newyorker--2020-07-08--It’s Been an Awful Week for the Fossil-Fuel Industry

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Sign up to receive future installments .
It ’ s been a truly awful few days for the fossil-fuel industry , which is another way of saying that it ’ s been an unexpectedly good few days for planet Earth : a trio of sweeping and unlikely victories have demonstrated the depth of great organizing and the increasing weakness of the industry ’ s hold on our political system .
First , on Sunday , Duke Energy and Dominion Energy—enormous Southeast utilities—announced that they were scrapping plans @ @ @ @ @ @ @ despite having invested $ 3.4 billion in the project .
They ’ d actually won a big Supreme Court ruling just weeks earlier , giving them the right to lay the pipeline beneath the Appalachian Trail—but that , executives from the two companies said in a joint statement , wasn ’ t going to be enough .
“ This announcement reflects the increasing legal uncertainty that overhangs large-scale energy and industrial infrastructure development in the United States .
Until these issues are resolved , the ability to satisfy the country ’ s energy @ @ @ @ @ @ @ : they were evidently rattled by a court order earlier this spring in the granddaddy of all pipeline battles ; a Montana federal court ruled in April that the Trump Administration couldn ’ t simply waive environmental laws to help the backers of the Keystone XL pipeline .
The Atlantic Coast Pipeline may have had Supreme Court permission to traverse the Appalachian Trail , but the companies must have realized that they were going to face litigation at every stream crossing along the route .
On Monday came the news that a federal @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Standing Rock and Cheyenne River Sioux tribes , who have been fighting the Dakota Access Pipeline .
In this case , the pipeline has already been built , and is carrying oil .
Stunningly , the court said that Energy Transfer , the company that developed the pipeline , has to shut it down and drain the crude within the next thirty days—an unprecedented blow .
The ruling will be appealed , and , if the company is lucky enough to draw some Trump appointees in its panel at the D.C .
Circuit @ @ @ @ @ @ @ But what a moment .
D.A.P.L .
had been the most iconic fight of recent years , with hundreds of tribes from across the continent descending on Standing Rock , at the confluence of the Cannonball and Missouri Rivers , to take a stand .
No one who was there in 2016 will ever forget the scene : the smoke rising from a hundred campfires , the nonstop ceremonies of prayer and drumming , and the incredible courage of activists facing militarized police forces that did not hesitate to deploy the tools in @ @ @ @ @ @ @ dogs biting peaceful protesters were straight out of Birmingham , circa 1963 , and a reason that the Obama Administration , in its waning days , put the kibosh on the project .
Donald Trump revived it immediately upon taking office , but the judge ruled this week that the haste with which the Administration pushed through the pipeline violated environmental rules , in particular because there was no study into the environmental impact of possible leaks on reservation water supplies .
Then , on Monday night , the Supreme Court let that @ @ @ @ @ @ @ meaning that the project can ’ t be built until much of the litigation is settled .
That process will take us well past the November election ; because Joe Biden has pledged to oppose Keystone , Trump ’ s defeat would mean a battle that has been fought for more than a decade would be over .
If it seems as if all the action around these cases is in court , it ’ s not .
The only reason that there were substantial legal challenges in the first place is because @ @ @ @ @ @ @ lawsuits .
In the case of the Atlantic Coast Pipeline , thousands of local and national groups have fought it at every turn—as Adam Siegel wrote for the Blue Virginia blog , “ Bit by bit , as opposition delayed fossil foolish infrastructure and political momentum swung ( especially in Virginia ) against them , the [ utilities ’ ] analysis made clear that going with lower-carbon options would provide a higher and lower risk return ( profit ) for shareholders.
” ( Or , as an activist tweeted , “ In case @ @ @ @ @ @ @ t matter .
.
.
this is a result of every tree sitter , each person who chained herself to a piece of equipment , sat at an air board mtg , blocked a site.
” ) That ’ s equally true in the Dakotas , where it has been made clear to anyone paying attention that indigenous communities are at the forefront of the fight for a livable planet .
And Keystone was where Native Americans , climate scientists , farmers and ranchers , big environmental groups , and activists all found @ @ @ @ @ @ @ These three announcements , in the span of twenty-four hours , are the payoff of a decade of endless hearings and petitions and trips to jail—a triumph against what seemed overwhelming odds .
They also show that , going forward , only the truly reckless will henceforth invest their money in giant fossil-fuel-infrastructure projects .
The victory here is measured not just in pipelines defeated but in pipelines and other projects that will never even be proposed , simply because it has been demonstrated that opponents have the resources—in bodies , in determination @ @ @ @ @ @ @ moral standing—to slow them down to the point where profitability becomes impossible .
Should Trump be reëlected , he may be able to help some of these giant projects hang on .
If he ’ s defeated , their lifeline will be gone , and with it a century ’ s worth of fossil-fuel expansion .
Pramila Jayapal is the first Indian-American woman elected to Congress—her district includes most of Seattle , including the area that was briefly an “ autonomous zone ” in the city ’ s center .
She ’ s @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , and I wanted to get her insights because , last month , a House Select Committee put forward the most comprehensive climate proposal yet introduced in Congress .
This interview has been condensed for clarity .
Let ’ s assume a Biden Presidency and a Democratic-controlled Senate and House .
Is there going to be sufficient gumption to move dramatic climate legislation through , or will the government be stuck in incrementalist mode ?
Right now we ’ re seeing a crucial awakening to many of our country ’ s foundational demons @ @ @ @ @ @ @ COVID-19 crisis , and mass uprisings against white supremacy have laid bare systemic anti-Blackness , deadly public-health inequities , and economic greed .
Incrementalism can not be the solution .
The structural inequities in our system are what allowed Trump to be elected in the first place ; our task in the new Administration must be to fix those holes urgently and transformatively .
Our movement will have to work harder than ever across silos to make the connections between climate , migration , health , and justice , so that we can @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , and leaving no one behind .
There ’ s been a lot of talk this summer about the overlap between climate justice and racial justice—the idea that vulnerable people can ’ t breathe for too many reasons .
Do you sense that bridges between those issues and caucuses are being built in Congress , too ?
The Congressional Progressive Caucus , which I co-chair , has long been the leader in advocating for intersectionality across multiple issues .
Ahead of the release of the report from the House Select Committee on Climate @ @ @ @ @ @ @ developed a set of recommendations for how to urgently tackle the climate crisis with a focus on jobs , decarbonization , and justice .
It is a testament to our inside and outside organizing work that many of our recommendations were included in the Select Committee ’ s report .
So we have started to build the bridges we need , but there is much more to do to take on money in politics and the status quo , which prioritizes corporate profits over the health and safety of our communities .

