newyorker--2020-06-26--Foraged Foods Shorten the Supply Chain

Foraged Foods Shorten the Supply Chain

“ A lot of the talk about quarantine cooking , in the beginning , was , like , ‘ Here ’ s twenty ways to use a can of tuna , ’ ” James O ’ Donnell recounted the other day .
“ It was very much survivalist.
” O ’ Donnell and his partner , Amanda Kingsley , own Allora Farm & Flowers , in Pine Plains , New York , where they grow what they need for their floral-design studio , plus vegetables .
It struck him that “ a lot of people at home could probably use @ @ @ @ @ @ @ now , a little bit of excitement and wonder.
” Before the pandemic , a substantial part of O ’ Donnell and Kingsley ’ s business was supplying restaurants with ingredients that they foraged sustainably from the acres that they lease , as well as from friends ’ properties and from public lands in the Hudson Valley and on Long Island .
With the restaurant market shrinking , they decided to experiment with a direct-to-consumer weekly-ish Wild Box , available for delivery in the Bronx , Manhattan , Brooklyn , and Queens .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ of training .
Perfectly edible plants can look nearly identical to perfectly poisonous ones .
In some cases , a berry that grows on a tree may be as palatable as its flower is lethal .
Still , eating my way through a Wild Box gave me hope for my chances of surviving should even the canned tuna run out .
Learn the rules—many inherited from indigenous peoples—and unlock access to treasures hiding in plain sight in thickets , on riverbanks , and by the shore .
A hefty wedge of chicken-of-the-woods mushroom @ @ @ @ @ @ @ as its name would suggest , its edges pan-frying to a crisp golden brown that rivalled a buttermilk crust , its creamy interior shredding almost like meat .
A vial of sassafras syrup , made by steeping bark and small roots removed responsibly from a sassafras tree , was transformed into an aromatically fizzy glass of root beer when mixed with soda water .
The detailed ingredient key that came in the box suggested treating tender , sweet , snappy sea beans—a succulent , also known as samphire , that grows on beaches @ @ @ @ @ @ @ but to leave the salt out of your vinaigrette until you had tasted the dressed beans .
Sure enough , they were so infused with a natural brine that they didn ’ t need a single grain .
As instructed , I chopped a few stems of henbit—a wild herb in the mint family , identifiable by its square stalk and tiny purple flowers—and mixed it into beaten pheasant eggs for an omelette .
The eggs were from a tiny Brooklyn restaurant called Honey Badger , run by Fjolla Sheholli and Junayd Juman @ @ @ @ @ @ @ served an elaborate tasting menu .
Now they offer a version to go , plus meal kits , pantry items , and a “ curated market basket , ” all with an emphasis on foraged items ; Sheholli , who spent much of her childhood learning the land around her grandmother ’ s farm , in Kosovo , is a skilled forager who gathers ingredients outside the city on a weekly basis .
The eggs had been laid on an oxymoronically named wild-game farm upstate , but my market basket also included an @ @ @ @ @ @ @ hand-collected : a small bouquet of red clover , which I brewed into a subtle tea ; a few sprigs of wild bay leaf ; a generous bunch of common vetch , or wild peas , which bore wispy tendrils and tiny pods .
Though there is much that is technically edible growing in the parks , medians , and other patches of greenery in the five boroughs , Sheholli does not recommend foraging from them ; there could be lead , or worse , in the soil .
But she and Juman @ @ @ @ @ @ @ community—during the pandemic , by delivering food to elders—have no intention of slowing down in their mission to , as she puts it , “ shorten the supply chain.
” Every week , she will forage , and , as soon as they can , the couple will serve their food on Brooklyn ’ s most natural landscape : the sidewalk .
( Allora Wild Box $ 45 ; Honey Badger market basket from $ 65 . )
♦

“A lot of the talk about quarantine cooking, in the beginning, was, like, ‘Here’s twenty ways to use a can of tuna,’ ” James O’Donnell recounted the other day. “It was very much survivalist.” O’Donnell and his partner, Amanda Kingsley, own Allora Farm & Flowers, in Pine Plains, New York, where they grow what they need for their floral-design studio, plus vegetables. It struck him that “a lot of people at home could probably use feeling connected to the natural world right now, a little bit of excitement and wonder.” Before the pandemic, a substantial part of O’Donnell and Kingsley’s business was supplying restaurants with ingredients that they foraged sustainably from the acres that they lease, as well as from friends’ properties and from public lands in the Hudson Valley and on Long Island. With the restaurant market shrinking, they decided to experiment with a direct-to-consumer weekly-ish Wild Box, available for delivery in the Bronx, Manhattan, Brooklyn, and Queens.
Foraged ingredients have always figured prominently at the Brooklyn restaurant Honey Badger, which now offers a version of its tasting menu to go, plus a “curated market basket.” Photograph by Courtney Sofiah Yates for The New Yorker
To forage safely requires a good amount of training. Perfectly edible plants can look nearly identical to perfectly poisonous ones. In some cases, a berry that grows on a tree may be as palatable as its flower is lethal. Still, eating my way through a Wild Box gave me hope for my chances of surviving should even the canned tuna run out. Learn the rules—many inherited from indigenous peoples—and unlock access to treasures hiding in plain sight in thickets, on riverbanks, and by the shore. A hefty wedge of chicken-of-the-woods mushroom pried from a tree trunk performed exactly as its name would suggest, its edges pan-frying to a crisp golden brown that rivalled a buttermilk crust, its creamy interior shredding almost like meat.
Before the pandemic, Amanda Kingsley (left) and James O’Donnell (right), the co-owners of Allora Farm & Flowers, in the Hudson Valley, were supplying restaurants with foraged ingredients in addition to growing flowers and vegetables. Photograph by Courtney Sofiah Yates for The New Yorker
A vial of sassafras syrup, made by steeping bark and small roots removed responsibly from a sassafras tree, was transformed into an aromatically fizzy glass of root beer when mixed with soda water. The detailed ingredient key that came in the box suggested treating tender, sweet, snappy sea beans—a succulent, also known as samphire, that grows on beaches and in coastal marshes—like salad greens, but to leave the salt out of your vinaigrette until you had tasted the dressed beans. Sure enough, they were so infused with a natural brine that they didn’t need a single grain.
A Wild Box from Allora, available for delivery in Manhattan, Brooklyn, Queens, and the Bronx, might include, clockwise from top: squash blossoms grown on the farm; a bouquet of common vetch (also known as wild peas), linden flowers, dame's rocket, and bedstraw; a hunk of a chicken-of-the-woods mushroom. Photograph by Courtney Sofiah Yates for The New Yorker
As instructed, I chopped a few stems of henbit—a wild herb in the mint family, identifiable by its square stalk and tiny purple flowers—and mixed it into beaten pheasant eggs for an omelette. The eggs were from a tiny Brooklyn restaurant called Honey Badger, run by Fjolla Sheholli and Junayd Juman. Before the pandemic, the couple served an elaborate tasting menu. Now they offer a version to go, plus meal kits, pantry items, and a “curated market basket,” all with an emphasis on foraged items; Sheholli, who spent much of her childhood learning the land around her grandmother’s farm, in Kosovo, is a skilled forager who gathers ingredients outside the city on a weekly basis. The eggs had been laid on an oxymoronically named wild-game farm upstate, but my market basket also included an assortment of uncultivated flora that Sheholli had hand-collected: a small bouquet of red clover, which I brewed into a subtle tea; a few sprigs of wild bay leaf; a generous bunch of common vetch, or wild peas, which bore wispy tendrils and tiny pods.
A Wild Box might also contain a bagged mix of lettuce and wild edibles, including mustard flower, wood sorrel, and nasturtium; wild strawberries; a vial of sassafras syrup; a soda made from pine, wildflowers, and honey; a bunch of wild sorrel; and a tin of mountain-mint tea. Photograph by Courtney Sofiah Yates for The New Yorker
Kingsley and O’Donnell do their foraging on the acres they lease, as well as on friends’ properties and on public lands in the Hudson Valley and on Long Island. Photograph by Courtney Sofiah Yates for The New Yorker
Though there is much that is technically edible growing in the parks, medians, and other patches of greenery in the five boroughs, Sheholli does not recommend foraging from them; there could be lead, or worse, in the soil. But she and Juman, who have long supported the local community—during the pandemic, by delivering food to elders—have no intention of slowing down in their mission to, as she puts it, “shorten the supply chain.” Every week, she will forage, and, as soon as they can, the couple will serve their food on Brooklyn’s most natural landscape: the sidewalk. (Allora Wild Box $45; Honey Badger market basket from $65.) ♦
A Guide to the Coronavirus


Caramoor’s Reënvisioned Summer Festival

On July 2 , Caramoor , a summertime classical-music destination housed on a verdant estate near Katonah , New York @ @ @ @ @ festival , featuring both online concerts and outdoor events that allow for social distancing .
@ @ @ @ @ the superb pianist Inon Barnatan ( pictured above ) live-streams a recital of Schubert ’ @ @ @ @ @ Major ( D. 959 ) and his own transcription of Rachmaninoff ’ s enigmatic “ @ @ @ @ @ stage of Caramoor ’ s newly renovated Music Room .

