an alpaca coat with a frisson of “Clan of the Cave Bear” chic. “This is actually what they make Steiff Teddy bears out of,” he said, extending a sleeve. Two songs on “Beyond the Pale” arose from a Jarv Is performance in a cave and concert venue called Peak Cavern, in Derbyshire, U.K.; a new video features Jarv Is back in the cave, in early July, with a socially distanced band and no audience. As strobe lights illuminate the craggy walls, Cocker dances, with characteristic arm-intensive vamping. “Must I evolve?” he sings. “Yes, yes, yes,” the band responds.
In the nineties, after having performed with Pulp for more than a decade, Cocker became a Britpop icon, owing in part to the band’s song “Common People,” the rare hit single about being on the receiving end of sexual slumming in art school. (“She came from Greece, she had a thirst for knowledge. . . .”) More recently, Cocker has contributed to Wes Anderson movies, collaborated with Chilly Gonzales on a concept album about Chateau Marmont, edited books for Faber, and hosted BBC radio shows. Last year, after the Conservative election rout, his 2006 single “Running the World,” a catchy, vulgar eff-you to politicians and the free market, nearly topped the U.K. singles chart. “I was quite touched by that,” he said. On the new Jarv Is album, out this week but recorded pre-Covid, Cocker ponders maturity (“Your children are here to tell you / Do something new / Or do something else”); and, in “House Music All Night Long,” singing of being “adrift in a world of interiors” and of “one nation under a roof,” he seems to anticipate self-quarantine. “Goddamn this claustrophobia / ’cuz I should be disrobin’ ya,” he sings.
In SoHo, Cocker searched for his destination. “I think it’s above a pizza place,” he said. “Ah!” He was buzzed into the Dream House, La Monte Young and Marian Zazeela’s venerable light-and-sound installation, in a third-floor walkup space, which he first visited years ago, with Pulp. He climbed the stairs and headed toward a loud hum. “It stays with you,” he said. “And it led me to explore and appreciate minimalist music, and get a lot from it. You get into sound as something in itself—the physicality of the sound.” An attendant collected ten dollars and asked Cocker to remove his shoes, which he did. “No holes in the socks,” he said, looking pleased, and went in.
The space was dark, buzzing with an electronic droning that sounded like an emergency-alert signal crossed with a dial tone. Cocker walked down a dim hallway into the cavelike main room, where an ancient-Mayan-looking head was projected onto the wall in magenta light. The room smelled of incense; pillows dotted the floor. Cocker sat, extending a leg. “If you move your head slightly, the sound changes,” he said. “When you interact with it, it becomes very playful.” He sat, listening. “I imagine this would be a good place to come and do meditation,” he said. “I like the idea of trying to still your mind.” Dancing can still the mind, too: “Dancing, you will feel self-conscious when you first start trying to do it. But, if you persevere, you react in time to the music, and your brain switches off.” With Jarv Is, he embraces a similar in-the-zone-spontaneity; the basic arrangements came from live performances, he said, because “everybody gets too self-conscious when they go in the studio.” Not so in the cavern.
Cocker’s interest in caves intensified about a decade ago. “I was trying to entertain my son one weekend, up north,” he said. “We went to Creswell Crags, a Paleolithic settlement. There’s a carving of a horse’s head, and some of the only cave art in the U.K. It moved me, the thought of somebody back in the mists of time carving something on the wall.” In the gift shop, he bought a book called “The Mind in the Cave.” “I started to think of a relationship as the story of evolution of life on earth,” he said. On the album, Cocker’s narrative point of view encompasses all of human history; its themes include extinction, evolution, fighting the power, saving the whale, temptation, gentrification, pharaohs, and lust. “Must I Evolve?” starts out sparely, gaining speed and instrumentation as Cocker sings about the big bang, cells, and primordial soup; it becomes hypnotically danceable, as if gathering ecstatic resolve, around the discovery of fire. “It hasn’t really got a dénouement, which is kind of good,” he said. “Evolution never stops, does it?” ♦