Subscribers to The Climate Crisis newsletter received this piece in their in-boxes. Sign up to receive future installments.
It’s been a truly awful few days for the fossil-fuel industry, which is another way of saying that it’s been an unexpectedly good few days for planet Earth: a trio of sweeping and unlikely victories have demonstrated the depth of great organizing and the increasing weakness of the industry’s hold on our political system.
First, on Sunday, Duke Energy and Dominion Energy—enormous Southeast utilities—announced that they were scrapping plans for the Atlantic Coast natural-gas pipeline, despite having invested $3.4 billion in the project. They’d actually won a big Supreme Court ruling just weeks earlier, giving them the right to lay the pipeline beneath the Appalachian Trail—but that, executives from the two companies said in a joint statement, wasn’t going to be enough. “This announcement reflects the increasing legal uncertainty that overhangs large-scale energy and industrial infrastructure development in the United States. Until these issues are resolved, the ability to satisfy the country’s energy needs will be significantly challenged.” Translation: they were evidently rattled by a court order earlier this spring in the granddaddy of all pipeline battles; a Montana federal court ruled in April that the Trump Administration couldn’t simply waive environmental laws to help the backers of the Keystone XL pipeline. The Atlantic Coast Pipeline may have had Supreme Court permission to traverse the Appalachian Trail, but the companies must have realized that they were going to face litigation at every stream crossing along the route.
On Monday came the news that a federal court had ruled in favor of the Standing Rock and Cheyenne River Sioux tribes, who have been fighting the Dakota Access Pipeline. In this case, the pipeline has already been built, and is carrying oil. Stunningly, the court said that Energy Transfer, the company that developed the pipeline, has to shut it down and drain the crude within the next thirty days—an unprecedented blow. The ruling will be appealed, and, if the company is lucky enough to draw some Trump appointees in its panel at the D.C. Circuit Court, it could be overturned. But what a moment. D.A.P.L. had been the most iconic fight of recent years, with hundreds of tribes from across the continent descending on Standing Rock, at the confluence of the Cannonball and Missouri Rivers, to take a stand. No one who was there in 2016 will ever forget the scene: the smoke rising from a hundred campfires, the nonstop ceremonies of prayer and drumming, and the incredible courage of activists facing militarized police forces that did not hesitate to deploy the tools in their anti-protest arsenal. The images of dogs biting peaceful protesters were straight out of Birmingham, circa 1963, and a reason that the Obama Administration, in its waning days, put the kibosh on the project. Donald Trump revived it immediately upon taking office, but the judge ruled this week that the haste with which the Administration pushed through the pipeline violated environmental rules, in particular because there was no study into the environmental impact of possible leaks on reservation water supplies.
Then, on Monday night, the Supreme Court let that Montana ruling on Keystone XL stand, meaning that the project can’t be built until much of the litigation is settled. That process will take us well past the November election; because Joe Biden has pledged to oppose Keystone, Trump’s defeat would mean a battle that has been fought for more than a decade would be over.
If it seems as if all the action around these cases is in court, it’s not. The only reason that there were substantial legal challenges in the first place is because of the epic organizing that preceded the lawsuits. In the case of the Atlantic Coast Pipeline, thousands of local and national groups have fought it at every turn—as Adam Siegel wrote for the Blue Virginia blog, “Bit by bit, as opposition delayed fossil foolish infrastructure and political momentum swung (especially in Virginia) against them, the [utilities’] analysis made clear that going with lower-carbon options would provide a higher and lower risk return (profit) for shareholders.” (Or, as an activist tweeted, “In case you thought that small actions don’t matter . . . this is a result of every tree sitter, each person who chained herself to a piece of equipment, sat at an air board mtg, blocked a site.”) That’s equally true in the Dakotas, where it has been made clear to anyone paying attention that indigenous communities are at the forefront of the fight for a livable planet. And Keystone was where Native Americans, climate scientists, farmers and ranchers, big environmental groups, and activists all found one another for the first time.
These three announcements, in the span of twenty-four hours, are the payoff of a decade of endless hearings and petitions and trips to jail—a triumph against what seemed overwhelming odds. They also show that, going forward, only the truly reckless will henceforth invest their money in giant fossil-fuel-infrastructure projects. The victory here is measured not just in pipelines defeated but in pipelines and other projects that will never even be proposed, simply because it has been demonstrated that opponents have the resources—in bodies, in determination, in legal talent, and in moral standing—to slow them down to the point where profitability becomes impossible. Should Trump be reëlected, he may be able to help some of these giant projects hang on. If he’s defeated, their lifeline will be gone, and with it a century’s worth of fossil-fuel expansion.
Passing the Mic
Pramila Jayapal is the first Indian-American woman elected to Congress—her district includes most of Seattle, including the area that was briefly an “autonomous zone” in the city’s center. She’s the co-chair of the Congressional Progressive Caucus, and I wanted to get her insights because, last month, a House Select Committee put forward the most comprehensive climate proposal yet introduced in Congress. This interview has been condensed for clarity.
Let’s assume a Biden Presidency and a Democratic-controlled Senate and House. Is there going to be sufficient gumption to move dramatic climate legislation through, or will the government be stuck in incrementalist mode?
Right now we’re seeing a crucial awakening to many of our country’s foundational demons. Trump’s Presidency, the COVID-19 crisis, and mass uprisings against white supremacy have laid bare systemic anti-Blackness, deadly public-health inequities, and economic greed. Incrementalism cannot be the solution. The structural inequities in our system are what allowed Trump to be elected in the first place; our task in the new Administration must be to fix those holes urgently and transformatively. Our movement will have to work harder than ever across silos to make the connections between climate, migration, health, and justice, so that we can push on all fronts simultaneously, powerfully, and leaving no one behind.
There’s been a lot of talk this summer about the overlap between climate justice and racial justice—the idea that vulnerable people can’t breathe for too many reasons. Do you sense that bridges between those issues and caucuses are being built in Congress, too?


newyorker--2020-07-08--Pence Accused of Taking Trump’s Coronavirus Tests for Him

WASHINGTON , D.C. ( The Borowitz Report ) —In a scandal that threatens to upend Donald Trump ’ s Presidency @ @ @ @ @ Trump of paying Vice-President Mike Pence to take his coronavirus tests for him .
According @ @ @ @ @ Swapping Swabs : Trump ’ s Pandemic of Lies , ” when the subject of @ @ @ @ @ first came up , in March , Trump started casting about for a “ good @ @ @ @ @ him .
Trump considered several candidates for the ruse , including his son-in-law , Jared @ @ @ @ @ General , William Barr , but ultimately settled on Pence , who agreed to take @ @ @ @ @ of twenty-five dollars per result .
Reportedly , Pence initially balked at the proposal , @ @ @ @ @ would look bad ” if the truth about his taking Trump ’ s coronavirus tests @ @ @ @ @ brusquely shut him down .
“ I ’ ve never taken my own tests , @ @ @ @ @ going to start now , ” Trump allegedly snapped .

WASHINGTON, D.C. (The Borowitz Report)—In a scandal that threatens to upend Donald Trump’s Presidency, a new book accuses Trump of paying Vice-President Mike Pence to take his coronavirus tests for him.
According to the book, “Swapping Swabs: Trump’s Pandemic of Lies,” when the subject of being tested for the virus first came up, in March, Trump started casting about for a “good test-taker” to substitute for him.
Trump considered several candidates for the ruse, including his son-in-law, Jared Kushner, and the Attorney General, William Barr, but ultimately settled on Pence, who agreed to take the tests for the fee of twenty-five dollars per result.
Reportedly, Pence initially balked at the proposal, expressing concern that it “would look bad” if the truth about his taking Trump’s coronavirus tests came out, but Trump brusquely shut him down.
“I’ve never taken my own tests, and I’m not going to start now,” Trump allegedly snapped.


newyorker--2020-07-08--Daily Cartoon: Wednesday, July 8th

Daily Cartoon: Wednesday, July 8th

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newyorker--2020-07-09--Your Fall, 2020, Pandemic TV Lineup

Your Fall, 2020, Pandemic TV Lineup

“ The Masked Singer and the Masked Judges and the Masked Crew and We Explored the Idea of a Masked Live Audience but Nixed It for Obvious Reasons ” As a safety precaution , contestants will no longer remove their anthropomorphic costume heads to reveal their B-list faces , which means that performers ’ true celebrity identities will remain eternally shrouded in mystery .
Sound unsatisfying ?
It is !
The Dozen Quarantine Rom-Coms We ’ ll Be Subjected To Twentysomething Mia breaks up with her live-in , graphic-designer boyfriend , Tom—but now they ’ re stuck in quarantine together @ @ @ @ @ @ @ one bumpy ride .
Meanwhile , Mia ’ s best friend , Amina , develops feelings for her roommate Trey .
But Trey has been exchanging messages with Josie over Hinge , and , though they ’ ve never met , Trey is certain that she ’ s “ the one.
” Also , it turns out that Josie ’ s brother .
.
.
is Tom , who is starting to wonder if maybe there ’ s still a spark with Mia after all ?
Or some forty-odd variations of that .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ returns via Zoom to perform a table read of a transcription of the docuseries “ Tiger King.
” Joe Exotic has been recast with David Spade .
The survival instructor and adrenaline seeker Bear Grylls is back with the ultimate survival challenge : staying indoors as mandated by government-issued quarantine .
Over the course of the season , Bear guides viewers through a series of survival challenges including how to outsource physical and emotional intimacy to your houseplants , whether or not you still have to make conversation with your roommate , and @ @ @ @ @ @ @ into months as you stare at your ceiling from the couch , wondering if this will ever end and you can just , like , go wander around a Target .
Perhaps , ultimately , the real battle is man versus .
.
.
himself ?
It ’ s been long enough that we figure we can just recycle this one , and basically no one will notice .
From the producers who brought you every iteration of “ The Bachelor ” and whatever ’ s on the CW these days , comes @ @ @ @ @ @ @ cutting-room-floor content to play absentmindedly in the background while you scroll the Internet .
You can expect acoustic pop covers !
Skyline shots of New York ; Los Angeles ; and Tacoma , Washington !
Waves crashing on the sand !
An extended accidental shot of craft services !
Actors well into their twenties attempting to pass for teen-agers !
A sporadic laugh track !
A scene that ’ s mostly blocked by a guy who stood right in front of the camera .
Is there a plot ?
Maybe !
Does it @ @ @ @ @ @ @ of the “ Zoom Table Read : The Cast of ‘ Tiger King ’ ” The cast of “ Zoom Table Read : The Cast of ‘ Tiger King ’ ” reunites for the first time in this special , hosted by Nicole Byer .
David Spade has been recast with Dax Shepard .
The producers of the smash hit “ Sounds & Images ” are back at it with “ Internet !
But on TV !
, ” a new thriller that takes viewers from the safety of browsing promotional e-mails to @ @ @ @ @ @ @ feed of an ex ’ s new flame .
Make sure to tune in for the season finale , which leaves viewers with the major cliffhanger : do you actually order that immersion blender in your online shopping cart ?
We ’ ll have to wait until Season 2 to find out !
It ’ s just “ Jeopardy , ” but the prize money has been converted from dollars to sheets of toilet paper at a one-to-one ratio .
We ’ re about there , right ?