On July 2, Caramoor, a summertime classical-music destination housed on a verdant estate near Katonah, New York, inaugurates a boldly reconceived festival, featuring both online concerts and outdoor events that allow for social distancing. To kick things off, the superb pianist Inon Barnatan (pictured above) live-streams a recital of Schubert’s ebullient Sonata in A Major (D. 959) and his own transcription of Rachmaninoff’s enigmatic “Symphonic Dances” from the stage of Caramoor’s newly renovated Music Room.


newyorker--2020-06-26--How the Police Could Be Defunded

How the Police Could Be Defunded

On June 12th , a C.M.S .
team from the organization Save Our Streets Bed-Stuy set out on a walk , one of three it would take that day , in Bedford-Stuyvesant .
They went by “ hot spots ” where conflict tended to spike in the twenty-six blocks that the team covers .
“ We ’ ve been here five years now , ” Lawrence Brown , the team supervisor , told me .
“ The community knows us ; I grew up around these people.
” As of that day , the area had not had a shooting @ @ @ @ @ @ @ nor a homicide in seven hundred and seventy days .
Shadoe Tarver , the associate director at Save Our Streets Bed-Stuy , told me , “ Outside of our catchment area , there ’ s still a lot of work to be done.
” Tarver coördinates six outreach workers , many of whom have had brushes with the police and served time in prison , and who are from , or live , in the neighborhood .
We walked through Herbert Von King Park , past people sunning themselves on the grass .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
We can not approach someone who bears arms , ” Davonte Dudley , who was wearing black-rimmed glasses and a Chicago Bulls snapback , said .
“ If you know the person , you can get close enough to them for them to walk away , but we can ’ t make them put that gun down.
” Dudley surveyed the park .
“ Nine times out of ten , it ’ s usually a conflict happening between two people that I know .
Your credibility carries a lot , ” he @ @ @ @ @ @ @ got involved with the organization at a time when he was continually getting in trouble ; Save Our Streets took him and other young men on cultural outings , helping him avoid fights in the neighborhood .
Beneath the debate over defunding and abolition are more difficult ideas to take apart : about safety , about criminality .
Who is being kept safe in the current policing system , and from whom are they being protected ?
For decades , patrols protected what was once America ’ s most valuable commodity : enslaved @ @ @ @ @ @ @ black people is older than the nation .
Slave patrols in the South found and returned enslaved people who had escaped their masters , and beat and terrorized enslaved workers deemed to have violated plantation rules .
After the Civil War , Black Codes controlled the movement and behavior of formerly enslaved people ; next came segregation and the growth of prisons , which currently take in African-Americans at five times the rate of white people .
The effect has been the surveillance and punishment of black Americans , reformers contend , for @ @ @ @ @ @ @ and of poor Americans for the security of wealthier ones .
“ The political issue is all of the stereotypes and notions around identity-based criminalization—that are about black people , poor people , people with different health issues , people who are houseless , ” Ejeris Dixon , an organizer and political strategist on racial justice , told me .
“ When we shift from a narrative of crime to one of safety , it creates room for much more humanity , especially for all of us who have always been criminalized.
” @ @ @ @ @ @ @ home , access to food and health care , the ability to earn a living and pay bills .
Over the past few decades , anti-violence efforts have spread through the country to aid communities in achieving those things .
“ These violence-interruption programs can be incredibly important when they are well funded , well run , and lack police interference .
They can show tremendously positive results in reducing shootings and homicides , ” Vitale said .
“ We have research that shows that these programs can work , and we need @ @ @ @ @ @ @ kinds of settings.
” For example , as of 2017 , Cure Violence , a mediation program that C.M.S .
workers often use , has helped reduce shootings in the South Bronx area where they work by sixty-three per cent , according to a study by John Jay College of Criminal Justice .
In the East New York area , it helped reduce shootings by fifteen per cent .
This moment may be the most tricky in recent memory to put in place community-safety programs .
Rising rents , gentrification , and the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ alienated neighbors , when intervention efforts will require the opposite .
“ We need to redistribute resources to community-based alternatives to overcriminalization , ” Torres , the New York City Council member , said .
“ And to police accountability and the social safety net.
” The Oakland chapter of the organization , Critical Resistance , which aims to abolish what it calls the prison-industrial complex , started a community initiative in 2013 called the Oakland Power Projects .
The group hosts workshops where health workers encourage residents to consider other options than @ @ @ @ @ @ @ neighborhood health centers , substance-abuse and mental-health lines , and mobile clinics .
It also trains residents in first-response care , so that they can help their neighbors .
“ Community members were saying that , whenever they have a health emergency , the only thing they have is to call 911 , which often leads to police coming and either not helping or making the situation worse , by obstructing medical workers or questioning people , ” Mohamed Shehk , Critical Resistance ’ s media and communications director , told me .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ communities , many trans communities will not call the cops , because they know they will be criminalized , locked up , deported , or worse if the police show up , so they have practices of addressing situations on their own.
” For more than three decades , a mobile response program in Eugene , Oregon , called Crisis Assistance Helping Out on the Streets , has been taking calls for help related to mental illness , homelessness , and addiction .
It handles more than twenty per cent of 911 calls @ @ @ @

On June 12th, a C.M.S. team from the organization Save Our Streets Bed-Stuy set out on a walk, one of three it would take that day, in Bedford-Stuyvesant. They went by “hot spots” where conflict tended to spike in the twenty-six blocks that the team covers. “We’ve been here five years now,” Lawrence Brown, the team supervisor, told me. “The community knows us; I grew up around these people.” As of that day, the area had not had a shooting in a hundred and seventy days, nor a homicide in seven hundred and seventy days. Shadoe Tarver, the associate director at Save Our Streets Bed-Stuy, told me, “Outside of our catchment area, there’s still a lot of work to be done.” Tarver coördinates six outreach workers, many of whom have had brushes with the police and served time in prison, and who are from, or live, in the neighborhood. We walked through Herbert Von King Park, past people sunning themselves on the grass. “The police fight fire with fire. We cannot approach someone who bears arms,” Davonte Dudley, who was wearing black-rimmed glasses and a Chicago Bulls snapback, said. “If you know the person, you can get close enough to them for them to walk away, but we can’t make them put that gun down.” Dudley surveyed the park. “Nine times out of ten, it’s usually a conflict happening between two people that I know. Your credibility carries a lot,” he said. Now twenty-eight, Dudley first got involved with the organization at a time when he was continually getting in trouble; Save Our Streets took him and other young men on cultural outings, helping him avoid fights in the neighborhood.
Beneath the debate over defunding and abolition are more difficult ideas to take apart: about safety, about criminality. Who is being kept safe in the current policing system, and from whom are they being protected? For decades, patrols protected what was once America’s most valuable commodity: enslaved people. The heavily policed status of black people is older than the nation. Slave patrols in the South found and returned enslaved people who had escaped their masters, and beat and terrorized enslaved workers deemed to have violated plantation rules. After the Civil War, Black Codes controlled the movement and behavior of formerly enslaved people; next came segregation and the growth of prisons, which currently take in African-Americans at five times the rate of white people. The effect has been the surveillance and punishment of black Americans, reformers contend, for the comfort of their white neighbors, and of poor Americans for the security of wealthier ones. “The political issue is all of the stereotypes and notions around identity-based criminalization—that are about black people, poor people, people with different health issues, people who are houseless,” Ejeris Dixon, an organizer and political strategist on racial justice, told me. “When we shift from a narrative of crime to one of safety, it creates room for much more humanity, especially for all of us who have always been criminalized.”
Being safe has always required other things—a home, access to food and health care, the ability to earn a living and pay bills. Over the past few decades, anti-violence efforts have spread through the country to aid communities in achieving those things. “These violence-interruption programs can be incredibly important when they are well funded, well run, and lack police interference. They can show tremendously positive results in reducing shootings and homicides,” Vitale said. “We have research that shows that these programs can work, and we need to dramatically expand their usage in all kinds of settings.”
For example, as of 2017, Cure Violence, a mediation program that C.M.S. workers often use, has helped reduce shootings in the South Bronx area where they work by sixty-three per cent, according to a study by John Jay College of Criminal Justice. In the East New York area, it helped reduce shootings by fifteen per cent. This moment may be the most tricky in recent memory to put in place community-safety programs. Rising rents, gentrification, and the restrictions of the ongoing pandemic have further alienated neighbors, when intervention efforts will require the opposite. “We need to redistribute resources to community-based alternatives to overcriminalization,” Torres, the New York City Council member, said. “And to police accountability and the social safety net.”
The Oakland chapter of the organization, Critical Resistance, which aims to abolish what it calls the prison-industrial complex, started a community initiative in 2013 called the Oakland Power Projects. The group hosts workshops where health workers encourage residents to consider other options than calling the police, such as phoning neighborhood health centers, substance-abuse and mental-health lines, and mobile clinics. It also trains residents in first-response care, so that they can help their neighbors. “Community members were saying that, whenever they have a health emergency, the only thing they have is to call 911, which often leads to police coming and either not helping or making the situation worse, by obstructing medical workers or questioning people,” Mohamed Shehk, Critical Resistance’s media and communications director, told me. “Many black communities, many undocumented communities, many trans communities will not call the cops, because they know they will be criminalized, locked up, deported, or worse if the police show up, so they have practices of addressing situations on their own.” For more than three decades, a mobile response program in Eugene, Oregon, called Crisis Assistance Helping Out on the Streets, has been taking calls for help related to mental illness, homelessness, and addiction. It handles more than twenty per cent of 911 calls in the area.
Republicans and Democrats have approached demands for police defunding warily. President Trump has said that he is “appalled” by calls to defund, and the chairwoman of the Congressional Black Caucus, Democratic Representative Karen Bass, said that the movement could be used as a “distraction.” Democrats in Congress have introduced legislation to address police brutality and punish police misconduct, but the proposal makes no mention of police budgets. Joe Biden, the presumptive Democratic nominee, has said that he does not believe that police should be defunded, though he supports investing in community-response programs. Activists are disappointed. “Young people are sick and tired of a two-tiered criminal-justice system that systematically devalues black and brown life,” Torres said. “And the injustice persists no matter who is in power.” On Tuesday, Torres was one of three progressives who won Democratic primaries for House seats in the New York area.