newyorker--2020-07-13--The Slob-Chic Style of the Coronavirus Pandemic

With so many people homebound these past few months , indoors has become the new outdoors .
It is where you exercise , digitally chat with friends , and , of course , work .
But it is also still the indoors , where you sleep , eat , and putter .
This can make for frequent wardrobe changes .
Or you can give up and wear the same shredded sweatpants day after day .
In April , a Florida circuit judge named Dennis Bailey sent a letter to local lawyers about proper attire during Zoom court hearings .
“ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ inappropriately on camera , ” he wrote .
“ We ’ ve seen many lawyers in casual shirts and blouses , with no concern for ill-grooming , in bedrooms with the master bed in the background , etc .
One male lawyer appeared shirtless and one female attorney appeared still in bed , still under the covers .
So , please , if you don ’ t mind , let ’ s treat court hearings as court hearings.
” Parts of the country are slowly reopening , but for many of us our @ @ @ @ @ @ @ I think unrepentant sloppiness is the new fashion-forward , ” Robert Kraft , a record producer and songwriter , told me .
Kraft , who lives in Los Angeles , keeps a Brooks Brothers button-down shirt on the back of his desk chair for Zoom meetings but otherwise dresses in Adidas sweatpants , an R.B.G .
or Steely Dan T-shirt , and a baseball cap .
Gena Feith , an artist in Washington , D.C. , said , “ If I put on non-pajamas , I feel a heightened sense of accomplishment , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ” ( The biographer is known for wearing a jacket and tie to work alone in his personal office . )
Polly McCall , a psychotherapist , thinks that there ’ s a psychological component to our slobbiness .
“ People are relishing the feeling that they are getting away with something , ” she said .
“ We ’ re conducting business and making money , but—ha ha !
—we ’ re in our pajamas.
” Recent retail-sales data reflect a world where there ’ s nobody to dress up for except @ @ @ @ @ @ @ sales fell seventy-nine per cent , the largest decline since records have been kept .
But tracksuit purchases were up seventy per cent , and sweatpants eighty per cent .
Sales of pajamas rose a hundred and forty-three per cent .
Evidently , pants are cancelled ( unless they come with an elastic waistband ) .
Their sales declined thirteen per cent .
The new focus is above the waist .
Now that so many items in our closets are taking early retirement , what should we put on when our Webcams are @ @ @ @ @ @ @ thirty-five or so people working from home .
For those who ’ ve never bought clothes online—a cohort that might consist solely of my ninety-three-year-old mother and Kimmy Schmidt—check the specifics of the return policy : it is easy to arrange for a refund or an exchange from most companies nowadays , but some third-party sellers and eBay and Etsy venders operate on a buyers-keepers system .
Let ’ s start with pajama pants , which may be the closest that clothing gets to comfort food .
Introduced to Europeans in the nineteenth @ @ @ @ @ @ @ and the Middle East , these loose trousers with drawstrings , meant for lazing around in , were initially worn in the West only by men .
Perhaps because pants were associated with the suffrage movement , many women stuck to the custom of wearing undergarments , nightgowns , or day clothes to bed .
Both sexes sometimes wore nightshirts , which the writer Lawrence Langner , in his book “ The Importance of Wearing Clothes , ” describes as “ a bulky shapeless shirt hanging from the neck like a deflated balloon.
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ getting into pajamas , too , a revolutionary change often attributed to Coco Chanel , who , the legend goes , started the trend at the end of the First World War , by strolling along the Riviera in her “ beach pyjamas , ” bell-bottoms so amply cut they looked like billowing sails .
Pajama scholars place this historic promenade anywhere from 1918 to 1922 , and within a few years fashionable women were lounging around on yachts and in boudoirs in their slacks of silk , cotton , or crêpe de @ @ @ @ @ @ @ in the resort town of Juan-les-Pins that it became known as Pyjamaland .
Having started outside and migrated inside , pajamas today straddle the public and the private , and can be androgynous , come-hither , prim , or the kind of garb that Peter Pan ’ s Lost Boys might wear .
“ Many days , I ’ ll change out of my sleeping pajamas into my awake pajamas , ” Anna del Gaizo , a writer in Los Angeles , told me .
Instead of popping an Ambien , try the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
They have minimal adornment and are made of silky mercerized cotton that ’ s so soft you ’ ll dream you ’ re a marshmallow .
They aren ’ t cheap , but they last for years .
I like the model somewhat mysteriously named Moments Crop , whose three-quarter sleeves and pedal-pusher legs are trimmed with a hint of lace that even the Shakers wouldn ’ t kick out of bed ( $ 198 ) .
Want to save the planet while going ( masked ) to the grocery store ?
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ We Are HAH , in West Hollywood , come in collages of flamboyant florals and stripes and are recycled from the plastic bottles that you conscientiously didn ’ t buy in Aisle 3 ( $ 249 ) .
The cherry-red two-piece Daydream set from the lingerie company Skarlett Blue—a cropped tee with snug bottoms—looks like long underwear that got shrunk in the wash.
It ’ s the perfect thing to wear while watching TV or , if you are Mrs. Claus , seducing your husband ( $ 98 ) .
Women started raiding @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , the year they saw “ It Happened One Night , ” in which Claudette Colbert wears Clark Gable ’ s p.j.
’ s .
( His character had packed multiple pairs of pajamas and , apparently , only one suit , but that ’ s show biz . )
The most debonair examples , for both genders , are from the London haberdasher Budd .
The ladies ’ models have mother-of-pearl buttons , piped edges , and rounded notched collars that look like petunias , and are fashioned from a variety of @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , and cashmere , in colors that are surprising but not too surprising , like lilac and iris ( $ 356- $ 493 ) .
It ’ s not clear whether sleepwear manufacturers knew that the lockdown would coincide with the arrival of “ Tiger King ” on Netflix , but there certainly are scads of big-cat prints to choose from while lounging in front of the tube .
From the Philadelphia-based company Printfresh come poplin-cotton pajama sets onto which artisans in Jaipur , India , have silk-screened images of cheetahs lurking amid @ @ @ @ @ @ @ The British loungewear designer Olivia von Halle has many options for safari-animal prints on silk , but the one I covet is adorned with prancing zebras ( $ 480 ) .
For men who aren ’ t afraid to sleep in Freudian symbols , Desmond & Dempsey has a cotton sleep shirt decorated with coiled snakes ( $ 112 ) .
There ’ s a pajama set printed with tigers , too ( $ 219 ) .
If you are against wearing fur , even in a textile depiction , Desmond & Dempsey @ @ @ @ @ @ @ winsome green pineapple pattern ( $ 125 ) .
To hide from your roommate ’ s big cats , try Onepiece ’ s camouflage-themed hooded jumpsuit ( $ 104 ) .
It ’ s cute enough to wear while walking the dog .
Ditto the pink-and-white striped shorts from Rails , which you could also wear to your candy-striping job ( $ 168 ) .
If you want to step up your game—and take the trash out in high style—I suggest the Party Pajamas from Sleeper , a Ukrainian label that audaciously bills @ @ @ @ @ @ @ s First Walking Sleepwear.
” With a fringe of marabou feathers around the cuffs and hem , this festive ensemble of palazzo pants and draped top looks like something Doris Day would host a soirée in .
It comes in five colors , but I will let you get them only in aqua with red piping and white feathers or black with black piping and feathers ( $ 224- $ 320 ) .
It ’ s debatable whether a nightshirt is more or less schlumpy than pajamas , but it is half as @ @ @ @ @ @ @ casual in this class are the oversized T-shirts from the Brooklyn-based shop Recliner , which are comfy and loose but not so blobby that they make you look like an amoeba .
Sewn from a tissue-thin jersey blend of wood pulp and spandex that is designed to regulate body temperature and , as the company ’ s Web site puts it , “ do away with unnecessary tangling in bed ” ( finally , a problem I don ’ t have ) , they are available in mini , midi , and maxi @ @ @ @ @ @ @