“The Masked Singer and the Masked Judges and the Masked Crew and We Explored the Idea of a Masked Live Audience but Nixed It for Obvious Reasons”
As a safety precaution, contestants will no longer remove their anthropomorphic costume heads to reveal their B-list faces, which means that performers’ true celebrity identities will remain eternally shrouded in mystery. Sound unsatisfying? It is!
The Dozen Quarantine Rom-Coms We’ll Be Subjected To
Twentysomething Mia breaks up with her live-in, graphic-designer boyfriend, Tom—but now they’re stuck in quarantine together?! This is going to be one bumpy ride. Meanwhile, Mia’s best friend, Amina, develops feelings for her roommate Trey. But Trey has been exchanging messages with Josie over Hinge, and, though they’ve never met, Trey is certain that she’s “the one.” Also, it turns out that Josie’s brother . . . is Tom, who is starting to wonder if maybe there’s still a spark with Mia after all? Or some forty-odd variations of that.
“Zoom Table Read: The Cast of ‘Tiger King’ ”
The cast of “Tiger King” returns via Zoom to perform a table read of a transcription of the docuseries “Tiger King.” Joe Exotic has been recast with David Spade.
“Man vs. Indoors”
The survival instructor and adrenaline seeker Bear Grylls is back with the ultimate survival challenge: staying indoors as mandated by government-issued quarantine. Over the course of the season, Bear guides viewers through a series of survival challenges including how to outsource physical and emotional intimacy to your houseplants, whether or not you still have to make conversation with your roommate, and combating the existential malaise of days blending into months as you stare at your ceiling from the couch, wondering if this will ever end and you can just, like, go wander around a Target. Perhaps, ultimately, the real battle is man versus . . . himself?
“M*A*S*H” (1972)
It’s been long enough that we figure we can just recycle this one, and basically no one will notice.
“Sounds & Images”
From the producers who brought you every iteration of “The Bachelor” and whatever’s on the CW these days, comes more than eight thousand hours of never-before-seen cutting-room-floor content to play absentmindedly in the background while you scroll the Internet. You can expect acoustic pop covers! Skyline shots of New York; Los Angeles; and Tacoma, Washington! Waves crashing on the sand! An extended accidental shot of craft services! Actors well into their twenties attempting to pass for teen-agers! A sporadic laugh track! A scene that’s mostly blocked by a guy who stood right in front of the camera. Is there a plot? Maybe! Does it matter? Does anything?
Reunion Special of the “Zoom Table Read: The Cast of ‘Tiger King’ ”
The cast of “Zoom Table Read: The Cast of ‘Tiger King’ ” reunites for the first time in this special, hosted by Nicole Byer. David Spade has been recast with Dax Shepard.
“Internet! But on TV!”
The producers of the smash hit “Sounds & Images” are back at it with “Internet! But on TV!,” a new thriller that takes viewers from the safety of browsing promotional e-mails to the perils of scrolling through the Instagram feed of an ex’s new flame. Make sure to tune in for the season finale, which leaves viewers with the major cliffhanger: do you actually order that immersion blender in your online shopping cart? We’ll have to wait until Season 2 to find out!
“(You’re In) Jeopardy!”
It’s just “Jeopardy,” but the prize money has been converted from dollars to sheets of toilet paper at a one-to-one ratio.
“The First Annual Hunger Games”
We’re about there, right?


newyorker--2020-07-09--A Lighthouse for Magazines

A Lighthouse for Magazines

The most recognizable newsstand in Manhattan ’ s West Village , Casa Magazines , had been open every day for the past twenty-six years , without exception .
During Hurricane Sandy , in 2012 , when power went out , Casa ’ s owner , Mohammed Ahmed , and his employee , Ali Wasim , used flashlights to sell magazines and newspapers .
Their streak ended this May , when two plainclothes N.Y.P.D .
officers entered the shop and told Ahmed that he was in violation of the mayor ’ s executive order closing all nonessential businesses owing to COVID-19 @ @ @ @ @ @ @ representative that Casa qualified as an essential business back in March , when the city restricted nonessential retailers , Ahmed had kept his doors open .
Now the officers warned him that a violation of the order would result in a ten-thousand-dollar fine .
That same afternoon , Wasim closed the store , leaving behind a handwritten note taped to the storefront : “ Taking it day by day .
Thinking & missing all of you .
Please stay in touch.
” While the shop itself feels like a mere compartment , spilling @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Twelfth Street , to the West Village it is an institution .
For “ Westies , ” Casa is a clubhouse and a weekend confessional .
For destination tourists—that is , people who are not locals—it ’ s the only living shrine to print culture in New York City .
The shop ’ s closure came during a chaotic stretch for the media as a whole .
The downturn set off by the economic ruptures of COVID-19 disrupted magazine advertising and distribution .
For an industry already built on a fault line , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ triggering a slew of layoffs and furloughs in the face of budget reductions .
Independent publications like the California Sunday Magazine , which is sold by Casa , announced the end of their print editions , planning to move to digital only .
The turmoil has carried into July , as the national conversation on racial justice , following nationwide protests against the killing of George Floyd at the hands of Minneapolis police , cast a critical light on magazines led by predominantly white , and financially privileged , mastheads .
Few outside @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , for the past two decades , Ahmed has felt each vibration acutely , like a needle swinging a seismograph , recording as the magazine industry has shuddered and spiked toward a gradual decline .
While the shop stood lifeless in blustery May , I reached Ahmed on the phone .
Sixty-nine years old , he was at high risk for the virus and had left the city to stay with family in Delaware .
An immigrant , originally from Hyderabad , India , Ahmed did not waste his words as he explained @ @ @ @ @ @ @ playing in the background , that the shop ’ s future was directly contingent on the industry ’ s own fortunes .
He is searching for a large investor ( “ a big guy ” ) to come in as a benefactor .
“ Since 2010 , ” he said , “ business has been going down every year .
We were surviving , but now it ’ s very bad .
I don ’ t know how long until it goes back to normal.
” In just the past decade , Ahmed @ @ @ @ @ @ @ carries in the shop has shrunk by a third .
A thousand publications or more have disappeared in this time because , as he puts it , the world now prefers to “ look with its fingers.
” Ahmed recognized , without a trace of pity or gloom , that the industry was falling apart and shared no optimism that a recovery could take place .
It was , simply put , a fact of the situation .
At the end of the call , Ahmed asked if this story would be in @ @ @ @ @ @ @ sigh when I informed him that it would appear only on The New Yorker ’ s Web site .
“ I don ’ t like digital .
I like print , ” he noted again .
“ But send me a link.
” In the face of large-scale tragedy , magazines can be dismissed as trivial pursuits for a privileged sect of readers , which isn ’ t exactly off base .
But Casa ’ s steady existence is a kind of rebuttal both to this kind of thinking and to the logic @ @ @ @ @ @ @ shop inverts the hierarchical values of a magazine—that importance , taste , the promise of connection , and the creation of fantasy , and whatever else , flow from the top down to the rest of us—and suggests the opposite : it is people who confer value back to magazines .
A shop like Casa doesn ’ t sell fantasy , or truth , in print form .
Instead , it ’ s selling intricately designed and artfully produced excuses for people to step out of their lives and into a real community @ @ @ @ @ @ @ a living exercise in building the culture packaged in its magazines .
When the neighborhood first heard that the shop had closed , a GoFundMe page was quickly set up and small donations began to roll in .
Many were accompanied with messages describing the store as if it were a cherished friend .
“ Casa Magazines is the heart and soul of the West Village , ” one read .
“ Yes , it ’ s the wonderful newspapers and magazines they sell , some of which you will never get anywhere @ @ @ @ @ @ @ s the humor and warmth and wisdom of Mohammed and Ali that make it indispensable .
We can ’ t let them go .
We need them in our lives.
” There was a message from Luis , an M.T.A .
bus driver whose daily Midtown West route stops in front of the store : “ We love you all and stay safe !
!
!
” The page soon raised more than twenty-four thousand dollars toward Casa ’ s rent and utilities and supplier costs , with the rest covering Ahmed ’ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ While the shop was still closed , its Instagram account was busy with announcements and stories that urged followers to support not just the shop but its neighboring diner , Le Bonbonnière , with equal vigor .
“ Casa became a touchstone for people in the neighborhood , ” said Happy David , who runs the store ’ s Instagram account on her own time , between work as a jewelry designer and digital-marketing strategist .
Customers frequently take pictures with Ahmed and Wasim , as do the Village ’ s more famous @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , Sarah Jessica Parker , and Liv Tyler .
“ People tell Mohammed all kinds of things—if they ’ ve met somebody or if someone ’ s moved away or if they ’ re getting divorced , ” David said .
“ You see kids lining up outside just to talk to Ali.
” David , an immigrant who lives in Astoria , first started coming to Casa Magazines at the behest of her sister Tammy , who wanted magazines she couldn ’ t find in Manila , their home town .
“ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ for T Magazine , ” David explained .
Three years ago , she convinced Ahmed that he needed to be on social media to increase the store ’ s chances of survival .
I asked David if she thought print magazines were special in any particular way .
She answered that , when she was a girl in Manila , her mother would take her and her sister to a nearby newsstand to get international magazines .
“ My sister and my mom got me into magazines growing up .
I remember when @ @ @ @ @ @ @ George .
Being in Asia , magazines were our portal to the U.S. We could experience the same culture .
”

