newyorker--2020-02-10--Eminem’s Unexpected Cameo at the 2020 Oscars

During Sunday night ’ s Oscars ceremony , in a segment paying homage to “ the impact of music ” in film , Lin-Manuel Miranda quoted the director John Hughes , who , in 1985 , featured “ Don ’ t You ( Forget About Me ) , ” a song by the Scottish New Wave band Simple Minds , in the opening and closing credits of “ The Breakfast Club.
” “ You couldn ’ t take the song out of the movie , and you couldn ’ t take the movie out of the song , ” Hughes @ @ @ @ @ @ @ accompanied by a montage of footage from “ The Breakfast Club , ” “ Risky Business , ” “ Footloose , ” and other musically forward films , ending with a clip from “ 8 Mile , ” a 2002 film about a young white rapper , played by Eminem , attempting to launch his career in Detroit in the mid-nineties .
A young Burt Reynolds appeared onscreen , in a scene from “ Deliverance.
” “ Sometimes you have to lose yourself ’ fore you can find anything , ” he counselled @ @ @ @ @ @ @ was onstage , bearded and dressed in black , a thick gold rope bouncing around his neck , performing “ Lose Yourself , ” a song from “ 8 Mile.
” The appearance was unannounced .
The camera panned to the audience .
Idina Menzel made a befuddled and slightly disdainful face .
Brie Larson laughed .
Martin Scorsese appeared to be asleep .
Billie Eilish and her brother Finneas gave each other side-eye .
But the majority of the crowd was hollering along—dancing in that terrible , stilted way people who are @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , but still exhibiting some genuine excitement .
It was evident that most people knew the words and were prepared to mouth them to the cameras .
“ Lose Yourself ” taps so cleanly into the American mythos that it sometimes feels as if it could be an alternative national anthem : the song is an urgent exhortation , a bootstraps parable , a promise that if you work hard , and then work harder , anything is possible .
( Both the idea and the language are echoed in “ My Shot @ @ @ @ @ @ @ songs from the musical “ Hamilton ” —which , of course , also deals with a foundational American fable . )
“ Lose Yourself ” is so instantly and endlessly engrossing in part because it encourages the kind of self-betterment we all desperately want to believe is still possible , even as we reckon with the fact that perhaps it isn ’ t , and maybe never was .
( It is a cruel and funny irony that the Oscars highlighted such a devoted and optimistic ode to capitalism on a night when @ @ @ @ @ @ @ on class , won Best Picture . )
In the chorus , Eminem raps of the dazzling potential embedded in each of us : In 2003 , “ Lose Yourself ” won the Oscar for Best Original Song , beating tracks by Paul Simon and U2 .
Barbra Streisand presented the award , noting , “ Songs are amazing things !
” It was the first time a rap song had ever won in this category .
Eminem later said that he didn ’ t think he had a chance .
He was @ @ @ @ @ @ @ thought that was for actors , ” he told a reporter in a 2007 interview for the radio show “ Behind the Boards.
” He also didn ’ t show up to the first Grammy ceremony he was invited to ; “ how come there can not be a rap album in the Best Album category , ” he complained , a sentiment that was repeated , twenty years after Eminem ’ s first nomination , by this year ’ s Best Rap Album winner , Tyler , the Creator . )
Luis @ @ @ @ @ @ @ co-writers on “ Lose Yourself , ” accepted the award .
Resto , who had long , curly hair , wore several large beaded necklaces , a Detroit Pistons jersey , and a blazer .
“ He has symphonies in his head , ” he said of Eminem .
“ He ’ s a good man , good heart.
” It seemed as if the Academy was attempting to balance Eminem ’ s presence on Sunday—which many quickly decried as nonsensical and irrelevant—by asking Billie Eilish to perform the Beatles ’ “ Yesterday @ @ @ @ @ @ @ rolled .
Her rendition was understated and elegant , if almost too unsentimental .
( Paul McCartney , who played and sang the original version , is perhaps the world ’ s greatest living example of how pure sentiment can be deployed to staggering ends . )
Eilish—who is eighteen , and recently swept the major categories at the Grammys , including Album of the Year , Record of the Year , Song of the Year , and Best New Artist—has been feverishly applauded by adults all winter ; on Sunday , an @ @ @ @ @ @ @ that maybe she had even invented an entirely new genre of music .
Some of Eilish ’ s acclaim feels justified , but an increasing percentage of it is vaguely frantic—breathless exhortations huffed out by adults who have finally found a teen-ager who doesn ’ t frighten them , or maybe frightens them just enough .
Eilish is sometimes cast as a countercultural figure : she has boldly refused the rote sexualization female pop stars were once so relentlessly subjected to , and her music is dark and inventive .
But she is @ @ @ @ @ @ @ when I was a belligerent seventeen-year-old , I dyed my hair with Manic Panic , wore giant T-shirts , and said “ Duh ” a lot , too ) , which sometimes makes it feel premature to declare her a radical iconoclast .
( Her suit may be extra-large , but it is still Chanel . )
Shortly after his performance this year , Eminem tweeted an explanation for his presence , writing , “ Look , if you had another shot , another opportunity… Thanks for having me @ TheAcademy .
Sorry @ @ @ @ @ @ @ here.
” Regardless of how unexpected ( or temporally confusing ) the performance was , I nonetheless found it to be a sweet and earnest coda .
Being eighteen and unimpressed is a thrill , but being forty-seven and humble is pretty great .