With so many people homebound these past few months, indoors has become the new outdoors. It is where you exercise, digitally chat with friends, and, of course, work. But it is also still the indoors, where you sleep, eat, and putter. This can make for frequent wardrobe changes. Or you can give up and wear the same shredded sweatpants day after day. In April, a Florida circuit judge named Dennis Bailey sent a letter to local lawyers about proper attire during Zoom court hearings. “It is remarkable how many ATTORNEYS appear inappropriately on camera,” he wrote. “We’ve seen many lawyers in casual shirts and blouses, with no concern for ill-grooming, in bedrooms with the master bed in the background, etc. One male lawyer appeared shirtless and one female attorney appeared still in bed, still under the covers. So, please, if you don’t mind, let’s treat court hearings as court hearings.”
Parts of the country are slowly reopening, but for many of us our homes will still be headquarters. “I think unrepentant sloppiness is the new fashion-forward,” Robert Kraft, a record producer and songwriter, told me. Kraft, who lives in Los Angeles, keeps a Brooks Brothers button-down shirt on the back of his desk chair for Zoom meetings but otherwise dresses in Adidas sweatpants, an R.B.G. or Steely Dan T-shirt, and a baseball cap. Gena Feith, an artist in Washington, D.C., said, “If I put on non-pajamas, I feel a heightened sense of accomplishment, as if I’m Robert Caro.” (The biographer is known for wearing a jacket and tie to work alone in his personal office.) Polly McCall, a psychotherapist, thinks that there’s a psychological component to our slobbiness. “People are relishing the feeling that they are getting away with something,” she said. “We’re conducting business and making money, but—ha ha!—we’re in our pajamas.”
Recent retail-sales data reflect a world where there’s nobody to dress up for except your cat. In April, clothing sales fell seventy-nine per cent, the largest decline since records have been kept. But tracksuit purchases were up seventy per cent, and sweatpants eighty per cent. Sales of pajamas rose a hundred and forty-three per cent. Evidently, pants are cancelled (unless they come with an elastic waistband). Their sales declined thirteen per cent. The new focus is above the waist.
Now that so many items in our closets are taking early retirement, what should we put on when our Webcams are turned off? I got recommendations from thirty-five or so people working from home. For those who’ve never bought clothes online—a cohort that might consist solely of my ninety-three-year-old mother and Kimmy Schmidt—check the specifics of the return policy: it is easy to arrange for a refund or an exchange from most companies nowadays, but some third-party sellers and eBay and Etsy venders operate on a buyers-keepers system.
Let’s start with pajama pants, which may be the closest that clothing gets to comfort food. Introduced to Europeans in the nineteenth century by British colonialists returning from Asia and the Middle East, these loose trousers with drawstrings, meant for lazing around in, were initially worn in the West only by men. Perhaps because pants were associated with the suffrage movement, many women stuck to the custom of wearing undergarments, nightgowns, or day clothes to bed. Both sexes sometimes wore nightshirts, which the writer Lawrence Langner, in his book “The Importance of Wearing Clothes,” describes as “a bulky shapeless shirt hanging from the neck like a deflated balloon.” By the nineteen-twenties, women were getting into pajamas, too, a revolutionary change often attributed to Coco Chanel, who, the legend goes, started the trend at the end of the First World War, by strolling along the Riviera in her “beach pyjamas,” bell-bottoms so amply cut they looked like billowing sails. Pajama scholars place this historic promenade anywhere from 1918 to 1922, and within a few years fashionable women were lounging around on yachts and in boudoirs in their slacks of silk, cotton, or crêpe de Chine. The garments were so common in the resort town of Juan-les-Pins that it became known as Pyjamaland.
Having started outside and migrated inside, pajamas today straddle the public and the private, and can be androgynous, come-hither, prim, or the kind of garb that Peter Pan’s Lost Boys might wear. “Many days, I’ll change out of my sleeping pajamas into my awake pajamas,” Anna del Gaizo, a writer in Los Angeles, told me. Instead of popping an Ambien, try the pajamas from the hundred-and-thirty-six-year-old Swiss company Hanro. They have minimal adornment and are made of silky mercerized cotton that’s so soft you’ll dream you’re a marshmallow. They aren’t cheap, but they last for years. I like the model somewhat mysteriously named Moments Crop, whose three-quarter sleeves and pedal-pusher legs are trimmed with a hint of lace that even the Shakers wouldn’t kick out of bed ($198). Want to save the planet while going (masked) to the grocery store? Satiny unisex pajama tops and bottoms from We Are HAH, in West Hollywood, come in collages of flamboyant florals and stripes and are recycled from the plastic bottles that you conscientiously didn’t buy in Aisle 3 ($249). The cherry-red two-piece Daydream set from the lingerie company Skarlett Blue—a cropped tee with snug bottoms—looks like long underwear that got shrunk in the wash. It’s the perfect thing to wear while watching TV or, if you are Mrs. Claus, seducing your husband ($98).
Women started raiding men’s pajama drawers in 1934, the year they saw “It Happened One Night,” in which Claudette Colbert wears Clark Gable’s p.j.’s. (His character had packed multiple pairs of pajamas and, apparently, only one suit, but that’s show biz.) The most debonair examples, for both genders, are from the London haberdasher Budd. The ladies’ models have mother-of-pearl buttons, piped edges, and rounded notched collars that look like petunias, and are fashioned from a variety of fabrics, such as linen, silk, and cashmere, in colors that are surprising but not too surprising, like lilac and iris ($356-$493).
It’s not clear whether sleepwear manufacturers knew that the lockdown would coincide with the arrival of “Tiger King” on Netflix, but there certainly are scads of big-cat prints to choose from while lounging in front of the tube. From the Philadelphia-based company Printfresh come poplin-cotton pajama sets onto which artisans in Jaipur, India, have silk-screened images of cheetahs lurking amid red blossoms ($128). The British loungewear designer Olivia von Halle has many options for safari-animal prints on silk, but the one I covet is adorned with prancing zebras ($480). For men who aren’t afraid to sleep in Freudian symbols, Desmond & Dempsey has a cotton sleep shirt decorated with coiled snakes ($112). There’s a pajama set printed with tigers, too ($219). If you are against wearing fur, even in a textile depiction, Desmond & Dempsey carries a cotton camisole-and-shorts combo in a winsome green pineapple pattern ($125).
To hide from your roommate’s big cats, try Onepiece’s camouflage-themed hooded jumpsuit ($104). It’s cute enough to wear while walking the dog. Ditto the pink-and-white striped shorts from Rails, which you could also wear to your candy-striping job ($168). If you want to step up your game—and take the trash out in high style—I suggest the Party Pajamas from Sleeper, a Ukrainian label that audaciously bills its line as the “World’s First Walking Sleepwear.” With a fringe of marabou feathers around the cuffs and hem, this festive ensemble of palazzo pants and draped top looks like something Doris Day would host a soirée in. It comes in five colors, but I will let you get them only in aqua with red piping and white feathers or black with black piping and feathers ($224-$320).
It’s debatable whether a nightshirt is more or less schlumpy than pajamas, but it is half as difficult to put on. The most casual in this class are the oversized T-shirts from the Brooklyn-based shop Recliner, which are comfy and loose but not so blobby that they make you look like an amoeba. Sewn from a tissue-thin jersey blend of wood pulp and spandex that is designed to regulate body temperature and, as the company’s Web site puts it, “do away with unnecessary tangling in bed” (finally, a problem I don’t have), they are available in mini, midi, and maxi ($70-$85).
Just because you are sheltering in place doesn’t mean your nightshirt can’t face the world. The French company Kilometre.Paris turns vintage nightshirts such as you might find at a European flea market into wearable works of art, by hand-embroidering them with images from specific cities—the New York City “pyjama shirt” depicts a large Empire State Building in navy stitching, and the London example has Big Ben. On the cuffs, sewn in red, are the landmark’s geographic coördinates. The items are not cheap, but look! Some are on sale, and are still not cheap ($350-$420). If you want cheap, H & M has a nice selection of men’s and women’s pajamas—including an appealing pajama shirt and matching shorts in black viscose with a pattern of tiny white beach chairs, which could rationalize your idling away the afternoon drinking piña coladas by the sea, by which I mean the bathtub ($24.99).
Want first-class sleepwear at economy-class prices? Here’s a tip: eBay regularly lists brand-new pajamas from airline amenity kits, sold by passengers who, I’m guessing, were flying premium on the company dime and would hock a family member if there were a few bucks to be had. I spied a set from American Airlines made by the mattress company Casper ($22) and a Lufthansa cotton sleep suit from the luxury German label Van Laack ($38.88). The cotton pajamas supplied to customers by Emirates Airlines—light-gray top with shawl collar, dark-gray bottoms with drawstring waist—are, according to the airline, the “world’s first moisturizing sleepwear,” releasing pellets of kelp onto your skin, a luxury I’d pay not to receive.