The Casa Magazines employee Ali Wasim says he wants to sell magazines until the day he dies. Photograph by Sabreen Jafry
The most recognizable newsstand in Manhattan’s West Village, Casa Magazines, had been open every day for the past twenty-six years, without exception. During Hurricane Sandy, in 2012, when power went out, Casa’s owner, Mohammed Ahmed, and his employee, Ali Wasim, used flashlights to sell magazines and newspapers. Their streak ended this May, when two plainclothes N.Y.P.D. officers entered the shop and told Ahmed that he was in violation of the mayor’s executive order closing all nonessential businesses owing to COVID-19. After being assured by a 311 representative that Casa qualified as an essential business back in March, when the city restricted nonessential retailers, Ahmed had kept his doors open. Now the officers warned him that a violation of the order would result in a ten-thousand-dollar fine.
That same afternoon, Wasim closed the store, leaving behind a handwritten note taped to the storefront: “Taking it day by day. Thinking & missing all of you. Please stay in touch.” While the shop itself feels like a mere compartment, spilling out of a wedge-shaped space on West Twelfth Street, to the West Village it is an institution. For “Westies,” Casa is a clubhouse and a weekend confessional. For destination tourists—that is, people who are not locals—it’s the only living shrine to print culture in New York City.
The shop’s closure came during a chaotic stretch for the media as a whole. The downturn set off by the economic ruptures of COVID-19 disrupted magazine advertising and distribution. For an industry already built on a fault line, the pandemic has exposed its precariousness, triggering a slew of layoffs and furloughs in the face of budget reductions. Independent publications like the California Sunday Magazine, which is sold by Casa, announced the end of their print editions, planning to move to digital only. The turmoil has carried into July, as the national conversation on racial justice, following nationwide protests against the killing of George Floyd at the hands of Minneapolis police, cast a critical light on magazines led by predominantly white, and financially privileged, mastheads.
Few outside the industry experience these tremors. But, for the past two decades, Ahmed has felt each vibration acutely, like a needle swinging a seismograph, recording as the magazine industry has shuddered and spiked toward a gradual decline. While the shop stood lifeless in blustery May, I reached Ahmed on the phone. Sixty-nine years old, he was at high risk for the virus and had left the city to stay with family in Delaware. An immigrant, originally from Hyderabad, India, Ahmed did not waste his words as he explained, over the sounds of his granddaughter playing in the background, that the shop’s future was directly contingent on the industry’s own fortunes. He is searching for a large investor (“a big guy”) to come in as a benefactor. “Since 2010,” he said, “business has been going down every year. We were surviving, but now it’s very bad. I don’t know how long until it goes back to normal.”
In just the past decade, Ahmed said that the number of magazines he carries in the shop has shrunk by a third. A thousand publications or more have disappeared in this time because, as he puts it, the world now prefers to “look with its fingers.” Ahmed recognized, without a trace of pity or gloom, that the industry was falling apart and shared no optimism that a recovery could take place. It was, simply put, a fact of the situation. At the end of the call, Ahmed asked if this story would be in print; he let out a conciliatory sigh when I informed him that it would appear only on The New Yorker’s Web site. “I don’t like digital. I like print,” he noted again. “But send me a link.”
Casa Magazines is a living shrine to print culture in New York City. Photograph by Gabrielle Plucknette
In the face of large-scale tragedy, magazines can be dismissed as trivial pursuits for a privileged sect of readers, which isn’t exactly off base. But Casa’s steady existence is a kind of rebuttal both to this kind of thinking and to the logic of all-controlling editors. Ahmed’s shop inverts the hierarchical values of a magazine—that importance, taste, the promise of connection, and the creation of fantasy, and whatever else, flow from the top down to the rest of us—and suggests the opposite: it is people who confer value back to magazines. A shop like Casa doesn’t sell fantasy, or truth, in print form. Instead, it’s selling intricately designed and artfully produced excuses for people to step out of their lives and into a real community. In many ways, Casa is a living exercise in building the culture packaged in its magazines.
When the neighborhood first heard that the shop had closed, a GoFundMe page was quickly set up and small donations began to roll in. Many were accompanied with messages describing the store as if it were a cherished friend. “Casa Magazines is the heart and soul of the West Village,” one read. “Yes, it’s the wonderful newspapers and magazines they sell, some of which you will never get anywhere else in NYC, but it’s the humor and warmth and wisdom of Mohammed and Ali that make it indispensable. We can’t let them go. We need them in our lives.” There was a message from Luis, an M.T.A. bus driver whose daily Midtown West route stops in front of the store: “We love you all and stay safe!!!”
The page soon raised more than twenty-four thousand dollars toward Casa’s rent and utilities and supplier costs, with the rest covering Ahmed’s and Wasim’s wages. While the shop was still closed, its Instagram account was busy with announcements and stories that urged followers to support not just the shop but its neighboring diner, Le Bonbonnière, with equal vigor. “Casa became a touchstone for people in the neighborhood,” said Happy David, who runs the store’s Instagram account on her own time, between work as a jewelry designer and digital-marketing strategist. Customers frequently take pictures with Ahmed and Wasim, as do the Village’s more famous denizens, like the actresses Julianne Moore, Sarah Jessica Parker, and Liv Tyler. “People tell Mohammed all kinds of things—if they’ve met somebody or if someone’s moved away or if they’re getting divorced,” David said. “You see kids lining up outside just to talk to Ali.”
David, an immigrant who lives in Astoria, first started coming to Casa Magazines at the behest of her sister Tammy, who wanted magazines she couldn’t find in Manila, their home town. “Everyone back in the Philippines always asks for T Magazine,” David explained. Three years ago, she convinced Ahmed that he needed to be on social media to increase the store’s chances of survival. I asked David if she thought print magazines were special in any particular way. She answered that, when she was a girl in Manila, her mother would take her and her sister to a nearby newsstand to get international magazines. “My sister and my mom got me into magazines growing up. I remember when my mom brought home a copy of George. Being in Asia, magazines were our portal to the U.S. We could experience the same culture.”
Days after I spoke with David, she texted to say that the shop had been approved to reopen by the mayor’s office. The sudden go-ahead from the city was the result of some frantic maneuvering by two West Village residents, James Reginato, a writer-at-large for Vanity Fair, and George Capsis, the C.E.O. of the neighborhood’s monthly paper, WestView News, who lobbied Corey Johnson, the speaker of the New York City Council, and Freddi Goldstein, the mayor’s press secretary, for help. “Mohammed was distraught after the cops barged in, and I was outraged for them,” Reginato told me.


newyorker--2020-07-09--“The Burning Bed” Recalls the Case That Changed How Law Enforcement Treats Domestic Violence

For thirteen years , Francine Hughes ’ s husband , James ( Mickey ) Hughes , beat her routinely .
Something as small as the inflection of a word would set him off : he ’ d pin her down in a chair and pummel her .
They divorced in 1971 , but , later that same year , he moved back in .
“ She did try to get away , ” her son , James Hughes , remembers in “ The Burning Bed , ” a new short documentary from Retro Report .
“ But he would also @ @ @ @ @ @ @ you can go , bitch , that I won ’ t find you.
’ ” One night , in 1977 , Mickey subjected Hughes to a particularly humiliating beating .
“ Smashing food in the kitchen , dumping out the garbage , rubbing it into my hair , hitting me , ” Hughes recalled in a television interview , years later .
“ I thought , I ’ m never coming back , never , and then I thought , Because there won ’ t be anything to come back to .
That @ @ @ @ @ @ @ burn everything.
” When Mickey fell asleep , drunk , that night , Hughes doused his bed in gasoline , lit it on fire , packed her four children into her car , and drove away as flames engulfed the house .
Hughes was then charged with the murder of her ex-husband .
Hughes ’ s story has been told before—the new “ Burning Bed ” documentary borrows its title from the journalist Faith McNulty ’ s 1980 book about the Hugheses and from the 1984 TV-movie adaptation , starring Farrah Fawcett .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ s case was .
Lee Atkinson , who was an assistant prosecutor in her case , says that , at the time , police officers would not arrest someone for a misdemeanor unless they saw the crime committed .
For Hughes , this policy meant that the police came to her house repeatedly and did not arrest Mickey .
“ Does she have bruises ?
Yes .
Does she look like she ’ s been abused ?
Yes .
The police will take a report , but they wouldn ’ t make an @ @ @ @ @ @ @ a time when the criminal-justice system failed to deal with domestic violence because—as an “ Evening News ” broadcast put it— “ traditionally , wife-beating has been considered a family affair , ” Hughes ’ s case initiated a sea change , forcing a long-suppressed conversation about domestic violence in America .
In interviews for the film , Hughes ’ s lawyer recalls that , because Mickey had been asleep , “ I did not think that I could convince the jury necessarily that she was not guilty because she was defending herself @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ” He invoked an idea that would come to be known as “ battered-woman syndrome , ” a term coined by the psychologist Lenore Walker , based on her research with abused women in the U.S. and the U.K. Walker identified an assemblage of psychological symptoms—fear , guilt , and denial—that occurs in victims of intimate-partner abuse .
This combination , which has since been classed as a form of P.T.S.D.
, can make discerning the level of risk in a given moment amid an ongoing pattern of trauma difficult .
The defense @ @ @ @ @ @ @ an unexpected victory for her and for the feminist movement .
The film follows the legacy of Hughes ’ s case , focussing on the ways that , despite changing the national conversation about domestic violence , her acquittal is still very much an outlier—the vast majority of women who kill their abusive partners are not acquitted .
The documentary moves forward to 2005 , when a Black Ohio woman , Thomia Hunter , was charged with the murder of her boyfriend .
( Black women are abused—and incarcerated—at higher rates than white @ @ @ @ @ @ @ against their abusers face an uphill battle in the courts . )
Hunter pleaded self-defense , having stabbed her boyfriend while he was choking her .
But she was found guilty and sentenced to fifteen years to life in prison , her history of abuse hardly addressed at the trial .
In interviews for the film , the prosecutors in the two cases—both white men—make similar arguments : abuse is horrible , but women have “ options.
” This claim reflects the view that people in abusive relationships can simply leave .
The @ @ @ @ @ @ @ perspective of Hunter ’ s lawyer , Tiffany Smith , who represents ten women who are incarcerated survivors of domestic violence , offers a corrective : “ A woman doesn ’ t go on a first date , get punched in the face , and stay with this person .
What happens is very calculating , very slow.
” For many women , the decision not to leave is another , paradoxical form of self-defense , Smith points out , and evidence shows that women leaving an abusive partner are “ more likely @ @ @ @ @ @ @ any other time.
” Last year , Hunter was granted clemency and released , after serving fifteen years .
Since the late nineteen-seventies , the number of women in the prison system has grown by more than eight hundred per cent—twice the rate of increase for men—and a majority of them have been victims of domestic violence .
Yet the options available to women for legally defending themselves remain dismally limited : as Elizabeth Flock demonstrated in this magazine earlier in the year ( “ How Far Can Abused Women Go to Protect @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Ground laws should , in theory , apply to women who kill their abusers ; in practice , however , such cases are far more difficult for women to win than men .
Mary Anne Franks , a professor at the University of Miami School of Law , argues in a paper titled “ Real Men Advance , Real Women Retreat ” that Stand Your Ground laws mostly benefit white males with guns ( as in the case of George Zimmerman , who shot and killed Trayvon Martin ) .
Men are seen @ @ @ @ @ @ @ use force .
Women ’ s self-defense , on the other hand , remains reliant for justification on the battered-woman syndrome that saved Hughes four decades ago .
Women who defend themselves , Franks says , are still treated “ as if there is something wrong with their brains.
” But awareness of how abuse can escalate is not pathological : three women in America are killed by a partner every day , and male partners are responsible for nearly half of the murders of women in the United States .
With these @ @ @ @ @ @ @ to assume that , for many women who kill their abusers , the alternative was to be killed themselves .
Toward the end of “ The Burning Bed , ” Hunter tells the filmmakers that she is sure that this would have been her fate had she not picked up a knife off the countertop and used it against her alleged abuser : “ I definitely take full responsibility for my actions , ” she says .
“ The only thing that I do know is that if I didn ’ t defend @ @ @ @ @ @ @ been me , not him .
”