newyorker--2020-06-26--Richard Brody’s Cinema Therapy: Films of Riotous Whimsy

“ It makes me sound old-fashioned , but I think I am an anarchist , ” the filmmaker Jacques Tati said .
For Tati , who had a miniature city constructed at personally bankrupting expense in order to parody high-modern Paris , in his film “ PlayTime , ” and stage a joyous riot within it , phantasmagoric playfulness could both entertain and enact a disruptive , humanistic politics .
As the New Yorker film critic Richard Brody affirms , in the video above , “ everyone has their own cinema therapy in a time of crisis.
” Last month @ @ @ @ @ @ @ his preferred form—moments of fantastical whimsy , from “ PlayTime ” and three other films—and helped me re-create an activity that many colleagues and I had relished before the quarantine , situated between our office ’ s microwaves and its tiered displays of Spicy Sweet Chili Doritos : talking to Richard about movies .
Meanwhile , I was grateful to access my form of cinematic therapy as some now access the clinical kind : in a Zoom window .
You can see clips from the films—along with our commentary—in our video above .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ 1971 , centers on a charmless trust-fund sociopath played , with unflappable disdain , by Walter Matthau .
In a cross between a “ Bluebeard ” and “ Cinderella ” story , Matthau ’ s character must seduce , marry , and murder an heiress within six weeks , to get her fortune , after burning through his own .
Elaine May , who wrote , directed , and co-starred in the film , sends up the non-working class for absurdities like a sports car that needs servicing after every use , multiple @ @ @ @ @ @ @ old chestnut of class farce : a discerning manservant who repeatedly steers his incompetent charge out of danger .
The film has a surprisingly true emotional core , owing , in large part , to May ’ s sweet , klutzy botanist , whose “ remarkably delicately awkward form of physical comedy , ” as Richard says ( particularly in the teacup-loss scene shown above ) , is genuinely funny—an intoxicatingly rare combination .
In “ A King in New York , ” Charlie Chaplin plays an exiled head of state thrust into @ @ @ @ @ @ @ film was , in fact , made in England , during Chaplin ’ s own political exile , and enacts elements of the McCarthyist persecution that drove him from the U.S. ) The perverse interpenetration of reality and reality TV , familiar to viewers from so many episodes of “ Keeping Up with the Kardashians ” ( along with “ Cops ” and “ Live PD , ” both recently cancelled ) , is showcased nowhere so well as in a monologue from “ Hamlet ” captured on candid camera , and shown @ @ @ @ @ @ @ avatar , the Little Tramp , may be jarred to see Chaplin with the Dane ’ s clean-shaven , shock-white toilette , but the film retains the Tramp ’ s world view : rendering novel and strange the requirement that one must have money to live .
It also expands the targets of its satire to the ideological coercion of the state and the commercialization of identity borne of the first golden age of television .
Neither a horny , élitist ex-monarch nor a tiny , adorable Communist ( played by Chaplin ’ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ two governing forces of the film ’ s American exceptionalism .
“ Down Argentine Way , ” from 1940 , is , as Richard says , “ a terrible movie.
” Even the ordinarily enthusiastic National Film Preservation Board confines itself to the plain facts—that “ Betty Grable ’ s first starring role in a Technicolor musical happened only because Alice Faye had an attack of appendicitis ” —with just a single note of appreciation : that the Nicholas Brothers ’ “ unparalleled dance routines dazzle.
” Fayard and Harold Nicholas began their @ @ @ @ @ @ @ black vaudeville circuit , innovating an acrobatic form of tap dance .
Yet , the brothers were repeatedly denied the substantive speaking roles accorded to white performers , including their contemporary and admirer Fred Astaire .
“ It never did happen , ” Fayard said , in an interview .
“ But those five minutes in each of our films made us famous all over the world.
” The breathtakingly virtuosic sequence shown above is one of them , a testament to their talent and resilience in the face of racism as old @ @ @ @ @ @ @ “ PlayTime , ” from 1967 , too , explores forms of exclusion : by race , by age , by public and private space .
Jacques Tati—the rangy , teetering space cadet to Chaplin ’ s neurotic cannonball—co-wrote , directed , and starred in this mesmerizing lampoon of late-capitalist modernism , which suggests that human irreverence , joy , and connection will have to take place in spite of , and even opposition to , the labyrinthine trappings of its monumental setting , a Paris meant to facilitate convenient production and consumption—while @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the film ’ s concerns , in 2014 , in his work “ Playtime.
” ) But Tati ’ s city is a dreamlike rather than a sinister labyrinth , with nose-bonking doors and beeping panels that bemuse and divide its residents and tourists with amazingly inventive sight gags , until , at last , some are able to—at least partially—tear it down .
With their slapstick roots and political rhizomes , these clips may be , I hope , if not therapeutic , salving and invigorating , like a cup of tea @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Enjoy , to taste .

“It makes me sound old-fashioned, but I think I am an anarchist,” the filmmaker Jacques Tati said. For Tati, who had a miniature city constructed at personally bankrupting expense in order to parody high-modern Paris, in his film “PlayTime,” and stage a joyous riot within it, phantasmagoric playfulness could both entertain and enact a disruptive, humanistic politics. As the New Yorker film critic Richard Brody affirms, in the video above, “everyone has their own cinema therapy in a time of crisis.” Last month, Richard selected a few sources of his preferred form—moments of fantastical whimsy, from “PlayTime” and three other films—and helped me re-create an activity that many colleagues and I had relished before the quarantine, situated between our office’s microwaves and its tiered displays of Spicy Sweet Chili Doritos: talking to Richard about movies. Meanwhile, I was grateful to access my form of cinematic therapy as some now access the clinical kind: in a Zoom window. You can see clips from the films—along with our commentary—in our video above.
“A New Leaf,” from 1971, centers on a charmless trust-fund sociopath played, with unflappable disdain, by Walter Matthau. In a cross between a “Bluebeard” and “Cinderella” story, Matthau’s character must seduce, marry, and murder an heiress within six weeks, to get her fortune, after burning through his own. Elaine May, who wrote, directed, and co-starred in the film, sends up the non-working class for absurdities like a sports car that needs servicing after every use, multiple erotic obsessions with carpets, and the old chestnut of class farce: a discerning manservant who repeatedly steers his incompetent charge out of danger. The film has a surprisingly true emotional core, owing, in large part, to May’s sweet, klutzy botanist, whose “remarkably delicately awkward form of physical comedy,” as Richard says (particularly in the teacup-loss scene shown above), is genuinely funny—an intoxicatingly rare combination.
In “A King in New York,” Charlie Chaplin plays an exiled head of state thrust into mid-fifties New York City. (The film was, in fact, made in England, during Chaplin’s own political exile, and enacts elements of the McCarthyist persecution that drove him from the U.S.) The perverse interpenetration of reality and reality TV, familiar to viewers from so many episodes of “Keeping Up with the Kardashians” (along with “Cops” and “Live PD,” both recently cancelled), is showcased nowhere so well as in a monologue from “Hamlet” captured on candid camera, and shown above. Those familiar with his earlier avatar, the Little Tramp, may be jarred to see Chaplin with the Dane’s clean-shaven, shock-white toilette, but the film retains the Tramp’s world view: rendering novel and strange the requirement that one must have money to live. It also expands the targets of its satire to the ideological coercion of the state and the commercialization of identity borne of the first golden age of television. Neither a horny, élitist ex-monarch nor a tiny, adorable Communist (played by Chaplin’s son) is safe from these two governing forces of the film’s American exceptionalism.
“Down Argentine Way,” from 1940, is, as Richard says, “a terrible movie.” Even the ordinarily enthusiastic National Film Preservation Board confines itself to the plain facts—that “Betty Grable’s first starring role in a Technicolor musical happened only because Alice Faye had an attack of appendicitis”—with just a single note of appreciation: that the Nicholas Brothers’ “unparalleled dance routines dazzle.” Fayard and Harold Nicholas began their meteoric careers as children, on the black vaudeville circuit, innovating an acrobatic form of tap dance. Yet, the brothers were repeatedly denied the substantive speaking roles accorded to white performers, including their contemporary and admirer Fred Astaire. “It never did happen,” Fayard said, in an interview. “But those five minutes in each of our films made us famous all over the world.” The breathtakingly virtuosic sequence shown above is one of them, a testament to their talent and resilience in the face of racism as old and as bitter as Hollywood itself.
“PlayTime,” from 1967, too, explores forms of exclusion: by race, by age, by public and private space. Jacques Tati—the rangy, teetering space cadet to Chaplin’s neurotic cannonball—co-wrote, directed, and starred in this mesmerizing lampoon of late-capitalist modernism, which suggests that human irreverence, joy, and connection will have to take place in spite of, and even opposition to, the labyrinthine trappings of its monumental setting, a Paris meant to facilitate convenient production and consumption—while achieving neither. (Isaac Julien broadens the film’s concerns, in 2014, in his work “Playtime.”) But Tati’s city is a dreamlike rather than a sinister labyrinth, with nose-bonking doors and beeping panels that bemuse and divide its residents and tourists with amazingly inventive sight gags, until, at last, some are able to—at least partially—tear it down.
With their slapstick roots and political rhizomes, these clips may be, I hope, if not therapeutic, salving and invigorating, like a cup of tea on the eve of the revolution. Enjoy, to taste.


newyorker--2020-06-26--“Irresistible” and “Eurovision Song Contest: The Story of Fire Saga,” Reviewed