“A Stranger”

I wonder if my dead mother still thinks of me .
I know I don ’ t know her new @ @ @ @ @ t know her , not now .
I don ’ t know if “ her @ @ @ @ @ in a stranger ’ s mind when he sees my dead mother walking down the @ @ @ @ @ dress .
I wonder if he inhales the cigarette smoke that will eventually kill him @ @ @ @ @ I knew a woman who was both the light and every shadow the light pierces.
@ @ @ @ @ passing glance at my dead mother is enough to make a poet out of anyone @ @ @ @ @ ’ m the song she hums as she waits for the light to change or @ @ @ @ @ the traffic signal holding her up .

Audio: Read by the author.
I wonder if my dead mother still thinks of me.
I know I don’t know her new name. I don’t know
her, not now. I don’t know if “her” is the word
burning in a stranger’s mind when he sees my dead
mother walking down the street in her bright black
dress. I wonder if he inhales the cigarette smoke
that will eventually kill him and thinks “I wish I knew
a woman who was both the light and every shadow
the light pierces.” I wonder if a passing glance at my dead
mother is enough to make a poet out of anyone. I wonder
if I’m the song she hums as she waits for the light to change
or if I’m just the traffic signal holding her up.


Cartoon Caption Contest

Each week , we provide a cartoon in need of a caption .
You , the reader , submit your @ @ @ @ @ three finalists , and you vote for your favorite .
Anyone age thirteen or older @ @ @ @ @ To read the complete rules , click here .

Each week, we provide a cartoon in need of a caption. You, the reader, submit your caption here, we choose three finalists, and you vote for your favorite. Anyone age thirteen or older can enter or vote. To read the complete rules, click here.
Lonnie Millsap Copy link to cartoon Copy link to cartoon Shop Shop


newyorker--2020-07-13--Democrats Are Optimistic in Arizona

Democrats Are Optimistic in Arizona

As a Navy combat pilot , Mark Kelly landed fighter jets on aircraft carriers hundreds of times .
He flew twenty-two million miles in space as a NASA astronaut , orbiting Earth eight hundred and fifty-four times .
His toughest trip may have been his last .
In May of 2011 , he rocketed to the International Space Station , a few months after his wife , U.S. Representative Gabby Giffords , was gravely wounded by a would-be assassin ’ s bullet while she was meeting with constituents in Tucson .
During that mission , which delivered a fifteen-thousand-pound cosmic-particle @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the universe , Kelly greeted Giffords by spelling out “ It ’ s a Beautiful Day ” in letters that drifted through the zero-gravity air .
Kelly left NASA after that flight , to devote himself to Giffords ’ s recovery and , soon after , to building a nonprofit advocacy organization for gun safety , now called Giffords .
He emerged in countless interviews , often with his wife by his side , as a genial and respectful partner in a cause that mattered to both of them , partly because they @ @ @ @ @ @ @ election cycle , Giffords and other national gun-safety groups outspent the National Rifle Association , and more than eighty per cent of the candidates whom Giffords endorsed went on to victory .
As Arizona sputtered through fractious policy debates and coped with the death of one Republican senator ( John McCain ) and the departure of another ( Jeff Flake ) , Democrats often asked Kelly to run for office .
Kelly demurred .
He said he felt good about his career and his choices , although he once told an interviewer , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ gone to Mars.
” This campaign cycle , with control of the U.S. Senate at stake , he changed his mind and now finds himself well ahead of the Republican incumbent , Martha McSally , herself a former fighter pilot , who has aligned herself closely with the increasingly unpopular President Trump .
Polls show Joe Biden ahead of Trump in a state that has been carried by only one Democratic Presidential candidate—Bill Clinton , in 1996—in the past seventy-two years .
As Flake put it to me , “ Arizona is as @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
Suburban women , minorities , millennials—some of whom , particularly in the millennial camp , have been walking away from the Party for a while—are now in a dead sprint.
” Among many factors is the halting response to the COVID-19 crisis by Trump and Arizona ’ s Republican governor , Doug Ducey .
An ABC News/Ipsos poll released last week found that sixty-seven per cent of Americans disapprove of Trump ’ s handling of the pandemic .
In a separate survey , an academic consortium reported that Ducey has a thirty-two-per-cent @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , the lowest of any governor in the country .
Ducey took the pandemic threat lightly and raced to reopen the state , only to see confirmed cases and hospitalizations climb .
On July 1st , he asked the Trump Administration to send hundreds of reinforcements for the state ’ s health workers .
Aides have warned Trump that he is in trouble in Arizona , which he won by less than four points in 2016 , just four years after Mitt Romney won by nine .
But when I asked the Trump @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the spokesperson Samantha Zager sounded unconcerned .
She replied , by e-mail , that Republicans have held over two thousand events during the 2020 election cycle and are seeing “ remarkable enthusiasm ” from Arizona voters , “ while Joe Biden ’ s campaign seems to have just located Arizona on a map.
” Much can happen in four months , but to look at this moment in freeze-frame is to see Trump , McSally , and any number of Republicans across the country struggling to find a message .
Amid a pandemic @ @ @ @ @ @ @ and thirty thousand people in the United States and pushed more than forty million workers to file for unemployment , Trump seems to have abandoned his original 2020 slogan , “ Keep America Great , ” while offering neither explanation nor apology for his handling of the coronavirus and the economic fallout .
His principal answer to the Black Lives Matter protests that have spread from cities into the largely white towns that helped produce his Electoral College majority has been to tweet , in all caps , “ LAW & ORDER !
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ not think that Trump ’ s tough talk , including his vilification of undocumented immigrants and his trade wars , will work .
“ Anger and resentment are not a governing philosophy , ” Flake said .
“ You can , in an election here or there , drill down on the base and pull out a win .
But it runs its course , and you end up in a demographic cul de sac.
” If Republicans are headed toward a reckoning in November , Arizona offers warning signals for a beleaguered @ @ @ @ @ @ @ down the ballot for the second election cycle in a row .
Energized Democrats have spent years building a grassroots operation , especially in the big cities that often determine statewide success .
“ It ’ s one of those states that ’ s moving our direction little by little , ” Josh Schwerin , the communications director of Priorities USA , a pro-Biden super-PAC that is running an ad accusing Trump of “ failing America , ” said .
Schwerin reported that the organization plans to spend eleven million dollars on advertising @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Lincoln Project , an increasingly high-profile effort led by Republicans who aim to defeat Trump and many of his supporters in the Senate , is running withering ads in Arizona , targeting Trump and McSally .
One sign of change is visible in voter registration , which has grown by twenty-five per cent since 2012 .
During that time , Democrats have cut the Republican registration lead in half , with about one-third of Arizonans registering as independents .
Significantly , Latino voter registration and turnout have increased , favoring Democrats .
An @ @ @ @ @ @ @ March , before Biden became the presumptive Democratic nominee , showed a wide preference among Latino voters for Kelly and any Democrat running against Trump .
An intensification of old-fashioned canvassing helped .
“ We know that we can improve voter turnout and that , over time , once you get people voting , they ’ ll continue to vote , ” Eric Meyer , the former Democratic leader in the state House , told me .
On a Sunday afternoon in June , two Democratic candidates for state representative on Meyer ’ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , held a Zoom call to mobilize volunteers .
For more than ninety minutes , forty people discussed issues ranging from health care to the challenge of attracting fence-sitting Republicans .
One of the candidates was Kelli Butler , who won office on November 8 , 2016 , the night that Trump stunned Hillary Clinton .
“ I thought it was going to be this wonderful election party , and I felt like I ’ d boarded the Titanic , ” Butler told me .
Yet Trump ’ s election had a silver @ @ @ @ @ @ @ which includes the prosperous Paradise Valley and parts of North Central Phoenix : it inspired anti-Republican activism .
“ Just a huge jump of people , ” she said .
Christine Marsh , a high-school English teacher who was once Arizona ’ s teacher of the year , was the other candidate on the Zoom call .
She is in a rematch of the 2018 state-senate race , when she came within two hundred and sixty-seven votes of defeating the incumbent , a moderate Republican named Kate Brophy McGee .
To win this @ @ @ @ @ @ @ has helped register four thousand more Democrats and is making about two thousand phone calls a week .