For thirteen years, Francine Hughes’s husband, James (Mickey) Hughes, beat her routinely. Something as small as the inflection of a word would set him off: he’d pin her down in a chair and pummel her. They divorced in 1971, but, later that same year, he moved back in. “She did try to get away,” her son, James Hughes, remembers in “The Burning Bed,” a new short documentary from Retro Report. “But he would also tell her, ‘There is nowhere you can go, bitch, that I won’t find you.’ ”
One night, in 1977, Mickey subjected Hughes to a particularly humiliating beating. “Smashing food in the kitchen, dumping out the garbage, rubbing it into my hair, hitting me,” Hughes recalled in a television interview, years later. “I thought, I’m never coming back, never, and then I thought, Because there won’t be anything to come back to. That’s when I decided I would burn everything.” When Mickey fell asleep, drunk, that night, Hughes doused his bed in gasoline, lit it on fire, packed her four children into her car, and drove away as flames engulfed the house. Hughes was then charged with the murder of her ex-husband.
Hughes’s story has been told before—the new “Burning Bed” documentary borrows its title from the journalist Faith McNulty’s 1980 book about the Hugheses and from the 1984 TV-movie adaptation, starring Farrah Fawcett. The documentary emphasizes how groundbreaking Hughes’s case was. Lee Atkinson, who was an assistant prosecutor in her case, says that, at the time, police officers would not arrest someone for a misdemeanor unless they saw the crime committed. For Hughes, this policy meant that the police came to her house repeatedly and did not arrest Mickey. “Does she have bruises? Yes. Does she look like she’s been abused? Yes. The police will take a report, but they wouldn’t make an arrest,” he says. At a time when the criminal-justice system failed to deal with domestic violence because—as an “Evening News” broadcast put it—“traditionally, wife-beating has been considered a family affair,” Hughes’s case initiated a sea change, forcing a long-suppressed conversation about domestic violence in America.
In interviews for the film, Hughes’s lawyer recalls that, because Mickey had been asleep, “I did not think that I could convince the jury necessarily that she was not guilty because she was defending herself. So I used the temporary-insanity hook.” He invoked an idea that would come to be known as “battered-woman syndrome,” a term coined by the psychologist Lenore Walker, based on her research with abused women in the U.S. and the U.K. Walker identified an assemblage of psychological symptoms—fear, guilt, and denial—that occurs in victims of intimate-partner abuse. This combination, which has since been classed as a form of P.T.S.D., can make discerning the level of risk in a given moment amid an ongoing pattern of trauma difficult. The defense worked: Hughes was acquitted, in an unexpected victory for her and for the feminist movement.
The film follows the legacy of Hughes’s case, focussing on the ways that, despite changing the national conversation about domestic violence, her acquittal is still very much an outlier—the vast majority of women who kill their abusive partners are not acquitted. The documentary moves forward to 2005, when a Black Ohio woman, Thomia Hunter, was charged with the murder of her boyfriend. (Black women are abused—and incarcerated—at higher rates than white women, and those who fight back against their abusers face an uphill battle in the courts.) Hunter pleaded self-defense, having stabbed her boyfriend while he was choking her. But she was found guilty and sentenced to fifteen years to life in prison, her history of abuse hardly addressed at the trial.
In interviews for the film, the prosecutors in the two cases—both white men—make similar arguments: abuse is horrible, but women have “options.” This claim reflects the view that people in abusive relationships can simply leave. The truth is more complicated, and the perspective of Hunter’s lawyer, Tiffanny Smith, who represents ten women who are incarcerated survivors of domestic violence, offers a corrective: “A woman doesn’t go on a first date, get punched in the face, and stay with this person. What happens is very calculating, very slow.” For many women, the decision not to leave is another, paradoxical form of self-defense, Smith points out, and evidence shows that women leaving an abusive partner are “more likely to be killed immediately upon leaving than any other time.”
Last year, Hunter was granted clemency and released, after serving fifteen years. Since the late nineteen-seventies, the number of women in the prison system has grown by more than eight hundred per cent—twice the rate of increase for men—and a majority of them have been victims of domestic violence. Yet the options available to women for legally defending themselves remain dismally limited: as Elizabeth Flock demonstrated in this magazine earlier in the year (“How Far Can Abused Women Go to Protect Themselves?”), Stand Your Ground laws should, in theory, apply to women who kill their abusers; in practice, however, such cases are far more difficult for women to win than men. Mary Anne Franks, a professor at the University of Miami School of Law, argues in a paper titled “Real Men Advance, Real Women Retreat” that Stand Your Ground laws mostly benefit white males with guns (as in the case of George Zimmerman, who shot and killed Trayvon Martin). Men are seen as acting courageously and rationally when they use force. Women’s self-defense, on the other hand, remains reliant for justification on the battered-woman syndrome that saved Hughes four decades ago. Women who defend themselves, Franks says, are still treated “as if there is something wrong with their brains.”
But awareness of how abuse can escalate is not pathological: three women in America are killed by a partner every day, and male partners are responsible for nearly half of the murders of women in the United States. With these figures in mind, it is safe to assume that, for many women who kill their abusers, the alternative was to be killed themselves. Toward the end of “The Burning Bed,” Hunter tells the filmmakers that she is sure that this would have been her fate had she not picked up a knife off the countertop and used it against her alleged abuser: “I definitely take full responsibility for my actions,” she says. “The only thing that I do know is that if I didn’t defend myself that night, it would have been me, not him.”


Director’s Cut

This is the first story in this summer ’ s online Flash Fiction series .
You can read our Flash Fiction stories from previous years here .
Maček Smolansky was a filmmaker , entrepreneur , and philosopher .
But , above all , he was a perfectionist .
Which was why no one was particularly surprised when he announced that his new film , “ Life , ” would be shot on three cameras and would correspond , minute by minute , to a human life span .
Filming began with the birth of Mateusz Krotoczowski , the film ’ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ years .
On the set of the final scene , in which Mateusz hangs himself in his basement after being diagnosed with late-stage prostate cancer , the entire crew wept .
Not even the soundman ’ s desperate shushing could stop the tears .
Post-production took a hundred and fourteen years .
Maček died of old age a few months after it started .
Sound-editing continued for another ninety-six years , and still , when the film was released , there were several complaints on social media that it was rushed and sloppily @ @ @ @ @ @ @ were invited to the première , and the few tickets offered to the public were sold on the black market at exorbitant prices .
The film , as promised , was seventy-three years long .
When the closing credits rolled and the lights came on , the ushers found that , with the exception of one viewer , the entire audience was dead .
Most of them were giving off a pretty good stench .
Among all the decaying corpses sat the lone surviving viewer , naked and balding and sobbing like a @ @ @ @ @ @ @ falling , he wiped his eyes , stood , and walked calmly up the aisle .
This aging man was the son of a famous film critic , who hadn ’ t even known that she was pregnant when she sat down to watch the film .
He was born eight months into the screening and grew up in the dark cinema , transfixed by the screen .
When he opened the doors and stepped out into the street , he was blinded by the sun .
Dozens of reporters waiting outside the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ what he thought of the movie .
“ Movie ?
” he stammered , as he blinked at the sunlight .
All along he ’ d thought it was life .