The mood of the new Jon Stewart film , “ Irresistible , ” is caught by the song at the start—Bob Seger ’ s “ Still the Same , ” from 1978 .
Listen to the upbeat cynicism : holding out for better times but guessing that nothing will change .
“ Moving game to game , ” Seger sings .
“ Turning on the charm / Long enough to get you by.
” That certainly fits Gary Zimmer ( Steve Carell ) , a Democratic strategist , who crawls from the wreckage of the 2016 election and goes hunting @ @ @ @ @ @ @ finds it in Deerlaken , Wisconsin .
Or , as a title onscreen refers to it , “ Rural America , Heartland U.S.A. ” And that ’ s the problem .
The rural is an abstraction , somewhere out in the nation ’ s midriff , beloved of political tacticians but rarely visited .
( Hillary Clinton famously forgot , or neglected , to swing through Wisconsin during her campaign , and wound up losing the state . )
And , even when it is visited , the heartland is all too easy @ @ @ @ @ @ @ schmuckiness incarnate , looking up Wisconsin on Wikipedia as he munches baby balls of mozzarella on a private jet from the East Coast .
Arriving in Deerlaken , he walks into a bar and , to the bemusement of the bartender , orders “ a Bud and a burger.
” In a Hofbrau ?
Dummkopf .
Gary is on a mission .
He has come to meet Jack Hastings ( Chris Cooper ) , a.k.a .
Colonel Jack , a retired marine , a farmer , and a widower .
A video of @ @ @ @ @ @ @ virtues of decency and public service during a town meeting , has gone viral , and Gary believes that such a fine fellow should stand for office not only in this conservative district but maybe far beyond .
“ He ’ s a Democrat , ” Gary says .
“ He just doesn ’ t know it yet.
” Grudgingly , Jack agrees to run for mayor , if Gary will take charge of the campaign .
And so , lever by lever , the machinery of electioneering is cranked into life , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , number crunchers , and a war room stuffed with banks of monitors .
If Mr. Smith won ’ t go to Washington , Washington will come to Mr. Smith .
A noble tradition , not merely of movies , stretches out behind “ Irresistible.
” Gary is an update of Aesop ’ s town mouse , set adrift in the country .
( The funniest specimen is Mr. Salter , the foreign editor of a major London newspaper in Evelyn Waugh ’ s “ Scoop , ” who braces himself for a @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
Travelling , he admits , “ always upsets me.
” ) Deerlaken is flustered by the political circus much as a quiet New England town was by the onslaught of a production company in “ State and Main ” ( 2000 ) , and the image of Jack ’ s daughter , Diana ( Mackenzie Davis ) , with her arm stuck up the rear end of a cow is standard visual shorthand for the ickiness of the outdoors ; Billy Crystal pulls the identical move in “ City Slickers ” ( @ @ @ @ @ @ @ we need to ask : is the movie mocking the slicker or channelling—wittingly or otherwise—his disorientation and his distaste ?
The question is a serious one , in Stewart ’ s new film , because it troubles his political good faith .
He clearly despairs of a broken system , and his conscience naturally allies him with Colonel Jack .
Yet the movie can ’ t help tuning out the voices of the very people whose cause it seeks to espouse .
Consider the sequence in which a group of locals are shocked @ @ @ @ @ @ @ rival is now spending money on his own campaign .
All we get are multiple shots of Gary ’ s reaction to the news—comically overwrought , the implication being that these people are even greener and more primitive than he thought .
Sure , he ’ s the hero of the drama , in his wicked fashion , and , sure , Carell is the star .
( As usual , he is half frozen in a rictus of desperation : eager to please , wherever possible , but basically hating people anyway @ @ @ @ @ @ @ nice , though , if Davis , for one , were allowed to get a word in edgewise ?
If you want to see a proper mayoral race , as noisy and as crowded as a sack of cats , try “ Hail the Conquering Hero ” ( 1944 ) .
It ’ s a Preston Sturges film , which means a democratic overload : everyone gets a word in , all the time .
To be fair , “ Irresistible ” picks up in the final quarter , with the aid of @ @ @ @ @ @ @ nowhere .
We get an assortment of different endings , each undercutting the last .
It ’ s as if this dozy film has woken up , belatedly , to its comic responsibilities and opportunities .
We even hear the director himself , over the end credits , quizzing Trevor Potter , the former chairman of the Federal Election Commission , about super PACs .
Stewart reckons that he ’ s found a loophole—a way to rook the whole damn racket and play it for a fool .
So why make a movie @ @ @ @ @ @ @ bag , take your plan to Heartland U.S.A. , and try it out ?
In a small fishing town on the Icelandic coast live Lars Erickssong ( Will Ferrell ) and Sigrit Ericksdottir ( Rachel McAdams ) .
They are not brother and sister—or , as Lars is careful to add , “ probably not.
” In a tight-knit community , you can ’ t always be sure .
But he and Sigrit are tied in a kinship that is warmer than blood .
Both of them worship the Eurovision Song Contest , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ brought together in jubilant harmony by the ritual torture and murder of three-minute pop songs .
Lars and Sigrit , who perform as Fire Saga , dream of representing Iceland at the finals ; how that dream pans out is told in “ Eurovision Song Contest : The Story of Fire Saga.
” Has there ever been a title more hedged with nerves ?
Could it be that the movie ’ s director , David Dobkin , is concerned that viewers might not have heard of Eurovision ?
It ’ s as if @ @ @ @ @ @ @ releasing “ Braveheart , ” had decided to rename it “ The First War of Scottish Independence , 1296-1328 : The Story of William Wallace.
” What ’ s touching about Dobkin ’ s film is that the anxiety never fades .
“ Is Eurovision like ‘ The Voice ’ ?
” an American asks .
“ No , it ’ s not like ‘ The Voice , ’ ” Lars replies .
All is explained , or foretold , in the opening credits , where we learn that the movie was made @ @ @ @ @ @ @ stands for the European Broadcasting Union , the body that has overseen Eurovision since its birth , in 1956 .
What we are about to watch , in other words , is a promo masquerading as a satire .
Whether you can satirize the Eurovision Song Contest is another matter .
The joke that has sustained Eurovision over the decades , and that feeds “ The Story of Fire Saga , ” is that the ardent gravity with which it is treated by the contenders stands in inverse proportion to their talent ; @ @ @ @ @ @ @ mountainous range of human incompetence , in all its self-deluding glory ?
When I went to Oslo , in 2010 , to report on the contest for this magazine , it was the first occasion since childhood on which I found myself weeping with laughter , sometimes through my nose .
Would that Dobkin ’ s film could summon such sweet tears .
There are smatterings of plot .
By diktat , the country that triumphs at Eurovision has to host the competition the following year .
That prospect alarms the governor of @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Persbrandt ) , who knows how ruinous the cost would be .
He is therefore quite content that the Icelandic entrants should be Lars and Sigrit—a pair of guaranteed losers .
So they fly to Edinburgh , where the contest is taking place ; there , they go head to head against acts such as Belarus ’ s Moon Fang , San Marino ’ s Dalibor Jinsky ( with “ Hit My Itch ” ) , and , from Sweden , Johnny John John .
These artistes are fun , but no more @ @ @ @ @ @ @ forth in an average Eurovision year .
That which already lies beyond parody is , by definition , impossible to lampoon .

The mood of the new Jon Stewart film, “Irresistible,” is caught by the song at the start—Bob Seger’s “Still the Same,” from 1978. Listen to the upbeat cynicism: holding out for better times but guessing that nothing will change. “Moving game to game,” Seger sings. “Turning on the charm / Long enough to get you by.” That certainly fits Gary Zimmer (Steve Carell), a Democratic strategist, who crawls from the wreckage of the 2016 election and goes hunting for fresh hope. Unexpectedly, he finds it in Deerlaken, Wisconsin. Or, as a title onscreen refers to it, “Rural America, Heartland U.S.A.”
And that’s the problem. The rural is an abstraction, somewhere out in the nation’s midriff, beloved of political tacticians but rarely visited. (Hillary Clinton famously forgot, or neglected, to swing through Wisconsin during her campaign, and wound up losing the state.) And, even when it is visited, the heartland is all too easy to misread; we spot Gary, schmuckiness incarnate, looking up Wisconsin on Wikipedia as he munches baby balls of mozzarella on a private jet from the East Coast. Arriving in Deerlaken, he walks into a bar and, to the bemusement of the bartender, orders “a Bud and a burger.” In a Hofbrau? Dummkopf.
Gary is on a mission. He has come to meet Jack Hastings (Chris Cooper), a.k.a. Colonel Jack, a retired marine, a farmer, and a widower. A video of him, taken as he hymns the virtues of decency and public service during a town meeting, has gone viral, and Gary believes that such a fine fellow should stand for office not only in this conservative district but maybe far beyond. “He’s a Democrat,” Gary says. “He just doesn’t know it yet.” Grudgingly, Jack agrees to run for mayor, if Gary will take charge of the campaign. And so, lever by lever, the machinery of electioneering is cranked into life, from flyers and lawn signs to pollsters, number crunchers, and a war room stuffed with banks of monitors. If Mr. Smith won’t go to Washington, Washington will come to Mr. Smith.
A noble tradition, not merely of movies, stretches out behind “Irresistible.” Gary is an update of Aesop’s town mouse, set adrift in the country. (The funniest specimen is Mr. Salter, the foreign editor of a major London newspaper in Evelyn Waugh’s “Scoop,” who braces himself for a trip to the mossiest backwoods of England. Travelling, he admits, “always upsets me.”) Deerlaken is flustered by the political circus much as a quiet New England town was by the onslaught of a production company in “State and Main” (2000), and the image of Jack’s daughter, Diana (Mackenzie Davis), with her arm stuck up the rear end of a cow is standard visual shorthand for the ickiness of the outdoors; Billy Crystal pulls the identical move in “City Slickers” (1991). In every case, we need to ask: is the movie mocking the slicker or channelling—wittingly or otherwise—his disorientation and his distaste?
The question is a serious one, in Stewart’s new film, because it troubles his political good faith. He clearly despairs of a broken system, and his conscience naturally allies him with Colonel Jack. Yet the movie can’t help tuning out the voices of the very people whose cause it seeks to espouse. Consider the sequence in which a group of locals are shocked to hear that Jack’s Republican rival is now spending money on his own campaign. All we get are multiple shots of Gary’s reaction to the news—comically overwrought, the implication being that these people are even greener and more primitive than he thought. Sure, he’s the hero of the drama, in his wicked fashion, and, sure, Carell is the star. (As usual, he is half frozen in a rictus of desperation: eager to please, wherever possible, but basically hating people anyway.) Wouldn’t it be nice, though, if Davis, for one, were allowed to get a word in edgewise? If you want to see a proper mayoral race, as noisy and as crowded as a sack of cats, try “Hail the Conquering Hero” (1944). It’s a Preston Sturges film, which means a democratic overload: everyone gets a word in, all the time.
To be fair, “Irresistible” picks up in the final quarter, with the aid of a clever twist that whistles in from nowhere. We get an assortment of different endings, each undercutting the last. It’s as if this dozy film has woken up, belatedly, to its comic responsibilities and opportunities. We even hear the director himself, over the end credits, quizzing Trevor Potter, the former chairman of the Federal Election Commission, about super PACs. Stewart reckons that he’s found a loophole—a way to rook the whole damn racket and play it for a fool. So why make a movie about it? Why not pack a bag, take your plan to Heartland U.S.A., and try it out?
In a small fishing town on the Icelandic coast live Lars Erickssong (Will Ferrell) and Sigrit Ericksdottir (Rachel McAdams). They are not brother and sister—or, as Lars is careful to add, “probably not.” In a tight-knit community, you can’t always be sure. But he and Sigrit are tied in a kinship that is warmer than blood. Both of them worship the Eurovision Song Contest, the annual competition in which nations are brought together in jubilant harmony by the ritual torture and murder of three-minute pop songs. Lars and Sigrit, who perform as Fire Saga, dream of representing Iceland at the finals; how that dream pans out is told in “Eurovision Song Contest: The Story of Fire Saga.”
Has there ever been a title more hedged with nerves? Could it be that the movie’s director, David Dobkin, is concerned that viewers might not have heard of Eurovision? It’s as if Mel Gibson, on the brink of releasing “Braveheart,” had decided to rename it “The First War of Scottish Independence, 1296-1328: The Story of William Wallace.” What’s touching about Dobkin’s film is that the anxiety never fades. “Is Eurovision like ‘The Voice’?” an American asks. “No, it’s not like ‘The Voice,’ ” Lars replies. All is explained, or foretold, in the opening credits, where we learn that the movie was made “in association with E.B.U.” This stands for the European Broadcasting Union, the body that has overseen Eurovision since its birth, in 1956. What we are about to watch, in other words, is a promo masquerading as a satire.
Whether you can satirize the Eurovision Song Contest is another matter. The joke that has sustained Eurovision over the decades, and that feeds “The Story of Fire Saga,” is that the ardent gravity with which it is treated by the contenders stands in inverse proportion to their talent; where else can you witness such a mountainous range of human incompetence, in all its self-deluding glory? When I went to Oslo, in 2010, to report on the contest for this magazine, it was the first occasion since childhood on which I found myself weeping with laughter, sometimes through my nose. Would that Dobkin’s film could summon such sweet tears.
There are smatterings of plot. By diktat, the country that triumphs at Eurovision has to host the competition the following year. That prospect alarms the governor of the Central Bank of Iceland (Mikael Persbrandt), who knows how ruinous the cost would be. He is therefore quite content that the Icelandic entrants should be Lars and Sigrit—a pair of guaranteed losers. So they fly to Edinburgh, where the contest is taking place; there, they go head to head against acts such as Belarus’s Moon Fang, San Marino’s Dalibor Jinsky (with “Hit My Itch”), and, from Sweden, Johnny John John. These artistes are fun, but no more so than the real ones who sprout forth in an average Eurovision year. That which already lies beyond parody is, by definition, impossible to lampoon.
It’s not a bad strategy, inserting your fictional characters into a factual event. Christopher Guest did it beautifully in “Best in Show” (2000), with his parade of purebred dogs and their crossbred owners. His observations rang with the bark of truth; patient and percipient, he seemed to happen upon the comedy of the situation, whereas Dobkin hurries to manufacture it—and, weirdly, takes half an hour longer to complete the job. As for Ferrell, a noted Eurovision nut, there’s no mistaking his affection for the brave hogwash of the genre, but even he is felled by the movie’s swerve into P.R.: a sing-along, say, in which genuine victors from Eurovisions past team up in a rolling medley. Look, there’s Conchita Wurst! And Netta! And the cute lad with the violin! If these folks leave you blank, this may not be your film.
Yet all is not lost. However weak the thunder of this tale, it is stolen, with some flair, by Dan Stevens. Since quitting “Downton Abbey,” he has tried out one style of movie after another. He was a beefy killer in “The Guest” (2014), and the horned lead in “Beauty and the Beast” (2017). Only now, though, in the role of a Russian crooner named Alexander Lemtov—clad in shimmering brocades, and blow-dried to a feathery perfection—has Stevens discovered his calling. Alexander has a throbbing vibrato and a big thing for Sigrit. “You are beautiful and kind, I handsome and rich—this is typically vairy winning combination,” he tells her, proposing that she join him to forge a new duo. “I can throw in Fabergé egg, personal submersible, pet tiger.” When Eurovision comes storming back next year, that’s what I want to see. ♦