As a Navy combat pilot, Mark Kelly landed fighter jets on aircraft carriers hundreds of times. He flew twenty-two million miles in space as a NASA astronaut, orbiting Earth eight hundred and fifty-four times. His toughest trip may have been his last. In May of 2011, he rocketed to the International Space Station, a few months after his wife, U.S. Representative Gabby Giffords, was gravely wounded by a would-be assassin’s bullet while she was meeting with constituents in Tucson. During that mission, which delivered a fifteen-thousand-pound cosmic-particle detector designed to study the formation of the universe, Kelly greeted Giffords by spelling out “It’s a Beautiful Day” in letters that drifted through the zero-gravity air.
Kelly left NASA after that flight, to devote himself to Giffords’s recovery and, soon after, to building a nonprofit advocacy organization for gun safety, now called Giffords. He emerged in countless interviews, often with his wife by his side, as a genial and respectful partner in a cause that mattered to both of them, partly because they themselves own guns. In the 2018 election cycle, Giffords and other national gun-safety groups outspent the National Rifle Association, and more than eighty per cent of the candidates whom Giffords endorsed went on to victory. As Arizona sputtered through fractious policy debates and coped with the death of one Republican senator (John McCain) and the departure of another (Jeff Flake), Democrats often asked Kelly to run for office. Kelly demurred. He said he felt good about his career and his choices, although he once told an interviewer, “I wish I could’ve gone to Mars.”
This campaign cycle, with control of the U.S. Senate at stake, he changed his mind and now finds himself well ahead of the Republican incumbent, Martha McSally, herself a former fighter pilot, who has aligned herself closely with the increasingly unpopular President Trump. Polls show Joe Biden ahead of Trump in a state that has been carried by only one Democratic Presidential candidate—Bill Clinton, in 1996—in the past seventy-two years. As Flake put it to me, “Arizona is as much the state to watch as Wisconsin. Suburban women, minorities, millennials—some of whom, particularly in the millennial camp, have been walking away from the Party for a while—are now in a dead sprint.”
Among many factors is the halting response to the COVID-19 crisis by Trump and Arizona’s Republican governor, Doug Ducey. An ABC News/Ipsos poll released last week found that sixty-seven per cent of Americans disapprove of Trump’s handling of the pandemic. In a separate survey, an academic consortium reported that Ducey has a thirty-two-per-cent approval rate for his handling of COVID-19, the lowest of any governor in the country. Ducey took the pandemic threat lightly and raced to reopen the state, only to see confirmed cases and hospitalizations climb. On July 1st, he asked the Trump Administration to send hundreds of reinforcements for the state’s health workers. Aides have warned Trump that he is in trouble in Arizona, which he won by less than four points in 2016, just four years after Mitt Romney won by nine. But when I asked the Trump campaign to discuss its Arizona efforts, the spokesperson Samantha Zager sounded unconcerned. She replied, by e-mail, that Republicans have held over two thousand events during the 2020 election cycle and are seeing “remarkable enthusiasm” from Arizona voters, “while Joe Biden’s campaign seems to have just located Arizona on a map.”
Much can happen in four months, but to look at this moment in freeze-frame is to see Trump, McSally, and any number of Republicans across the country struggling to find a message. Amid a pandemic that has killed more than a hundred and thirty thousand people in the United States and pushed more than forty million workers to file for unemployment, Trump seems to have abandoned his original 2020 slogan, “Keep America Great,” while offering neither explanation nor apology for his handling of the coronavirus and the economic fallout. His principal answer to the Black Lives Matter protests that have spread from cities into the largely white towns that helped produce his Electoral College majority has been to tweet, in all caps, “LAW & ORDER!” Flake, for one, does not think that Trump’s tough talk, including his vilification of undocumented immigrants and his trade wars, will work. “Anger and resentment are not a governing philosophy,” Flake said. “You can, in an election here or there, drill down on the base and pull out a win. But it runs its course, and you end up in a demographic cul de sac.”
If Republicans are headed toward a reckoning in November, Arizona offers warning signals for a beleaguered party that is defending seats up and down the ballot for the second election cycle in a row. Energized Democrats have spent years building a grassroots operation, especially in the big cities that often determine statewide success. “It’s one of those states that’s moving our direction little by little,” Josh Schwerin, the communications director of Priorities USA, a pro-Biden super-PAC that is running an ad accusing Trump of “failing America,” said. Schwerin reported that the organization plans to spend eleven million dollars on advertising in Arizona before Election Day. The Lincoln Project, an increasingly high-profile effort led by Republicans who aim to defeat Trump and many of his supporters in the Senate, is running withering ads in Arizona, targeting Trump and McSally.
One sign of change is visible in voter registration, which has grown by twenty-five per cent since 2012. During that time, Democrats have cut the Republican registration lead in half, with about one-third of Arizonans registering as independents. Significantly, Latino voter registration and turnout have increased, favoring Democrats. An Arizona State University poll, conducted in March, before Biden became the presumptive Democratic nominee, showed a wide preference among Latino voters for Kelly and any Democrat running against Trump. An intensification of old-fashioned canvassing helped. “We know that we can improve voter turnout and that, over time, once you get people voting, they’ll continue to vote,” Eric Meyer, the former Democratic leader in the state House, told me.
On a Sunday afternoon in June, two Democratic candidates for state representative on Meyer’s old legislative turf, District 28, held a Zoom call to mobilize volunteers. For more than ninety minutes, forty people discussed issues ranging from health care to the challenge of attracting fence-sitting Republicans. One of the candidates was Kelli Butler, who won office on November 8, 2016, the night that Trump stunned Hillary Clinton. “I thought it was going to be this wonderful election party, and I felt like I’d boarded the Titanic,” Butler told me. Yet Trump’s election had a silver lining for Democrats in her district, which includes the prosperous Paradise Valley and parts of North Central Phoenix: it inspired anti-Republican activism. “Just a huge jump of people,” she said. Christine Marsh, a high-school English teacher who was once Arizona’s teacher of the year, was the other candidate on the Zoom call. She is in a rematch of the 2018 state-senate race, when she came within two hundred and sixty-seven votes of defeating the incumbent, a moderate Republican named Kate Brophy McGee. To win this time, Marsh said, her team has helped register four thousand more Democrats and is making about two thousand phone calls a week.