This is the first story in this summer’s online Flash Fiction series. You can read our Flash Fiction stories from previous years here.
For Jess.
Maček Smolansky was a filmmaker, entrepreneur, and philosopher. But, above all, he was a perfectionist. Which was why no one was particularly surprised when he announced that his new film, “Life,” would be shot on three cameras and would correspond, minute by minute, to a human life span. Filming began with the birth of Mateusz Krotoczowski, the film’s introverted protagonist, and lasted seventy-three years. On the set of the final scene, in which Mateusz hangs himself in his basement after being diagnosed with late-stage prostate cancer, the entire crew wept. Not even the soundman’s desperate shushing could stop the tears.
Post-production took a hundred and fourteen years. Maček died of old age a few months after it started. Sound-editing continued for another ninety-six years, and still, when the film was released, there were several complaints on social media that it was rushed and sloppily done.
All the leading film critics were invited to the première, and the few tickets offered to the public were sold on the black market at exorbitant prices. The film, as promised, was seventy-three years long. When the closing credits rolled and the lights came on, the ushers found that, with the exception of one viewer, the entire audience was dead. Most of them were giving off a pretty good stench. Among all the decaying corpses sat the lone surviving viewer, naked and balding and sobbing like a baby. When his tears finally stopped falling, he wiped his eyes, stood, and walked calmly up the aisle.
This aging man was the son of a famous film critic, who hadn’t even known that she was pregnant when she sat down to watch the film. He was born eight months into the screening and grew up in the dark cinema, transfixed by the screen. When he opened the doors and stepped out into the street, he was blinded by the sun. Dozens of reporters waiting outside the theatre thrust microphones at him and asked what he thought of the movie. “Movie?” he stammered, as he blinked at the sunlight. All along he’d thought it was life.
(Translated, from the Hebrew, by Jessica Cohen.)


newyorker--2020-07-09--Donald Trump, President Winning-by-Losing, Is, in Fact, Losing

Soon after the Supreme Court ruled , on Thursday morning , against Donald Trump ’ s effort to stop a Manhattan prosecutor from obtaining his tax returns , the President lamented how unjust the decision was .
“ Courts in the past have given ‘ broad deference , ’ ” he tweeted .
“ BUT NOT ME !
” He elaborated : “ This is all a political prosecution , ” he said .
“ Not fair to this Presidency or Administration !
” POTUS is , as ever , a whiny loser .
His whinging , though , should @ @ @ @ @ @ @ yet again , has escaped to fight another day .
In a 7–2 ruling , the Justices , including two Trump appointees , reaffirmed the principle that no one , not even the President , is above the law .
But the decision allowed Trump to continue fighting in lower courts over the terms under which he must comply , a ruling that makes it all but certain that he will not have to turn over his tax returns before this fall ’ s Presidential election .
He may lament “ PRESIDENTIAL HARASSMENT @ @ @ @ @ @ @ once more managed to avoid having to produce information about his sketchy finances before facing voters .
Losing just might be a form of winning after all .
Sure enough , that was exactly what Trump ’ s advisers took to claiming .
“ This was a win for the President , ” the Administration ’ s press secretary , Kayleigh McEnany , declared from the White House lectern .
Asked about Trump ’ s angry tweets , McEnany simply dismissed them as “ general ” comments .
“ It is a big @ @ @ @ @ @ @ also saying , confusingly , that the President agreed with the dissenters in the case .
“ I would underscore the victory here.
” This is classic Trump Administration doublespeak .
Reality is whatever the Trumpians say it is .
The Supreme Court decision can be both terribly unfair and a great win .
And why not ?
Trump has made a career of turning bad news into good , of rewriting bankruptcies and divorces and unfulfilled promises into spectacular accomplishments .
After his Republican Party lost the House of Representatives , in @ @ @ @ @ @ @ a “ Big Victory.
” After the special counsel Robert Mueller submitted a report , in 2019 , documenting ten instances in which the President engaged in obstruction of justice , Trump called the report “ complete and total Vindication.
” But his problems now seem to be piling up , and I am not just referring to the question of when and how he will finally have to turn over his tax returns .
As the coronavirus surges once again across America , polls show Trump losing more support by the day @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Political Report issued its July Electoral College ratings and determined that , as of right now , the Presidential election looks like a “ Democratic tsunami.
” Even the reliably pro-Trump polling agency Rasmussen registered the President at the lowest approval level of his tenure , with just thirty-nine-per-cent support .
No wonder Trump is whining .
He is always about “ ME !
” The question of the moment is this : With Americans suffering so deeply from the pandemic and the attendant economic crisis , and with a national election to @ @ @ @ @ @ @ seventeen days away , can Trump pull off his most epic act of winning by losing yet ?
In her scorching new book , “ Too Much and Never Enough : How My Family Created the World ’ s Most Dangerous Man , ” Trump ’ s niece Mary Trump portrays her Uncle Donald as an abusive narcissist with a rampant and undiagnosed “ antisocial personality disorder , ” and she blames many of his evident character flaws on his father , Fred , a “ sociopath ” who withheld love from his @ @ @ @ @ @ @ small child .
It might seem contradictory—beyond even Trump ’ s standards—to claim in the course of a few hours that the Supreme Court had been wildly unfair to him and had also handed him a significant victory .
But his niece , who holds a doctorate in clinical psychology , shows that this has long been Trump ’ s way .
In the early nineteen-nineties , she notes , when his business was in “ increasingly serious trouble ” and banks were refusing to extend him any more credit , Trump found @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
“ Nothing was ever fair to him , ” she writes .
At the same time , Trump had to please his father by continuing to portray himself as a wild success .
The future President ’ s demanding patriarch would not accept anything less .
In the book ’ s particularly to-the-point conclusion , Mary Trump describes the “ toxic positivity ” that she says is his family legacy .
The President , in other words , is simply incapable of accepting a harsh or unpleasant reality .
He has no @ @ @ @ @ @ @ is winning for him .
It has to be .
This is also the strongly held view of various Trumpologists outside of his family , who have discerned in the President ’ s biography a long history of being unable to deal with truly negative circumstances .
“ He actually holds very few tools in his kit .
He ’ s not equipped for compromise or changing direction .
Indeed , he only knows how to move forward on the path he has determined , ” one of Trump ’ s biographers , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
“ This is why he got into trouble with his bankruptcies way back when—he failed to accept that he was a bad manager of complex organizations , and kept trying it until he was hemmed in by lenders who refused him further credit.
” Like Mary Trump , D ’ Antonio said he believed that Trump is incapable of processing bad news and dealing with it .
“ Letting in negative feedback is almost painful for him .
In fact , it almost seems to me like he either can not hear @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , the bad news that he should receive and then let guide him in making adjustments , ” D ’ Antonio told me .
The problem for Trump now is that , although his willful inversion of reality may work for him as a coping mechanism , it is wildly unsuited as a formula for governance , especially during a public-health crisis , when facts matter and spin is irrelevant .
The coronavirus pandemic and the recession are the ultimate bad news for a President who can ’ t bear it .
On @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Merkel , travelled to Brussels to speak to the European Parliament—her first appearance outside of Germany since the start of the pandemic .
As always , she was understated but unyielding .
“ You can not fight the pandemic with lies and disinformation , ” she said .
Here in Washington , where the grim march of the coronavirus is unrelenting , it sounded like a message aimed right at the man in the White House .
But President Losing-Is-Winning has an increasingly inarguable set of facts to wrestle with .
The U.S. @ @ @ @ @ @ @ in recent days .
The spike is sharp , and it is broad : the numbers are now going up in thirty-three states .
In some , the pandemic is spreading at an alarming rate : a rise of thirty-eight per cent in new cases in California this week , twenty-eight per cent in Texas , twenty-five per cent in Florida .
With more than a hundred and thirty thousand Americans already dead , a new projection this week suggests that more than two hundred thousand Americans will die of the coronavirus by @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Trump-friendly Fox News on Thursday was devastating .
It showed total cases , total deaths , and new cases .
Underneath the first two numbers was the phrase “ Most in the World .
”