newyorker--2020-06-27--Donald Trump’s Big Problem with Senior Voters

The standard way of looking at Donald Trump ’ s narrow Electoral College victory , in 2016 , is through the realm of geography : by eking out victories in the Rust Belt states of Michigan , Pennsylvania , and Wisconsin , he overcame a deficit of about 2.9 million ballots in the popular vote .
This narrative is perfectly accurate , but it isn ’ t the only way to analyze what happened .
Another key to Trump ’ s success was his strong support among older voters , who tend to turn out in large numbers , despite @ @ @ @ @ @ @ electorate .
Among voters aged forty-four and under , Hillary Clinton bested Trump by fourteen percentage points , according to exit polls .
But Trump carried voters between the ages of fifty and sixty-four by eight percentage points , and voters aged sixty-five or older by seven points .
State by state , the numbers varied .
He led Clinton among voters aged sixty-five and over by four points in Michigan , by ten points in Pennsylvania , and by one point in Wisconsin .
Given the thin margins of victory that Trump @ @ @ @ @ @ @ seniors was essential to the majority he achieved in the Electoral College .
This year , retaining the support of seniors is obviously central to Trump ’ s reëlection chances .
But a number of polls released this week show that he has slipped badly in this key demographic .
According to a survey from the New York Times and Siena College , he is now running two points behind Joe Biden at the national level among voters aged sixty-five and over .
In Michigan , Pennsylvania , and Wisconsin , he is @ @ @ @ @ @ @ you compare the Trump-Biden matchups from the new Times surveys to the Trump-Clinton matchup in the network-sponsored exit polls from 2016 , the contrast couldn ’ t be starker .
In Michigan , Trump is now trailing Biden by twelve percentage points among senior voters , a swing of sixteen points relative to 2016 ; in Pennsylvania , he is behind by eighteen points , a swing of twenty-eight points ; and in Wisconsin , he is down by twenty-one points , a swing of twenty-two points .
Even allowing for some possible @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
And other surveys of the battleground states show a similar shift .
A recent poll from Fox News shows Trump trailing Biden by one point in Florida among voters aged sixty-five and over .
In 2016 , Trump carried seniors in the Sunshine State by seventeen points .
In North Carolina in 2016 , Trump carried the senior vote by twenty-three points .
The Fox News poll shows him leading Biden by just four points there .
At least some of Trump ’ s troubles with seniors appear to emanate from his @ @ @ @ @ @ @ has killed tens of thousands of elderly Americans .
In an Economist-YouGov poll that was released this week , sixty per cent of seniors said that protecting Americans from the health effects of COVID-19 should be the main concern , versus forty per cent who said that protecting Americans from the pandemic ’ s economic effects should be the priority .
Meanwhile , the researchers from the Times and Siena College found that fifty-six per cent of seniors in Michigan disapprove of Trump ’ s handling of the coronavirus , versus forty per @ @ @ @ @ @ @ fifty-three per cent disapprove , and forty-one per cent approve ; and in Wisconsin , sixty per cent disapprove , and thirty-seven per cent approve .
Numbers like these amount to a resounding vote of no confidence in Trump ’ s response to the virus .
It would be a mistake , however , to attribute all of Trump ’ s problems with older voters to COVID-19 .
In some places , there was evidence even before the pandemic that many seniors preferred Biden to him .
For example , the Times ’ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ which was carried out last November , showed the former Vice-President with a thirteen-point lead over Trump among seniors in Michigan , and a twelve-point lead among seniors in Wisconsin .
One of the strongest arguments for Biden ’ s candidacy all along has been his appeal in states that put Trump over the top in 2016 .
But there is also evidence of Trump slipping in areas where earlier polls showed him ahead of Biden .
For instance , the Times-Siena survey from November showed Trump leading Biden by ten points among @ @ @ @ @ @ @ version of this poll shows Biden well ahead .
Looking across all of the recent polls , a reasonable interpretation is that Trump ’ s mishandling of the pandemic has exacerbated seniors ’ concerns about his performance as President and made Biden look even more attractive by comparison .
The incendiary manner in which Trump responded to the wave of protests following the killing of George Floyd seems to have had a similar effect .
At the national level , according to the Times-Siena survey , fifty-two per cent of voters aged sixty-five @ @ @ @ @ @ @ response , and just forty per cent approve .
In some battleground states , the negative assessment of Trump ’ s response is even more striking , the Times polls found .
In Michigan , fifty-eight per cent of seniors disapprove .
In Pennsylvania and Wisconsin , sixty per cent disapprove .
It almost goes without saying that this new polling data is alarming for the White House .
But it is important to emphasize three other points .
There are still four months to go until the election ; polls provide a @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the latest surveys show that voters , including senior voters , still give Trump positive marks on economics , which will surely be a key election issue .
A CNBC All-America Economic Survey that was released this week shows Trump trailing Biden by nine points , but it also shows the President with a six-point lead on the question of which candidate has the better policies for the economy .
In the Times-Siena national poll , fifty-four per cent of seniors approved of Trump ’ s handling of the economy , and forty-two @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the battleground-state polls were similar .
The White House will take some crumbs of comfort from these findings .
But they don ’ t detract from the reality that , particularly in some of the states on which the election will hinge , Trump has a serious problem with a key voting bloc .
If he can ’ t significantly improve his standing with seniors , it will be extremely difficult , if not impossible , for him to craft even the slimmest of victories in the Electoral College .