newyorker--2020-07-13--Trump Replaces Fauci with Chuck Woolery

Trump Replaces Fauci with Chuck Woolery

WASHINGTON ( The Borowitz Report ) —In a stunning repudiation of the nation ’ s leading infectious-disease expert , Donald J. Trump has replaced Dr. Anthony Fauci with the veteran game-show host Chuck Woolery .
Appearing at the White House with his newest Coronavirus Task Force member , Trump said that he chose Woolery because he has “ a much better record of success than Tony.
” “ Tony Fauci is a nice guy , but he ’ s been wrong a lot , ” Trump said .
“ Chuck has made thousands of love connections that turned out a @ @ @ @ @ @ @ first official act as part of the Coronavirus Task Force would be to eliminate social distancing , calling the practice “ ridiculous.
” “ How are you supposed to go on a date and stay six feet apart ?
” Woolery asked .
“ If we had social distancing on ‘ Love Connection , ’ we wouldn ’ t have lasted a single episode.
” He also previewed his approach to clinical trials for potential coronavirus vaccines .
“ We ’ ll inject each contestant with three vaccines and see which one he @ @ @ @ @ @ @ he said .
“ The audience is gon na eat that up.
” Woolery concluded his appearance without taking any questions from reporters , saying , “ We ’ ll be back in two and two .
”

Photograph by Carlo Allegri / Game Show Network / Getty
WASHINGTON (The Borowitz Report)—In a stunning repudiation of the nation’s leading infectious-disease expert, Donald J. Trump has replaced Dr. Anthony Fauci with the veteran game-show host Chuck Woolery.
Appearing at the White House with his newest Coronavirus Task Force member, Trump said that he chose Woolery because he has “a much better record of success than Tony.”
“Tony Fauci is a nice guy, but he’s been wrong a lot,” Trump said. “Chuck has made thousands of love connections that turned out a hundred-per-cent right.”
Woolery said that his first official act as part of the Coronavirus Task Force would be to eliminate social distancing, calling the practice “ridiculous.”
“How are you supposed to go on a date and stay six feet apart?” Woolery asked. “If we had social distancing on ‘Love Connection,’ we wouldn’t have lasted a single episode.”
He also previewed his approach to clinical trials for potential coronavirus vaccines. “We’ll inject each contestant with three vaccines and see which one he’s most compatible with,” he said. “The audience is gonna eat that up.”
Woolery concluded his appearance without taking any questions from reporters, saying, “We’ll be back in two and two.”


newyorker--2020-07-13--Betsy DeVos Promises to Protect Children from Education

WASHINGTON , D.C. ( The Borowitz Report ) —Betsy DeVos vowed on Sunday to do everything in her power as Secretary of Education to protect the nation ’ s children from education .
In an interview on CNN , DeVos said many parents were “ understandably concerned ” that , if their children return to school in the fall , they might be exposed to learning .
“ That will not happen on my watch , ” she promised .
“ We are working around the clock at the Department of Education to keep your children safe from comprehension.
” @ @ @ @ @ @ @ strict distancing measures to ensure that America ’ s students are as distanced as possible from anything resembling a curriculum when they return to school .
“ If it means eliminating books , computers , or even teachers , your kids will be distanced , ” she said .
Raising a worst-case scenario , DeVos said that , if knowledge is somehow transmitted to students , “ I will shut down that school in a minute.
” “ We will be doing a lot of testing , ” DeVos said .
“ If @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , then I have failed .
”

WASHINGTON, D.C. (The Borowitz Report)—Betsy DeVos vowed on Sunday to do everything in her power as Secretary of Education to protect the nation’s children from education.
In an interview on CNN, DeVos said many parents were “understandably concerned” that, if their children return to school in the fall, they might be exposed to learning.
“That will not happen on my watch,” she promised. “We are working around the clock at the Department of Education to keep your children safe from comprehension.”
DeVos said that her staff had drafted strict distancing measures to ensure that America’s students are as distanced as possible from anything resembling a curriculum when they return to school.
“If it means eliminating books, computers, or even teachers, your kids will be distanced,” she said.
Raising a worst-case scenario, DeVos said that, if knowledge is somehow transmitted to students, “I will shut down that school in a minute.”
“We will be doing a lot of testing,” DeVos said. “If students’ test scores somehow go up, then I have failed.”


newyorker--2020-07-13--Why the Chicks Dropped Their “Dixie”

Why the Chicks Dropped Their “Dixie”