During Sunday night’s Oscars ceremony, in a segment paying homage to “the impact of music” in film, Lin-Manuel Miranda quoted the director John Hughes, who, in 1985, featured “Don’t You (Forget About Me),” a song by the Scottish New Wave band Simple Minds, in the opening and closing credits of “The Breakfast Club.” “You couldn’t take the song out of the movie, and you couldn’t take the movie out of the song,” Hughes said. Miranda’s appearance was accompanied by a montage of footage from “The Breakfast Club,” “Risky Business,” “Footloose,” and other musically forward films, ending with a clip from “8 Mile,” a 2002 film about a young white rapper, played by Eminem, attempting to launch his career in Detroit in the mid-nineties. A young Burt Reynolds appeared onscreen, in a scene from “Deliverance.” “Sometimes you have to lose yourself ’fore you can find anything,” he counselled.
Then, suddenly, Eminem himself was onstage, bearded and dressed in black, a thick gold rope bouncing around his neck, performing “Lose Yourself,” a song from “8 Mile.” The appearance was unannounced. The camera panned to the audience. Idina Menzel made a befuddled and slightly disdainful face. Brie Larson laughed. Martin Scorsese appeared to be asleep. Billie Eilish and her brother Finneas gave each other side-eye. But the majority of the crowd was hollering along—dancing in that terrible, stilted way people who are seat-bound in formalwear are forced to move, but still exhibiting some genuine excitement. It was evident that most people knew the words and were prepared to mouth them to the cameras.
“Lose Yourself” taps so cleanly into the American mythos that it sometimes feels as if it could be an alternative national anthem: the song is an urgent pep talk, a bootstraps parable, a promise that if you work hard, and then work harder, anything is possible. (Both the idea and the language are echoed in “My Shot,” one of the most beloved songs from the musical “Hamilton”—which, of course, also deals with a foundational American fable.) “Lose Yourself” is so instantly and endlessly engrossing in part because it encourages the kind of self-betterment we all desperately want to believe is still possible, even as we reckon with the fact that perhaps it isn’t, and maybe never was. (It is a cruel and funny irony that the Oscars highlighted such a devoted and optimistic ode to capitalism on a night when “Parasite,” a powerful commentary on class, won Best Picture.) In the chorus, Eminem raps of the dazzling potential embedded in each of us:
You better lose yourself in the music, the moment
You own it, you better never let it go
You only get one shot, do not miss your chance to blow
This opportunity comes once in a lifetime
In 2003, “Lose Yourself” won the Oscar for Best Original Song, beating tracks by Paul Simon and U2. Barbra Streisand presented the award, noting, “Songs are amazing things!” It was the first time a rap song had ever won in this category. Eminem later said that he didn’t think he had a chance. He was at home, napping (“I thought that was for actors,” he told a reporter in a 2007 interview for the radio show “Behind the Boards.” He also didn’t show up to the first Grammy ceremony he was invited to; “How come there cannot be a rap album in the Best Album category?” he complained, a sentiment that was repeated, twenty years after Eminem’s first nomination, by this year’s Best Rap Album winner, Tyler, the Creator.) Luis Resto, one of Eminem’s co-writers on “Lose Yourself,” accepted the award. Resto, who had long, curly hair, wore several large beaded necklaces, a Detroit Pistons jersey, and a blazer. “He has symphonies in his head,” he said of Eminem. “He’s a good man, good heart.”
It seemed as if the Academy was attempting to balance Eminem’s presence on Sunday—which many quickly decried as nonsensical and irrelevant—by asking Billie Eilish to perform the Beatles’ “Yesterday,” while an In Memoriam montage rolled. Her rendition was understated and elegant, if almost too unsentimental. (Paul McCartney, who played and sang the original version, is perhaps the world’s greatest living example of how pure sentiment can be deployed to staggering ends.) Eilish—who is eighteen, and recently swept the major categories at the Grammys, including Album of the Year, Record of the Year, Song of the Year, and Best New Artist—has been feverishly applauded by adults all winter; on Sunday, an E! News red-carpet commentator excitedly suggested that maybe she had even invented an entirely new genre of music.
Some of Eilish’s acclaim feels justified, but an increasing percentage of it is vaguely frantic—breathless exhortations huffed out by adults who have finally found a teen-ager who doesn’t frighten them, or maybe frightens them just enough. Eilish is sometimes cast as a countercultural figure: she has boldly refused the rote sexualization female pop stars were once so relentlessly subjected to, and her music is dark and inventive. But she is still working in familiar cultural modes (when I was a belligerent seventeen-year-old, I dyed my hair with Manic Panic, wore giant T-shirts, and said “Duh” a lot, too), which sometimes makes it feel premature to declare her a radical iconoclast. (Her suit may be extra-large, but it is still Chanel.)
Shortly after his performance this year, Eminem tweeted an explanation for his presence, writing, “Look, if you had another shot, another opportunity… Thanks for having me @TheAcademy. Sorry it took me 18 years to get here.” Regardless of how unexpected (or temporally confusing) the performance was, I nonetheless found it to be a sweet and earnest coda. Being eighteen and unimpressed is a thrill, but being forty-seven and humble is pretty great.