The standard way of looking at Donald Trump’s narrow Electoral College victory, in 2016, is through the realm of geography: by eking out victories in the Rust Belt states of Michigan, Pennsylvania, and Wisconsin, he overcame a deficit of about 2.9 million ballots in the popular vote. This narrative is perfectly accurate, but it isn’t the only way to analyze what happened. Another key to Trump’s success was his strong support among older voters, who tend to turn out in large numbers, despite being a relatively small part of the electorate.
Among voters aged forty-four and under, Hillary Clinton bested Trump by fourteen percentage points, according to exit polls. But Trump carried voters between the ages of fifty and sixty-four by eight percentage points, and voters aged sixty-five or older by seven points. State by state, the numbers varied. He led Clinton among voters aged sixty-five and over by four points in Michigan, by ten points in Pennsylvania, and by one point in Wisconsin. Given the thin margins of victory that Trump enjoyed in these states, support from seniors was essential to the majority he achieved in the Electoral College.
This year, retaining the support of seniors is obviously central to Trump’s reëlection chances. But a number of polls released this week show that he has slipped badly in this key demographic. According to a survey from the New York Times and Siena College, he is now running two points behind Joe Biden at the national level among voters aged sixty-five and over. In Michigan, Pennsylvania, and Wisconsin, he is trailing Biden by double digits.
If you compare the Trump-Biden matchups from the new Times surveys to the Trump-Clinton matchup in the network-sponsored exit polls from 2016, the contrast couldn’t be starker. In Michigan, Trump is now trailing Biden by twelve percentage points among senior voters, a swing of sixteen points relative to 2016; in Pennsylvania, he is behind by eighteen points, a swing of twenty-eight points; and in Wisconsin, he is down by twenty-one points, a swing of twenty-two points. Even allowing for some possible polling errors, these are big differences.
And other surveys of the battleground states show a similar shift. A recent poll from Fox News shows Trump trailing Biden by one point in Florida among voters aged sixty-five and over. In 2016, Trump carried seniors in the Sunshine State by seventeen points. In North Carolina in 2016, Trump carried the senior vote by twenty-three points. The Fox News poll shows him leading Biden by just four points there.
At least some of Trump’s troubles with seniors appear to emanate from his handling of the coronavirus pandemic, which has killed tens of thousands of elderly Americans. In an Economist-YouGov poll that was released this week, sixty per cent of seniors said that protecting Americans from the health effects of COVID-19 should be the main concern, versus forty per cent who said that protecting Americans from the pandemic’s economic effects should be the priority. Meanwhile, the researchers from the Times and Siena College found that fifty-six per cent of seniors in Michigan disapprove of Trump’s handling of the coronavirus, versus forty per cent who approve; in Pennsylvania, fifty-three per cent disapprove, and forty-one per cent approve; and in Wisconsin, sixty per cent disapprove, and thirty-seven per cent approve. Numbers like these amount to a resounding vote of no confidence in Trump’s response to the virus.
It would be a mistake, however, to attribute all of Trump’s problems with older voters to COVID-19. In some places, there was evidence even before the pandemic that many seniors preferred Biden to him. For example, the Times’s previous poll of battleground states, which was carried out last November, showed the former Vice-President with a thirteen-point lead over Trump among seniors in Michigan, and a twelve-point lead among seniors in Wisconsin.
One of the strongest arguments for Biden’s candidacy all along has been his appeal in states that put Trump over the top in 2016. But there is also evidence of Trump slipping in areas where earlier polls showed him ahead of Biden. For instance, the Times-Siena survey from November showed Trump leading Biden by ten points among seniors in Pennsylvania, whereas the latest version of this poll shows Biden well ahead.
Looking across all of the recent polls, a reasonable interpretation is that Trump’s mishandling of the pandemic has exacerbated seniors’ concerns about his performance as President and made Biden look even more attractive by comparison. The incendiary manner in which Trump responded to the wave of protests following the killing of George Floyd seems to have had a similar effect. At the national level, according to the Times-Siena survey, fifty-two per cent of voters aged sixty-five and over disapprove of Trump’s response, and just forty per cent approve. In some battleground states, the negative assessment of Trump’s response is even more striking, the Times polls found. In Michigan, fifty-eight per cent of seniors disapprove. In Pennsylvania and Wisconsin, sixty per cent disapprove.
It almost goes without saying that this new polling data is alarming for the White House. But it is important to emphasize three other points. There are still four months to go until the election; polls provide a snapshot rather than a prediction; and the latest surveys show that voters, including senior voters, still give Trump positive marks on economics, which will surely be a key election issue. A CNBC All-America Economic Survey that was released this week shows Trump trailing Biden by nine points, but it also shows the President with a six-point lead on the question of which candidate has the better policies for the economy. In the Times-Siena national poll, fifty-four per cent of seniors approved of Trump’s handling of the economy, and forty-two per cent disapproved. The findings in the battleground-state polls were similar.
The White House will take some crumbs of comfort from these findings. But they don’t detract from the reality that, particularly in some of the states on which the election will hinge, Trump has a serious problem with a key voting bloc. If he can’t significantly improve his standing with seniors, it will be extremely difficult, if not impossible, for him to craft even the slimmest of victories in the Electoral College.


newyorker--2020-06-26--Trump Vows to Ban Coronavirus Vaccine If Obama Invented It

WASHINGTON ( The Borowitz Report ) —Donald J. Trump on Friday threatened to ban a coronavirus vaccine if it turns out that it was invented by former President Barack Obama .
Trump ’ s threat took members of the White House press corps aback , since there are no reports to date of Obama attempting to invent a vaccine or any other pharmaceutical .
Trump acknowledged that he was not aware of any such activities on Obama ’ s part , but warned that , if the former President succeeded in inventing a coronavirus vaccine , “ I ’ m @ @ @ @ @ @ @ “ If Obama came up with a vaccine , it would only be to make me look bad , ” he said .
“ Well , guess what ?
I ’ m not going to let him get away with something cute like that .
We ’ re going to move quite powerfully on anything Obama does in terms of a vaccine.
” Trump added that , if former Vice-President Joe Biden is elected President in November , “ It wouldn ’ t surprise me one bit if he approved a vaccine Obama @ @ @ @ @ @ @ “ Obama and Biden , they ’ re like two peas in a pod , ” Trump said .
“ If you want a vaccine , vote for Biden .
It ’ ll serve you right .
”

WASHINGTON (The Borowitz Report)—Donald J. Trump on Friday threatened to ban a coronavirus vaccine if it turns out that it was invented by former President Barack Obama.
Trump’s threat took members of the White House press corps aback, since there are no reports to date of Obama attempting to invent a vaccine or any other pharmaceutical.
Trump acknowledged that he was not aware of any such activities on Obama’s part, but warned that, if the former President succeeded in inventing a coronavirus vaccine, “I’m not going to let that happen.”
“If Obama came up with a vaccine, it would only be to make me look bad,” he said. “Well, guess what? I’m not going to let him get away with something cute like that. We’re going to move quite powerfully on anything Obama does in terms of a vaccine.”
Trump added that, if former Vice-President Joe Biden is elected President in November, “It wouldn’t surprise me one bit if he approved a vaccine Obama invented, just to spite me.”
“Obama and Biden, they’re like two peas in a pod,” Trump said. “If you want a vaccine, vote for Biden. It’ll serve you right.”


newyorker--2020-06-26--What to Stream: “The Killing Floor,” a Historical Drama of Racial Conflict and the Labor Movement

Filming history responsibly is one of the fundamental challenges of the modern cinema : How to reflect the gap of time separating filmmakers from the events they ’ re depicting , while still managing to depict those distant events with emotional immediacy ?
( These questions were of less concern in the era of classical cinema , when filmmakers took for granted their ability to represent all forms of experience , recent or ancient . )
Bill Duke ’ s first feature , “ The Killing Floor , ” from 1984 ( a digital release from Film Forum ) , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , bringing a straightforward story and a distinct historical period movingly , passionately to life .
To even say what the film is “ about ” is to get caught in its prismatic complexities .
It ’ s set between 1917 and 1919 and is centered on Frank Custer ( Damien Leake ) , a young black man from the rural South who , in the company of his best friend , Thomas Joshua ( Ernest Rayford ) , heads to Chicago by freight train in search of work .
( They know @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the First World War has left jobs to be filled , as men go off to fight . )
Finding cheap lodgings on the city ’ s South Side , they ’ re sent by a politically connected middleman ( Stephen McKinley Henderson ) to a meat-packing plant , where they ’ re plucked by a white foreman from a crowd of applicants and put to work—to the dismay of many white workers .
The industry is in the midst of a major unionization push , and black laborers had resisted joining , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ( which previously had excluded them ) , and for fear of losing hard-won jobs ( white employees fired for union sympathies had many more alternatives than black employees did ) .
Frank is energetic , perspicacious , and ambitious .
He wants , in the short term , to earn a better wage so that his wife , Mattie ( Alfre Woodard ) , and their children can afford to move north and live with him ; in the long term , he wants to master a trade with a promising future @ @ @ @ @ @ @ not hesitating to face down a white worker who menaces him with a knife .
Frank gets recruited for the union , and the shop ’ s head organizer , Bill Bremer ( Clarence Felder ) , teaches Frank to become a butcher .
His family is able to join him in Chicago .
But , after the war ends , soldiers return home to reclaim their former jobs , and black workers are the first to be laid off .
The meat-packing workers ’ union drive continues nonetheless—and laid-off black workers are @ @ @ @ @ @ @ in the hope of breaking the union .
The resulting tensions contribute to the Chicago race riots in the summer of 1919 , which has a devastating effect on Frank and his family , and on the entire South Side community .
A title card at the beginning of the film states that the story “ is based on actual events , ” and that the names of the main players have not been changed .
Many of them are officials of one sort or another , including the union leaders John Fitzpatrick @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Jack Johnstone ( Patrick Nugent ) , and their intricate set of motives , and political and social calculus , are built remarkably into the film ’ s action .
( A vast amount of research clearly went into writing it ; the unusual writing credits attribute the story to Elsa Rassbach , the adaptation to Ron Milner , and the screenplay to Leslie Lee . )
At the same time , “ The Killing Floor ” presents , in fascinating dialectical wrangles , the large-scale political events of the time : the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ peace among workers while protecting big-business interests ; the reliance of those interests on stoking ethnic divisions ( not just racial ones but also those between longtime citizens and recent immigrants ) ; and conflicts of class and culture within the black community .
It also depicts , in fine-grained yet high-relief detail , the widespread and unchallenged racism of daily life in Chicago and in the nation at large .
Duke ’ s directorial imagination endows the very act of historical representation with political power .
The entire movie is dramatized from @ @ @ @ @ @ @ appears in every scene .
The film also includes his retrospective voice-over narration , in which he analyzes the political and psychological aspects of what he learned from the events he lived through .
By telling the story with such thoroughgoing subjectivity , Duke represents history in the form of first-person experience—of personal memory that reflects collective events and , for that matter , treats the two domains as inseparable .
The movie contains an extraordinarily large number of scenes , many of them short—a mere wink of an event that proves to @ @ @ @ @ @ @ a wide range of settings , from homes and bars to streets and stockyards , meeting halls and government offices and the sepulchral menace of the meat-packing plant ’ s confines—never feel merely illustrative , or like dutiful translations of the script .
Whether brief or ample , intimate or teeming , each of them converges around Frank ’ s retrospective point of view , which Duke conveys by way of a distinctive visual schema : he films the scenes largely with a tableau-like frontality , trading Hollywood ’ s usual multiplicity of @ @ @ @ @ @ @ frame of reference .
Duke intercuts archival and newsreel footage into the dramatic scenes , and includes title cards listing the dates of the events in question .
These techniques serve , simultaneously , to set off the dramatizations as latter-day artifices and to verify them as authentic parts of the historical record .
The sense of authenticity in “ The Killing Floor ” arises , too , from the vividness and the veracity of the emotions—owing in large measure to the film ’ s performances .
There ’ s Moses Gunn , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ quick-witted Texan who invests his suspicions of the union and its white leaders with grand rhetorical power ; Mary Alice Smith , as Lilah Dean , a clothing-store owner who encourages Frank in his practical steps to advancement ; Felder , who , as Bill , is reminiscent of William Bendix in his embodiment of thoughtful pugnacity ; Woodard , who , as Mattie , puts Frank ’ s conflicts into the perspective of the family ’ s and the community ’ s future ; and Rayford , who , as Thomas , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ deep-rooted and righteous rage of tragic potential .
With “ The Killing Floor , ” Duke does more than dramatize a crucial historical moment and its critical conflicts of power .
He sets forth an original and fruitful template for the cinematic analysis of social systems and confrontation with history .