In late June , the Dixie Chicks dropped the word “ Dixie ” from its name .
The band ’ s statement was brief and elegant : “ We want to meet this moment.
” The Dixie Chicks were founded in Texas , in 1989 .
Back then , the band was a four-piece .
( The sisters Martie and Emily Erwin , now Martie Maguire and Emily Strayer , are the remaining original members ; since 1995 , the band has been fronted by the singer and guitarist Natalie Maines . )
They wore prairie skirts and fringed blouses @ @ @ @ @ @ @ and traditional country—cowgirls with chops .
The band ’ s name was a riff on “ Dixie Chicken , ” a 1973 album by the chooglin ’ rock band Little Feat .
Sifting through early press coverage of the group , I couldn ’ t find a single critic who thought the name was repugnant .
Yet , among historians , there is little ambiguity about what the word “ Dixie ” communicates .
Its use as a doting nickname for the Confederacy was popularized by “ I Wish I Was in Dixie @ @ @ @ @ @ @ song published in 1860 and usually performed in blackface .
The song is credited to Daniel Decatur Emmett , a white man from Knox County , Ohio , though the scholars Howard and Judith Sacks have suggested that Emmett stole the tune from the Snowdens , a family of freed slaves who performed and farmed around Emmett ’ s home town .
“ Dixie songs ” —which typically expressed nostalgia for the antebellum South—continued to appear throughout the first decades of the twentieth century .
“ They were quite popular .
Irving Berlin @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Cox , a professor of history at the University of North Carolina at Charlotte and the author of “ Dreaming of Dixie : How the South Was Created in American Popular Culture , ” told me recently .
She does not find the word to be merely descriptive : “ As a scholar of the South , I regard ‘ Dixie ’ as a term that not only refers to the states of the former Confederacy but is synonymous with segregation.
” Cox cited the Dixiecrats , the group formed in 1948 , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ who seceded from the Democratic Party because they disagreed with its support of civil rights .
“ These resonances are part of what the Dixie Chicks selected when they selected the name , whether they intended to or not , ” Gregory Downs , a professor of history at the University of California at Davis , said .
“ It ’ s important that they—and everyone who received that message of white Southern pride—think about what they took on.
” Within modern country music , tropes that address a kind of vigilante Southern @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the deep moral purity of the Southern states—remain wildly popular , even rooted as they are in racial violence .
Yet country music itself owes an incalculable debt to the Black string bands and players—the Mississippi Sheiks , Gus Cannon , Frank Patterson , and Nathan Frazier , among others—who predated the proliferation of the phonograph .
( There are several compilations of the few Black string bands that did record ; two exceptional ones are “ Altamont : Black Stringband Music from the Library of Congress ” and “ Black Banjo Songsters @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Early labels deliberately sold country and hillbilly 78s to white customers , and blues and jazz 78s ( or “ race records ” ) to Black customers , thereby enforcing a racial fissure along genre lines .
For the descendants of people subjugated under slavery , neither intention nor ignorance now feels like a reasonable defense of these tropes .
Yet white history is frequently marked by a kind of inherited blindness .
In “ Southern Accents , ” published last year , Michael Washburn dissects how , in 1985 , Tom Petty—a @ @ @ @ @ @ @ album about the South .
Washburn suggests that ideas of Southern heritage are frequently and purposefully divorced from the historical record .
“ We inherit , restate , sometimes re-inscribe these notions , and then represent these ideas to the world , ” Washburn writes .
“ If we push hard enough on just about any part of our life , we plunge through the surface into a history that ’ s unknown to us even as it structures much of how we live.
” Is it possible to love a place and @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the place begin to disappear when its foundational myths are challenged ?
Washburn jokingly describes Faulkner ’ s oft-quoted line about the nature of time— “ The past is never dead , it ’ s not even past ” —as “ the first Southern-history meme.
” The Chicks have been at the center of controversy before .
In 2003 , nine days before the American invasion of Iraq , the band performed in London .
As Maines introduced the single “ Travelin ’ Soldier , ” she told the crowd that she was @ @ @ @ @ @ @ States was from Texas .
When the backlash came , it was precipitate , catastrophic , and unrelenting .
The Chicks had recently become the only female band in any genre to have released two consecutive diamond-certified albums , signifying sales of ten million copies or more .
In our era of anemic chart numbers and fragmented attention , it ’ s difficult to reckon with sales of that magnitude .
There was a lot to lose .
Fans piled CDs in trash cans and set them ablaze .
Country radio—which was then @ @ @ @ @ @ @ conglomerate Clear Channel—blacklisted the Chicks ’ music .
“ These are callow , foolish women who deserve to be slapped around , ” Bill O ’ Reilly said on Fox News .
Maines received one death threat so credible that the F.B.I .
recommended that the band cancel a show in Dallas .
( It didn ’ t . )
What happened to the Chicks in 2003 can be understood now as a foretelling of so-called cancel culture , in which controversial or problematic behavior triggers mass disgust and renunciation .
The Chicks @ @ @ @ @ @ @ In 2005 , the band started writing “ Taking the Long Way , ” its seventh studio album , with the producer Rick Rubin .
It ’ s an angry , reflective record .
At the 2007 Grammys , the Chicks won five awards , including Album of the Year , Record of the Year , and Song of the Year .
Then the band went on hiatus .
Fourteen years later , the Chicks have a new album , “ Gaslighter.
” ( Its release was delayed because of the coronavirus pandemic @ @ @ @ @ @ @ record feature the band ’ s former name , in bright-yellow letters . )
“ Gaslighter ” is brasher and more pop-oriented than anything the band has done before .
Part of this shift feels germane to our era—the idea of genre , as it applies to contemporary music , is growing less and less relevant—but it also feels like a final repudiation of country music , and of a community that mostly failed to support or to understand one of its biggest acts .
Gaslighting is a kind of emotional manipulation in @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the veracity of some plainly untrue claim , thereby causing the victim to doubt reality and , eventually , her own connection to it .
It ’ s not a stretch to consider the longtime framing of the word “ Dixie ” ( or any other paean to a South that was reliant on slaves ) as a type of gaslighting .
Americans have long been told that these representations of the South suggested one thing—some vague idea of regional heritage—when , in fact , they have always meant something else entirely .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ Adrian Pasdar , and “ Gaslighter , ” much like “ Taking the Long Way , ” is a spiritual exorcism of sorts .
Maines is at her best when she ’ s harnessing the righteousness accorded the freshly wronged , and she sings with the vigor and the specificity of a woman who has no one left to please .
Perhaps this is what develops on the other side of a grievous public shaming—fearlessness in the face of collapse .