Soon after the Supreme Court ruled, on Thursday morning, against Donald Trump’s effort to stop a Manhattan prosecutor from obtaining his tax returns, the President lamented how unjust the decision was. “Courts in the past have given ‘broad deference,’ ” he tweeted. “BUT NOT ME!” He elaborated: “This is all a political prosecution,” he said. “Not fair to this Presidency or Administration!” POTUS is, as ever, a whiny loser.
His whinging, though, should not obscure the fact that Trump, yet again, has escaped to fight another day. In a 7–2 ruling, the Justices, including two Trump appointees, reaffirmed the principle that no one, not even the President, is above the law. But the decision allowed Trump to continue fighting in lower courts over the terms under which he must comply, a ruling that makes it all but certain that he will not have to turn over his tax returns before this fall’s Presidential election. He may lament “PRESIDENTIAL HARASSMENT,” but Trump seems to have once more managed to avoid having to produce information about his sketchy finances before facing voters. Losing just might be a form of winning after all. Sure enough, that was exactly what Trump’s advisers took to claiming. “This was a win for the President,” the Administration’s press secretary, Kayleigh McEnany, declared from the White House lectern. Asked about Trump’s angry tweets, McEnany simply dismissed them as “general” comments. “It is a big win,” she added, before also saying, confusingly, that the President agreed with the dissenters in the case. “I would underscore the victory here.”
This is classic Trump Administration doublespeak. Reality is whatever the Trumpians say it is. The Supreme Court decision can be both terribly unfair and a great win. And why not? Trump has made a career of turning bad news into good, of rewriting bankruptcies and divorces and unfulfilled promises into spectacular accomplishments. After his Republican Party lost the House of Representatives, in 2018, Trump called the midterm-election results a “Big Victory.” After the special counsel Robert Mueller submitted a report, in 2019, documenting ten instances in which the President engaged in obstruction of justice, Trump called the report “complete and total Vindication.” But his problems now seem to be piling up, and I am not just referring to the question of when and how he will finally have to turn over his tax returns. As the coronavirus surges once again across America, polls show Trump losing more support by the day. This week, the nonpartisan Cook Political Report issued its July Electoral College ratings and determined that, as of right now, the Presidential election looks like a “Democratic tsunami.” Even the reliably pro-Trump polling agency Rasmussen registered the President at the lowest approval level of his tenure, with just thirty-nine-per-cent support. No wonder Trump is whining. He is always about “ME!” The question of the moment is this: With Americans suffering so deeply from the pandemic and the attendant economic crisis, and with a national election to decide his fate only a hundred and seventeen days away, can Trump pull off his most epic act of winning by losing yet?
In her scorching new book, “Too Much and Never Enough: How My Family Created the World’s Most Dangerous Man,” Trump’s niece Mary Trump portrays her Uncle Donald as an abusive narcissist with a rampant and undiagnosed “antisocial personality disorder,” and she blames many of his evident character flaws on his father, Fred, a “sociopath” who withheld love from his son when he needed it most—as a small child. It might seem contradictory—beyond even Trump’s standards—to claim in the course of a few hours that the Supreme Court had been wildly unfair to him and had also handed him a significant victory. But his niece, who holds a doctorate in clinical psychology, shows that this has long been Trump’s way. In the early nineteen-nineties, she notes, when his business was in “increasingly serious trouble” and banks were refusing to extend him any more credit, Trump found a long list of others to blame. “Nothing was ever fair to him,” she writes. At the same time, Trump had to please his father by continuing to portray himself as a wild success. The future President’s demanding patriarch would not accept anything less. In the book’s particularly to-the-point conclusion, Mary Trump describes the “toxic positivity” that she says is his family legacy. The President, in other words, is simply incapable of accepting a harsh or unpleasant reality. He has no choice but to deny it. Losing is winning for him. It has to be.
This is also the strongly held view of various Trumpologists outside of his family, who have discerned in the President’s biography a long history of being unable to deal with truly negative circumstances. “He actually holds very few tools in his kit. He’s not equipped for compromise or changing direction. Indeed, he only knows how to move forward on the path he has determined,” one of Trump’s biographers, Michael D’Antonio, told me. “This is why he got into trouble with his bankruptcies way back when—he failed to accept that he was a bad manager of complex organizations, and kept trying it until he was hemmed in by lenders who refused him further credit.” Like Mary Trump, D’Antonio said he believed that Trump is incapable of processing bad news and dealing with it. “Letting in negative feedback is almost painful for him. In fact, it almost seems to me like he either cannot hear, or really hold in his mind, the bad news that he should receive and then let guide him in making adjustments,” D’Antonio told me.
The problem for Trump now is that, although his willful inversion of reality may work for him as a coping mechanism, it is wildly unsuited as a formula for governance, especially during a public-health crisis, when facts matter and spin is irrelevant. The coronavirus pandemic and the recession are the ultimate bad news for a President who can’t bear it. On Wednesday, the German Chancellor, Angela Merkel, travelled to Brussels to speak to the European Parliament—her first appearance outside of Germany since the start of the pandemic. As always, she was understated but unyielding. “You cannot fight the pandemic with lies and disinformation,” she said. Here in Washington, where the grim march of the coronavirus is unrelenting, it sounded like a message aimed right at the man in the White House.
But President Losing-Is-Winning has an increasingly inarguable set of facts to wrestle with. The U.S. has repeatedly set records for new cases in recent days. The spike is sharp, and it is broad: the numbers are now going up in thirty-three states. In some, the pandemic is spreading at an alarming rate: a rise of thirty-eight per cent in new cases in California this week, twenty-eight per cent in Texas, twenty-five per cent in Florida. With more than a hundred and thirty thousand Americans already dead, a new projection this week suggests that more than two hundred thousand Americans will die of the coronavirus by November. Even a graphic on the Trump-friendly Fox News on Thursday was devastating. It showed total cases, total deaths, and new cases. Underneath the first two numbers was the phrase “Most in the World.”
On Thursday morning, shortly before the Supreme Court ruling, Trump contended, as he does daily, that the rise in cases is merely a result of an increase in testing. Of course, his sheer repetition of this falsehood does not make it true. As large swaths of the country find themselves dealing with panicking doctors and packed I.C.U.s and the dawning recognition that now is not the time to reopen bars and nail salons and amusement parks, Trump has, in recent days, claimed that “ninety-ninety per cent of cases” are mild, that the virus is no big deal, and that a cure is coming very soon. This spring, he successfully politicized the wearing of masks. This week, he began a new campaign to politicize the reopening of schools. He not only insisted that American schools reopen, regardless of concerns about safety, but threatened to withhold federal funding from them unless they do so.
This is exactly what Merkel was talking about. Trump and his Administration did not just get the coronavirus wrong. They lied. They spread disinformation. And they are still doing so. Perhaps—although the polls do not reflect it, and despite history suggesting that a comeback for him is unlikely—the President sees political advantage in this misinformation campaign. But there is no such thing as winning by losing against a deadly disease. Trump can still pull out a victory in the election. He has, however, already been defeated by the pandemic. We are all losers now.


newyorker--2020-07-09--The Supreme Court Teaches Trump the Limits of His Presidency

In two linked decisions handed down on Thursday morning , both decided by a vote of 7–2 , the Supreme Court made it clear to Donald Trump that the Presidency is not what he imagines it to be .
It is not a ticket to “ absolute immunity , ” as he and his lawyers asserted , and it is not the case , as he put it in one of a string of furious tweets in the wake of the rulings , that “ Courts in the past have given ‘ broad deference.
’ BUT NOT ME !
” @ @ @ @ @ @ @ shock to Trump , being President does not mean that he can simply rip up subpoenas he doesn ’ t like .
The Presidency is an office embedded in the obligations of citizenship and the restraints of the Constitution .
The two decisions , Trump v. Mazars and Trump v. Vance , which relate to attempts by three congressional committees and Manhattan ’ s District Attorney , Cyrus Vance , Jr. , respectively , to gain access to Trump ’ s tax and financial records , won ’ t result in those documents @ @ @ @ @ @ @ send the cases back to lower courts .
The additional litigation could take months , extending beyond the election .
The timing will be a disappointment to many observers , given the high odds that the documents contain information that could unsettle even Trump ’ s supporters .
( Of course , it ’ s not as though there ’ s a shortage of reasons to vote against him , particularly given his handling of the COVID-19 crisis . )
But the decisions nonetheless represent victories ; they indicate that Trump has not @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the limits that the Constitution places on it .
For one thing , given how weak the President ’ s attorneys ’ arguments have been , there ’ s a fair chance that many of the records will come to light , at least eventually .
For another , Trump ’ s lawyers can ’ t again argue , as one of them did when Trump v. Vance was last in the lower courts , that the President could indeed shoot someone in the middle of Fifth Avenue , and law enforcement wouldn @ @ @ @ @ @ @ about it .
On the question of absolute immunity , which was addressed most clearly in Vance , Trump ’ s loss was even greater than the 7–2 margin implies .
Four Justices wrote opinions ; the controlling decision , written by Chief Justice John Roberts and joined by Justices Stephen Breyer , Ruth Bader Ginsburg , Elena Kagan , and Sonia Sotomayor , rejected Trump ’ s position “ that absolute immunity is necessary or appropriate under Article II or the Supremacy Clause ” from the outset .
But so did the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Kavanaugh wrote a concurring opinion that was marginally more sympathetic to Trump but nonetheless agreed “ that a President does not possess absolute immunity from a state criminal subpoena.
” Neil Gorsuch joined that opinion .
Clarence Thomas and Samuel Alito , each of whom wrote a separate dissent , rejected absolute immunity , too , though somewhat grudgingly in Alito ’ s case .
( Both Justices would still make it harder than the majority would for the President to be subpoenaed . )
As Roberts wrote , “ on that point @ @ @ @ @ @ @ agreement is a measure of Trump ’ s extremism .
It also means that he will have to find actual legal grounds for arguing against the subpoenas when they return to the lower courts .
The Justices did not rule out the possibility that such grounds may exist .
In the Vance case , which grew out of an investigation into Trump ’ s alleged hush-money payments to Stephanie Clifford , the adult-film actress known as Stormy Daniels—which may involve violations of campaign-finance and tax laws—Roberts wrote that “ no citizen , not @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the common duty to produce evidence when called upon in a criminal proceeding.
” Roberts also rejected the President ’ s lawyers ’ backup argument that , even if there wasn ’ t “ absolute immunity , ” subpoenas directed at the President had to be limited by a “ heightened standard of need.
” But Roberts pointed out that any President still has protections , including the ability to “ raise subpoena-specific constitutional challenges.
” Some of these may be related to the fact that he or she is , indeed , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ that a subpoena is an attempt to “ influence the performance of his official duties.
” In that sense , Roberts wrote , Trump is not “ ‘ relegate [ d ] ’ only to the challenges available to private citizens.
” Still , some of the more significant protections against prosecutorial overreach exist , Roberts noted , not because Trump has rights that are so different from those of ordinary citizens but because he has the same rights that they do : “ These include the right to challenge the subpoena on @ @ @ @ @ @ @ grounds , such as due process , or state-based protections involving “ bad faith and undue burden or breadth.
” Indeed , Trump ’ s demands for immunity reveal a contempt for an ordinary citizen ’ s rights that is disturbing in itself : he doesn ’ t seem to have much respect for what the Constitution offers Americans .
( Alito , arguably the furthest-right Justice , revealed the same bias when he argued , in his dissent , that the normal limits on state proceedings offer only “ meager defenses , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ for a President . )
There have been cases similar to Vance before , in which Presidents have been asked for evidence : Thomas Jefferson , in the treason trial of Aaron Burr ; Richard Nixon , in the investigation of Watergate conspirators ; Gerald Ford , in the trial of Lynette ( Squeaky ) Fromme , who tried to assassinate him ; and Bill Clinton , in a civil suit brought by Paula Jones .
The clear record in all of them is that Presidents need to give evidence when it is @ @ @ @ @ @ @ had said that Vance is different because it is a state criminal proceeding ; they invoked the image of endless local prosecutors trying to “ harass ” the President .
The majority didn ’ t see how that prospect fundamentally changes the constitutional stakes .
The other case , Trump v. Mazars , involves a different set of considerations .
( Mazars is the name of the accounting firm that has physical possession of many Trump records ; Deutsche Bank was also subpoenaed , in a case combined with this one . )
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ records , along with those of some of his family members and businesses , were not doing so as part of a criminal case .
Nor were they doing so as part of an impeachment proceeding , although some in Congress no doubt hoped that what was revealed might lead to investigations with consequences for Trump .
Instead , the committees argued that they need Trump ’ s financial records to help them determine whether future legislation might be necessary—for example , to better prosecute money laundering , or to prevent the use @ @ @ @ @ @ @ disclose the financial connections between a Presidential candidate and foreign governments or businesses .
The committees took this approach because Congress does have broad subpoena power when it comes to figuring out how to write laws .
Roberts also wrote the Mazars decision , which all the Justices except Thomas and Alito fully signed on to , and in it he noted that Trump argued “ that the usual rules for congressional subpoenas do not govern here because the President ’ s papers are at issue.
” In reality , Roberts wrote , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ drawing a President , and his papers , into its legislative inquiries .
But the majority also concluded that the House committees had gone too far in their arguments , leaving “ essentially no limits ” on their power of subpoena .
After all , anything and everything could potentially relate to future legislation : “ The President ’ s financial records could relate to economic reform , medical records to health reform , school transcripts to education reform , and so on .
”