Filming history responsibly is one of the fundamental challenges of the modern cinema: How to reflect the gap of time separating filmmakers from the events they’re depicting, while still managing to depict those distant events with emotional immediacy? (These questions were of less concern in the era of classical cinema, when filmmakers took for granted their ability to represent all forms of experience, recent or ancient.) Bill Duke’s first feature, “The Killing Floor,” from 1984 (a digital release from Film Forum), displays an ingenious approach to the matter, bringing a straightforward story and a distinct historical period movingly, passionately to life.
To even say what the film is “about” is to get caught in its prismatic complexities. It’s set between 1917 and 1919 and is centered on Frank Custer (Damien Leake), a young black man from the rural South who, in the company of his best friend, Thomas Joshua (Ernest Rayford), heads to Chicago by freight train in search of work. (They know that the U.S.’s entry into the First World War has left jobs to be filled, as men go off to fight.) Finding cheap lodgings on the city’s South Side, they’re sent by a politically connected middleman (Stephen McKinley Henderson) to a meat-packing plant, where they’re plucked by a white foreman from a crowd of applicants and put to work—to the dismay of many white workers. The industry is in the midst of a major unionization push, and black laborers had resisted joining, owing to distrust of the white-led unions (which previously had excluded them), and for fear of losing hard-won jobs (white employees fired for union sympathies had many more alternatives than black employees did).
Frank is energetic, perspicacious, and ambitious. He wants, in the short term, to earn a better wage so that his wife, Mattie (Alfre Woodard), and their children can afford to move north and live with him; in the long term, he wants to master a trade with a promising future. He’s also courageous, not hesitating to face down a white worker who menaces him with a knife. Frank gets recruited for the union, and the shop’s head organizer, Bill Bremer (Clarence Felder), teaches Frank to become a butcher. His family is able to join him in Chicago. But, after the war ends, soldiers return home to reclaim their former jobs, and black workers are the first to be laid off. The meat-packing workers’ union drive continues nonetheless—and laid-off black workers are hired by the owners as scabs, in the hope of breaking the union. The resulting tensions contribute to the Chicago race riots in the summer of 1919, which has a devastating effect on Frank and his family, and on the entire South Side community.
A title card at the beginning of the film states that the story “is based on actual events,” and that the names of the main players have not been changed. Many of them are officials of one sort or another, including the union leaders John Fitzpatrick (James O’Reilly) and Jack Johnstone (Patrick Nugent), and their intricate set of motives, and political and social calculus, are built remarkably into the film’s action. (A vast amount of research clearly went into writing it; the unusual writing credits attribute the story to Elsa Rassbach, the adaptation to Ron Milner, and the screenplay to Leslie Lee.) At the same time, “The Killing Floor” presents, in fascinating dialectical wrangles, the large-scale political events of the time: the maneuvering of the federal government to maintain peace among workers while protecting big-business interests; the reliance of those interests on stoking ethnic divisions (not just racial ones but also those between longtime citizens and recent immigrants); and conflicts of class and culture within the black community. It also depicts, in fine-grained yet high-relief detail, the widespread and unchallenged racism of daily life in Chicago and in the nation at large.
Duke’s directorial imagination endows the very act of historical representation with political power. The entire movie is dramatized from the penetrating perspective of Frank, who appears in every scene. The film also includes his retrospective voice-over narration, in which he analyzes the political and psychological aspects of what he learned from the events he lived through. By telling the story with such thoroughgoing subjectivity, Duke represents history in the form of first-person experience—of personal memory that reflects collective events and, for that matter, treats the two domains as inseparable. The movie contains an extraordinarily large number of scenes, many of them short—a mere wink of an event that proves to have outsized importance. But such scenes—depicting a wide range of settings, from homes and bars to streets and stockyards, meeting halls and government offices and the sepulchral menace of the meat-packing plant’s confines—never feel merely illustrative, or like dutiful translations of the script. Whether brief or ample, intimate or teeming, each of them converges around Frank’s retrospective point of view, which Duke conveys by way of a distinctive visual schema: he films the scenes largely with a tableau-like frontality, trading Hollywood’s usual multiplicity of angles for the protagonist’s own frame of reference. Duke intercuts archival and newsreel footage into the dramatic scenes, and includes title cards listing the dates of the events in question. These techniques serve, simultaneously, to set off the dramatizations as latter-day artifices and to verify them as authentic parts of the historical record.
The sense of authenticity in “The Killing Floor” arises, too, from the vividness and the veracity of the emotions—owing in large measure to the film’s performances. There’s Moses Gunn, as Heavy Williams, a tough-minded and quick-witted Texan who invests his suspicions of the union and its white leaders with grand rhetorical power; Mary Alice Smith, as Lilah Dean, a clothing-store owner who encourages Frank in his practical steps to advancement; Felder, who, as Bill, is reminiscent of William Bendix in his embodiment of thoughtful pugnacity; Woodard, who, as Mattie, puts Frank’s conflicts into the perspective of the family’s and the community’s future; and Rayford, who, as Thomas, Frank’s best friend, conveys deep-rooted and righteous rage of tragic potential. With “The Killing Floor,” Duke does more than dramatize a crucial historical moment and its critical conflicts of power. He sets forth an original and fruitful template for the cinematic analysis of social systems and confrontation with history.


newyorker--2020-06-26--Hilton Als’s Homecoming and the March for Queer Liberation

In the summer of 1967 , a young black boy in Brooklyn was shot in the back by a police @ @ @ @ @ Als recalls the two days of “ discord and sadness ” that followed , and @ @ @ @ @ those demonstrations and this summer ’ s uprising following the killing of George Floyd .
@ @ @ @ @ sees an opportunity to reclaim the mantle of gay pride after New York cancels its @ @ @ @ @ explore the trauma of being released from jail for some mentally ill inmates .
The @ @ @ @ @ unrest in his neighborhood that followed a police killing in 1967 , and how they @ @ @ @ @ protests for racial justice .
The Pride Parade Is Cancelled , But Gay Pride Goes @ @ @ @ @ “ pinkwashing ” of the official gay-pride parade in New York organize a scrappier , @ @ @ @ @ some counties , prisons are the largest providers of mental-health care .
What happens when @ @ @ @ @ also their patients , are suddenly released ?

Illustration by Golden Cosmos
In the summer of 1967, a young black boy in Brooklyn was shot in the back by a police officer. The writer Hilton Als recalls the two days of “discord and sadness” that followed, and reflects on the connection between those demonstrations and this summer’s uprising following the killing of George Floyd. Plus, an activist group sees an opportunity to reclaim the mantle of gay pride after New York cancels its official parade; and we explore the trauma of being released from jail for some mentally ill inmates.
Hilton Als’s “Homecoming”
The writer recalls two days of unrest in his neighborhood that followed a police killing in 1967, and how they relate to today’s protests for racial justice.
The Pride Parade Is Cancelled, But Gay Pride Goes On
Activists opposed to the “pinkwashing” of the official gay-pride parade in New York organize a scrappier, more radical event.
Keeping Released Prisoners Safe and Sane
In some counties, prisons are the largest providers of mental-health care. What happens when their inmates, who are also their patients, are suddenly released?