In late June, the Dixie Chicks dropped the word “Dixie” from its name. The band’s statement was brief and elegant: “We want to meet this moment.” The Dixie Chicks were founded in Texas, in 1989. Back then, the band was a four-piece. (The sisters Martie and Emily Erwin, now Martie Maguire and Emily Strayer, are the remaining original members; since 1995, the band has been fronted by the singer and guitarist Natalie Maines.) They wore prairie skirts and fringed blouses, and played a mixture of bluegrass and traditional country—cowgirls with chops. The band’s name was a riff on “Dixie Chicken,” a 1973 album by the chooglin’ rock band Little Feat. Sifting through early press coverage of the group, I couldn’t find a single critic who thought the name was repugnant.
Yet, among historians, there is little ambiguity about what the word “Dixie” communicates. Its use as a doting nickname for the Confederacy was popularized by “I Wish I Was in Dixie’s Land,” a minstrel song published in 1860 and usually performed in blackface. The song is credited to Daniel Decatur Emmett, a white man from Knox County, Ohio, though the scholars Howard and Judith Sacks have suggested that Emmett stole the tune from the Snowdens, a family of freed slaves who performed and farmed around Emmett’s home town.
“Dixie songs”—which typically expressed nostalgia for the antebellum South—continued to appear throughout the first decades of the twentieth century. “They were quite popular. Irving Berlin even wrote one,” Karen L. Cox, a professor of history at the University of North Carolina at Charlotte and the author of “Dreaming of Dixie: How the South Was Created in American Popular Culture,” told me recently. She does not find the word to be merely descriptive: “As a scholar of the South, I regard ‘Dixie’ as a term that not only refers to the states of the former Confederacy but is synonymous with segregation.” Cox cited the Dixiecrats, the group formed in 1948, by Strom Thurmond and other Southern Democrats who seceded from the Democratic Party because they disagreed with its support of civil rights. “These resonances are part of what the Dixie Chicks selected when they selected the name, whether they intended to or not,” Gregory Downs, a professor of history at the University of California at Davis, said. “It’s important that they—and everyone who received that message of white Southern pride—think about what they took on.”
Within modern country music, tropes that address a kind of vigilante Southern swagger—an insistence on both the rebelliousness and the deep moral purity of the Southern states—remain wildly popular, even rooted as they are in racial violence. Yet country music itself owes an incalculable debt to the Black string bands and players—the Mississippi Sheiks, Gus Cannon, Frank Patterson, and Nathan Frazier, among others—who predated the proliferation of the phonograph. (There are several compilations of the few Black string bands that did record; two exceptional ones are “Altamont: Black Stringband Music from the Library of Congress” and “Black Banjo Songsters of North Carolina and Virginia.”) Early labels deliberately sold country and hillbilly 78s to white customers, and blues and jazz 78s (or “race records”) to Black customers, thereby enforcing a racial fissure along genre lines.
For the descendants of people subjugated under slavery, neither intention nor ignorance now feels like a reasonable defense of these tropes. Yet white history is frequently marked by a kind of inherited blindness. In “Southern Accents,” published last year, Michael Washburn dissects how, in 1985, Tom Petty—a Floridian—used Confederate iconography to promote a concept album about the South. Washburn suggests that ideas of Southern heritage are frequently and purposefully divorced from the historical record. “We inherit, restate, sometimes re-inscribe these notions, and then represent these ideas to the world,” Washburn writes. “If we push hard enough on just about any part of our life, we plunge through the surface into a history that’s unknown to us even as it structures much of how we live.”
Is it possible to love a place and to also disclaim its history? Does the place begin to disappear when its foundational myths are challenged? Washburn jokingly describes Faulkner’s oft-quoted line about the nature of time—“The past is never dead, it’s not even past”—as “the first Southern-history meme.”
The Chicks have been at the center of controversy before. In 2003, nine days before the American invasion of Iraq, the band performed in London. As Maines introduced the single “Travelin’ Soldier,” she told the crowd that she was ashamed that the President of the United States was from Texas. When the backlash came, it was precipitate, catastrophic, and unrelenting. The Chicks had recently become the only female band in any genre to have released two consecutive diamond-certified albums, signifying sales of ten million copies or more. In our era of anemic chart numbers and fragmented attention, it’s difficult to reckon with sales of that magnitude. There was a lot to lose.
Fans piled CDs in trash cans and set them ablaze. Country radio—which was then operated in large part by the media conglomerate Clear Channel—blacklisted the Chicks’ music. “These are callow, foolish women who deserve to be slapped around,” Bill O’Reilly said on Fox News. Maines received one death threat so credible that the F.B.I. recommended that the band cancel a show in Dallas. (It didn’t.)
What happened to the Chicks in 2003 can be understood now as a foretelling of so-called cancel culture, in which controversial or problematic behavior triggers mass disgust and renunciation. The Chicks endured the onslaught with relative poise. In 2005, the band started writing “Taking the Long Way,” its seventh studio album, with the producer Rick Rubin. It’s an angry, reflective record. At the 2007 Grammys, the Chicks won five awards, including Album of the Year, Record of the Year, and Song of the Year. Then the band went on hiatus.
Fourteen years later, the Chicks have a new album, “Gaslighter.” (Its release was delayed because of the coronavirus pandemic, and some physical copies of the record feature the band’s former name, in bright-yellow letters.) “Gaslighter” is brasher and more pop-oriented than anything the band has done before. Part of this shift feels germane to our era—the idea of genre, as it applies to contemporary music, is growing less and less relevant—but it also feels like a final repudiation of country music, and of a community that mostly failed to support or to understand one of its biggest acts.
Gaslighting is a kind of emotional manipulation in which a bad actor vehemently insists on the veracity of some plainly untrue claim, thereby causing the victim to doubt reality and, eventually, her own connection to it. It’s not a stretch to consider the longtime framing of the word “Dixie” (or any other paean to a South that was reliant on slaves) as a type of gaslighting. Americans have long been told that these representations of the South suggested one thing—some vague idea of regional heritage—when, in fact, they have always meant something else entirely.
In 2019, Maines divorced the actor Adrian Pasdar, and “Gaslighter,” much like “Taking the Long Way,” is a spiritual exorcism of sorts. Maines is at her best when she’s harnessing the righteousness accorded the freshly wronged, and she sings with the vigor and the specificity of a woman who has no one left to please. Perhaps this is what develops on the other side of a grievous public shaming—fearlessness in the face of collapse.
This anger and self-possession make “Gaslighter” a thrill and a delight. “Boy I know exactly what you did on my boat!” Maines sings on the title track, a seething indictment of a failed romance. “I know I’m not crazy, that’s you / Gaslighting / You’re a lie-lie-lie-liar!” The song was co-produced by Jack Antonoff, now the default collaborator for A‑list pop stars, and it’s punchy and lush, buoyed by a rich, three-part vocal harmony. Maines’s boat is the album’s Chekhovian gun, reappearing later on. “You can tell the girl who left her tights on my boat that she can have you now,” she sings on “Tights on My Boat.”
Of course, beneath every bout of unfettered rage is a badly broken heart, and Maines doesn’t always excise the ache from her voice. Her lyrics are both the heart and the point of “Gaslighter.” At times, her vocal phrasing reminds me of that of Taylor Swift, another country-gone-pop superstar who trades in frank confessions and retaliatory choruses. A line like “I hope that when you think of me, you can’t breathe,” from “Tights on My Boat,” feels especially Swiftian in its exactitude and ferocity. (The Chicks made an appearance on “Lover,” Swift’s latest record, and Maines seems to have cleared a path, or at least provided a powerful point of inspiration, for Swift’s recent political awakening.)
Elsewhere, Maines’s vitriol is less autobiographical. “Lies are truth and truth is fiction,” she sings on “March March,” a thumping, echo-laden ode to protest. In an early verse, she references the activist Emma González, a survivor of the Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School shooting:
Standing with Emma and our sons and daughters
Watchin’ our youth have to solve our problems
I’ll follow them so who’s comin’ with me
The video, released in late June, features footage of protests from the past several decades. As the song’s instrumentation—banjo, slide guitar, fiddle—reaches a spare but frenzied climax, the video lists the names of people of color who were murdered by law enforcement, ending with Emmett Till.
Lately, I’ve caught myself referring to a lot of new releases as prescient—work that was written and recorded months or even years ago but feels designed to address the present moment. But good art is always prescient, because good artists are tuned into the currency and the momentum of their time. The Chicks are particularly well positioned to see what’s coming for America right now—how the past two centuries have delivered us to this exact moment, and how we should rise to receive it. ♦