In two linked decisions handed down on Thursday morning, both decided by a vote of 7–2, the Supreme Court made it clear to Donald Trump that the Presidency is not what he imagines it to be. It is not a ticket to “absolute immunity,” as he and his lawyers asserted, and it is not the case, as he put it in one of a string of furious tweets in the wake of the rulings, that “Courts in the past have given ‘broad deference.’ BUT NOT ME!” Though it may come as an all-caps shock to Trump, being President does not mean that he can simply rip up subpoenas he doesn’t like. The Presidency is an office embedded in the obligations of citizenship and the restraints of the Constitution.
The two decisions, Trump v. Mazars and Trump v. Vance, which relate to attempts by three congressional committees and Manhattan’s District Attorney, Cyrus Vance, Jr., respectively, to gain access to Trump’s tax and financial records, won’t result in those documents being released immediately; instead, they send the cases back to lower courts. The additional litigation could take months, extending beyond the election. The timing will be a disappointment to many observers, given the high odds that the documents contain information that could unsettle even Trump’s supporters. (Of course, it’s not as though there’s a shortage of reasons to vote against him, particularly given his handling of the COVID-19 crisis.) But the decisions nonetheless represent victories; they indicate that Trump has not entirely disfigured the Presidency, nor erased the limits that the Constitution places on it. For one thing, given how weak the President’s attorneys’ arguments have been, there’s a fair chance that many of the records will come to light, at least eventually. For another, Trump’s lawyers can’t again argue, as one of them did when Trump v. Vance was last in the lower courts, that the President could indeed shoot someone in the middle of Fifth Avenue, and law enforcement wouldn’t be able to do much about it.
On the question of absolute immunity, which was addressed most clearly in Vance, Trump’s loss was even greater than the 7–2 margin implies. Four Justices wrote opinions; the controlling decision, written by Chief Justice John Roberts and joined by Justices Stephen Breyer, Ruth Bader Ginsburg, Elena Kagan, and Sonia Sotomayor, rejected Trump’s position “that absolute immunity is necessary or appropriate under Article II or the Supremacy Clause” from the outset. But so did the President’s two appointees: Brett Kavanaugh wrote a concurring opinion that was marginally more sympathetic to Trump but nonetheless agreed “that a President does not possess absolute immunity from a state criminal subpoena.” Neil Gorsuch joined that opinion. Clarence Thomas and Samuel Alito, each of whom wrote a separate dissent, rejected absolute immunity, too, though somewhat grudgingly in Alito’s case. (Both Justices would still make it harder than the majority would for the President to be subpoenaed.) As Roberts wrote, “on that point, the court is unanimous.” That agreement is a measure of Trump’s extremism. It also means that he will have to find actual legal grounds for arguing against the subpoenas when they return to the lower courts.
The Justices did not rule out the possibility that such grounds may exist. In the Vance case, which grew out of an investigation into Trump’s alleged hush-money payments to Stephanie Clifford, the adult-film actress known as Stormy Daniels—which may involve violations of campaign-finance and tax laws—Roberts wrote that “no citizen, not even the President, is categorically above the common duty to produce evidence when called upon in a criminal proceeding.” Roberts also rejected the President’s lawyers’ backup argument that, even if there wasn’t “absolute immunity,” subpoenas directed at the President had to be limited by a “heightened standard of need.” But Roberts pointed out that any President still has protections, including the ability to “raise subpoena-specific constitutional challenges.” Some of these may be related to the fact that he or she is, indeed, President—for example, a President could argue that a subpoena is an attempt to “influence the performance of his official duties.” In that sense, Roberts wrote, Trump is not “ ‘relegate[d]’ only to the challenges available to private citizens.”
Still, some of the more significant protections against prosecutorial overreach exist, Roberts noted, not because Trump has rights that are so different from those of ordinary citizens but because he has the same rights that they do: “These include the right to challenge the subpoena on any grounds.” That might include constitutional grounds, such as due process, or state-based protections involving “bad faith and undue burden or breadth.” Indeed, Trump’s demands for immunity reveal a contempt for an ordinary citizen’s rights that is disturbing in itself: he doesn’t seem to have much respect for what the Constitution offers Americans. (Alito, arguably the furthest-right Justice, revealed the same bias when he argued, in his dissent, that the normal limits on state proceedings offer only “meager defenses,” which are, presumably, unfit for a President.)
There have been cases similar to Vance before, in which Presidents have been asked for evidence: Thomas Jefferson, in the treason trial of Aaron Burr; Richard Nixon, in the investigation of Watergate conspirators; Gerald Ford, in the trial of Lynette (Squeaky) Fromme, who tried to assassinate him; and Bill Clinton, in a civil suit brought by Paula Jones. The clear record in all of them is that Presidents need to give evidence when it is called for. Trump’s lawyers had said that Vance is different because it is a state criminal proceeding; they invoked the image of endless local prosecutors trying to “harass” the President. The majority didn’t see how that prospect fundamentally changes the constitutional stakes.
The other case, Trump v. Mazars, involves a different set of considerations. (Mazars is the name of the accounting firm that has physical possession of many Trump records; Deutsche Bank was also subpoenaed, in a case combined with this one.) The House committees seeking Trump’s records, along with those of some of his family members and businesses, were not doing so as part of a criminal case. Nor were they doing so as part of an impeachment proceeding, although some in Congress no doubt hoped that what was revealed might lead to investigations with consequences for Trump. Instead, the committees argued that they need Trump’s financial records to help them determine whether future legislation might be necessary—for example, to better prosecute money laundering, or to prevent the use of sham real-estate valuations, or to disclose the financial connections between a Presidential candidate and foreign governments or businesses. The committees took this approach because Congress does have broad subpoena power when it comes to figuring out how to write laws.
Roberts also wrote the Mazars decision, which all the Justices except Thomas and Alito fully signed on to, and in it he noted that Trump argued “that the usual rules for congressional subpoenas do not govern here because the President’s papers are at issue.” In reality, Roberts wrote, Congress can have very good reasons for drawing a President, and his papers, into its legislative inquiries. But the majority also concluded that the House committees had gone too far in their arguments, leaving “essentially no limits” on their power of subpoena. After all, anything and everything could potentially relate to future legislation: “The President’s financial records could relate to economic reform, medical records to health reform, school transcripts to education reform, and so on.”
When Congress subpoenas the President, the Court found, issues relating to the separation of powers come into play in a way that they don’t when a President is asked to give evidence in a criminal proceeding. The middle way the Court offered was a four-step test: Did the legislative purpose really warrant a subpoena? Was the demand for documents broader than it had to be? Did courts think that there was good evidence establishing that the purpose Congress claimed was, indeed, its purpose? And how much of a burden did it place on the President? This obviously makes for a longer path toward revealing Trump’s financial entanglements than if the Court had simply ordered the President to open his files today. But the Court also expressed the hope that, if neither side is assured of an automatic victory in court, Congress and the President may be more motivated to negotiate and come to an accommodation about turning over evidence. This amounts to a hope that, even in a polarized Washington, politics might still function. Perhaps it will; Trump won’t always be President, and limits on congressional overreach have their uses, too. The rulings were a reminder that this country still has laws. Trump, as he wrote in another angry tweet, believes that the Court was “Not fair to this Presidency or Administration!” He knows he has lost.