newyorker--2020-06-26--A Conservative Upset in Mark Meadows’s Old District

This was not how the Republican runoff in the western North Carolina mountains was supposed to go .
Lynda Bennett , a family friend of the White House chief of staff , Mark Meadows , was Meadows ’ s pick to win his old House seat , in the state ’ s Eleventh Congressional District .
A businesswoman , Sunday-school teacher , and longtime Republican Party volunteer , Bennett was suitably conservative and boasted at every turn that she was “ pro-Trump.
” She had the backing of some of the most influential groups in Trump ’ s Washington , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Citizens United , and the American Conservative Union .
And she had the support of the President himself , who tweeted his endorsement and recorded a robocall for her .
But it didn ’ t work out .
A twenty-four-year-old candidate named Madison Cawthorn , who won ’ t reach the eligibility age for Congress until his birthday , in August , crushed Bennett , by a margin of nearly two to one .
Confident , engaging , and very conservative , he outworked Bennett and capitalized on resentment toward Meadows to win @ @ @ @ @ @ @ county commissioners , and former rivals .
The victory puts him into a November election against Moe Davis , a retired Air Force colonel and former chief prosecutor for the military commissions at the Guantánamo naval base .
Davis aims to become the first Democrat since Heath Shuler , a former Washington Redskins quarterback , to win the Republican-leaning district , which was recently redrawn to include all of liberal Asheville .
Cawthorn is no # NeverTrumper .
Far from it .
On Election Night , he reiterated his support for “ our @ @ @ @ @ @ @ “ the far left is lighting our cities on fire.
” A homeschooled football and basketball player who lost the use of his legs in a car crash , in 2014 , he sees “ the rise of socialism ” as the country ’ s No .
1 problem , and bills himself as a fighter who will “ take on the liberals in Congress.
” He told supporters , on Saturday , “ These far-left liberals , there ’ s no middle ground with them .
They don ’ t want us @ @ @ @ @ @ @ be able to have abortions whenever they want .
There ’ s not a lot of middle ground we can meet them on.
” The Eleventh District includes seventeen counties , most of which are rural , in the western tip of North Carolina , bordering three states : Tennessee , Georgia , and South Carolina .
After Republicans in the state legislature carved most of Asheville out of the district , in 2011 , Shuler , a conservative Democrat , stepped aside .
Meadows emerged from a career in real estate to @ @ @ @ @ @ @ becoming a founding member of the House Freedom Caucus .
He drew attention for opposing the Affordable Care Act , needling John Boehner , who was the House Speaker at the time , from the right , and pugnaciously defending Trump against impeachment .
Meadows announced , in December , that he would not seek a fifth term , and then stepped down , in March , to become Trump ’ s fourth White House chief of staff .
The timing of his announcement—the day before the filing deadline for primary candidates—left a @ @ @ @ @ @ @ saw it as an attempt to advance Bennett , a family friend with no elected experience .
Within hours of Meadows ’ s announcement , Bennett launched her campaign .
Politico reported that the campaign had created its Facebook page the day before , and that the campaign ’ s domain name had been registered in October by Meadows ’ s brother .
“ People felt like Meadows sold them out for Bennett , ” Chris Cooper , who heads the political-science and public-affairs department at Western Carolina University , told me this @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the runoff , answering reporters ’ calls and appearing on Fox News for upbeat interviews , Bennett was elusive , often ducking interviews , and she declined to debate Cawthorn .
A local newspaper accused her of stonewalling .
But her campaign Web site made plain her strategy .
The first image that appeared , on the home page , was a photo of Trump with both thumbs up , and the headline “ ENDORSED BY PRESIDENT TRUMP.
” Her endorsements , listed on the site , came from people outside the district @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Cruz and Right Women PAC , which is run by Meadows ’ s wife , Debbie .
To spread her message , Bennett posted Scripture on Facebook , along with short videos , including one on Good Friday , which endorsed the comment of a Republican candidate who called the State Board of Education “ the board of indoctrination.
” On policy , Cawthorn told me a few days before Tuesday ’ s balloting , “ There ’ s not a lot of daylight in between us.
” When I asked him about @ @ @ @ @ @ @ wheelchair back a few feet , turned sideways , pursed his lips , and mimicked her in a clipped , expressionless voice : “ First and foremost , I am a Christian .
My strength comes from the Lord .
I am endorsed by President Trump and endorsed by Mark Meadows .
If you ’ d like to see anything else , all my positions are on my Web site , and I look forward to speaking to you.
” To hear Cawthorn ’ s pitch , I drove through the mountains to @ @ @ @ @ @ @ campaign laid out a barbecue meal in a showroom connected to Overwatch Defense , a gun store .
The late-afternoon sun was blazing , with outdoor temperatures in the mid-eighties and little air moving inside .
Roughly a hundred people stood in line for food and sat together , talking and laughing , at folding tables draped with festive red and blue paper tablecloths .
There were no signs of social distancing , and no one wore a mask , although Henderson County was continuing to register new infections , and more than @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
I asked a participant about this afterward .
He said that he was healthy and unworried .
When everyone had finished eating , Cawthorn , smiling and energetic , talked about himself and the country .
He said that the COVID-19 shutdown , directed in North Carolina by Governor Roy Cooper , a Democrat , was “ completely politically motivated.
” He explained that he was happy to stay indoors for two or three weeks to prevent large-scale deaths , but came to question the longer-term strategy : “ I ’ m @ @ @ @ @ @ @ didn ’ t see bodies lying in the streets .
I wasn ’ t going to any funerals .
I really didn ’ t know anyone who had coronavirus.
” Cawthorn lit into “ the mainstream media and the far-left lefties , ” saying that they have worked to “ infiltrate all of our education systems to be able to just lay the groundwork and make fertile soil for them to sow the discord they want .
We all know they want us in a state of fear.
” He is recently engaged @ @ @ @ @ @ @ he said , and he wonders whether they will grow up in a world “ where they ’ re chastised for being Christian , one where they have a government that tells them what they can and can not do , one where they have to pay an eighty-per-cent tax rate , so they can give free stuff to all kinds of people all over the world.
” Turning to the widespread Black Lives Matter protests , Cawthorn focussed on episodes of looting , and said that the country has , for too @ @ @ @ @ @ @ system to raise our children .
That ’ s wrong .
I feel like we need a strong system of discipline inside our homes , because you ’ re seeing , right now , all these kids who have grown up not getting spankings and getting participation trophies going out and rioting in the street.
” Cawthorn , who is running in a district that is more than ninety per cent white , also described what he called an “ epidemic ” of fatherless homes .
He said that the American welfare system @ @ @ @ @ @ @ especially minority women , to not get married , and have more children , because they get more welfare checks because of that .
”

This was not how the Republican runoff in the western North Carolina mountains was supposed to go. Lynda Bennett, a family friend of the White House chief of staff, Mark Meadows, was Meadows’s pick to win his old House seat, in the state’s Eleventh Congressional District. A businesswoman, Sunday-school teacher, and longtime Republican Party volunteer, Bennett was suitably conservative and boasted at every turn that she was “pro-Trump.” She had the backing of some of the most influential groups in Trump’s Washington, including the Susan B. Anthony List, Citizens United, and the American Conservative Union. And she had the support of the President himself, who tweeted his endorsement and recorded a robocall for her.
But it didn’t work out. A twenty-four-year-old candidate named Madison Cawthorn, who won’t reach the eligibility age for Congress until his birthday, in August, crushed Bennett, by a margin of nearly two to one. Confident, engaging, and very conservative, he outworked Bennett and capitalized on resentment toward Meadows to win dozens of endorsements from local sheriffs, county commissioners, and former rivals. The victory puts him into a November election against Moe Davis, a retired Air Force colonel and former chief prosecutor for the military commissions at the Guantánamo naval base. Davis aims to become the first Democrat since Heath Shuler, a former Washington Redskins quarterback, to win the Republican-leaning district, which was recently redrawn to include all of liberal Asheville.
Cawthorn is no #NeverTrumper. Far from it. On Election Night, he reiterated his support for “our great president,” and said that “the far left is lighting our cities on fire.” A homeschooled football and basketball player who lost the use of his legs in a car crash, in 2014, he sees “the rise of socialism” as the country’s No. 1 problem, and bills himself as a fighter who will “take on the liberals in Congress.” He told supporters, on Saturday, “These far-left liberals, there’s no middle ground with them. They don’t want us to have guns. They want to be able to have abortions whenever they want. There’s not a lot of middle ground we can meet them on.”
The Eleventh District includes seventeen counties, most of which are rural, in the western tip of North Carolina, bordering three states: Tennessee, Georgia, and South Carolina. After Republicans in the state legislature carved most of Asheville out of the district, in 2011, Shuler, a conservative Democrat, stepped aside. Meadows emerged from a career in real estate to spend seven years in the seat, becoming a founding member of the House Freedom Caucus. He drew attention for opposing the Affordable Care Act, needling John Boehner, who was the House Speaker at the time, from the right, and pugnaciously defending Trump against impeachment.
Meadows announced, in December, that he would not seek a fifth term, and then stepped down, in March, to become Trump’s fourth White House chief of staff.
The timing of his announcement—the day before the filing deadline for primary candidates—left a bad taste among many Republicans, who saw it as an attempt to advance Bennett, a family friend with no elected experience. Within hours of Meadows’s announcement, Bennett launched her campaign. Politico reported that the campaign had created its Facebook page the day before, and that the campaign’s domain name had been registered in October by Meadows’s brother. “People felt like Meadows sold them out for Bennett,” Chris Cooper, who heads the political-science and public-affairs department at Western Carolina University, told me this week.
While Cawthorn welcomed attention during the runoff, answering reporters’ calls and appearing on Fox News for upbeat interviews, Bennett was elusive, often ducking interviews, and she declined to debate Cawthorn. A local newspaper accused her of stonewalling. But her campaign Web site made plain her strategy. The first image that appeared, on the home page, was a photo of Trump with both thumbs up, and the headline “ENDORSED BY PRESIDENT TRUMP.” Her endorsements, listed on the site, came from people outside the district, including the arch-conservative Texas senator Ted Cruz and Right Women PAC, which is run by Meadows’s wife, Debbie. To spread her message, Bennett posted Scripture on Facebook, along with short videos, including one on Good Friday, which endorsed the comment of a Republican candidate who called the State Board of Education “the board of indoctrination.”
On policy, Cawthorn told me a few days before Tuesday’s balloting, “There’s not a lot of daylight in between us.” When I asked him about her campaigning style, he rolled his wheelchair back a few feet, turned sideways, pursed his lips, and mimicked her in a clipped, expressionless voice: “First and foremost, I am a Christian. My strength comes from the Lord. I am endorsed by President Trump and endorsed by Mark Meadows. If you’d like to see anything else, all my positions are on my Web site, and I look forward to speaking to you.”
To hear Cawthorn’s pitch, I drove through the mountains to Hendersonville for his final rally. The campaign laid out a barbecue meal in a showroom connected to Overwatch Defense, a gun store. The late-afternoon sun was blazing, with outdoor temperatures in the mid-eighties and little air moving inside. Roughly a hundred people stood in line for food and sat together, talking and laughing, at folding tables draped with festive red and blue paper tablecloths. There were no signs of social distancing, and no one wore a mask, although Henderson County was continuing to register new infections, and more than forty people there had died of COVID-19. I asked a participant about this afterward. He said that he was healthy and unworried.
When everyone had finished eating, Cawthorn, smiling and energetic, talked about himself and the country. He said that the COVID-19 shutdown, directed in North Carolina by Governor Roy Cooper, a Democrat, was “completely politically motivated.” He explained that he was happy to stay indoors for two or three weeks to prevent large-scale deaths, but came to question the longer-term strategy: “I’m driving down the streets, and I didn’t see bodies lying in the streets. I wasn’t going to any funerals. I really didn’t know anyone who had coronavirus.”
Cawthorn lit into “the mainstream media and the far-left lefties,” saying that they have worked to “infiltrate all of our education systems to be able to just lay the groundwork and make fertile soil for them to sow the discord they want. We all know they want us in a state of fear.” He is recently engaged and hopes to have children soon, he said, and he wonders whether they will grow up in a world “where they’re chastised for being Christian, one where they have a government that tells them what they can and cannot do, one where they have to pay an eighty-per-cent tax rate, so they can give free stuff to all kinds of people all over the world.”
Turning to the widespread Black Lives Matter protests, Cawthorn focussed on episodes of looting, and said that the country has, for too long, “relied on the public-education system to raise our children. That’s wrong. I feel like we need a strong system of discipline inside our homes, because you’re seeing, right now, all these kids who have grown up not getting spankings and getting participation trophies going out and rioting in the street.” Cawthorn, who is running in a district that is more than ninety per cent white, also described what he called an “epidemic” of fatherless homes. He said that the American welfare system is “basically incentivizing young women, especially minority women, to not get married, and have more children, because they get more welfare checks because of that.”