newyorker--2020-02-10--The Black Vote in 2020

The Black Vote in 2020

The last time a Democrat won the White House , he had enormous support from black voters ; lower support @ @ @ @ @ of many reasons that Hillary Clinton lost in 2016 .
Marcus Ferrell , a political @ @ @ @ @ The New Yorker Radio Hour about the importance of turning out “ unlikely voters ” @ @ @ @ @ election , which , for him , means black men .
Jelani Cobb , a @ @ @ @ @ historian , points out that the four Democratic front-runners , all of whom are white @ @ @ @ @ the turnout they need .
Cobb tells David Remnick that Joe Biden ’ s strong @ @ @ @ @ after his weak showing among largely white voters in Iowa ; Pete Buttigieg has very @ @ @ @ @ voters , and even faces opposition from black constituents in his home town of South @ @ @ @ @ Bernie Sanders , Cobb says , seems to have made inroads with younger black voters @ @ @ @ @ 2016 .

Photograph by Spencer Platt / Getty
The last time a Democrat won the White House, he had enormous support from black voters; lower support from black voters was one of many reasons that Hillary Clinton lost in 2016. Marcus Ferrell, a political organizer from Atlanta, tells The New Yorker Radio Hour about the importance of turning out “unlikely voters” in order to win an election, which, for him, means black men. Jelani Cobb, a New Yorker staff writer and historian, points out that the four Democratic front-runners, all of whom are white, may struggle to get the turnout they need. Cobb tells David Remnick that Joe Biden’s strong lead may begin to fall after his weak showing among largely white voters in Iowa; Pete Buttigieg has very low support among South Carolina voters, and even faces opposition from black constituents in his home town of South Bend, Indiana. But Bernie Sanders, Cobb says, seems to have made inroads with younger black voters, at least, since 2016.


newyorker--2020-02-10--An Oscars-Night Diary: Love for “Parasite” Brings Hollywood, Momentarily, Together

Moments after “ Parasite ” won Best Picture at the ninety-second annual Academy Awards , sending a jolt through the audience at the Dolby Theatre , I filed out of my seat in the back row of the mezzanine and followed the tony crowd up to the Governors Ball .
The Oscars are held within the Hollywood & Highland Center , an outdoor mall containing a Johnny Rockets and a Foot Locker , but , in Hollywood fashion , the place had been gussied up like a velvety Shangri-La .
Ahead of me , Beanie Feldstein tried to keep the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the escalator .
To my right , Quentin Tarantino was talking about Elvis with Harvey Keitel .
Song Kang-ho , who plays the father of the scammer family in “ Parasite , ” leaned at a cocktail table smoking a cigarette , like the coolest cat in the alley .
But the movie star who stopped me in my tracks was Roman Griffin Davis , the twelve-year-old moppet who plays the adorable little Nazi in “ Jojo Rabbit.
” I asked if he had met anyone exciting .
“ Everyone , ” he @ @ @ @ @ @ @ “ I was excited to meet everyone .
I admire everyone here , because they work in the film industry , and it ’ s a really , really tough industry .
I ’ ve already realized that , and I ’ m , like , twelve.
” “ You liked watching Elton , didn ’ t you ?
” his father , the cinematographer Ben Davis , interjected .
“ We missed Eminem , because I wanted a margarita .
And he ’ s really angry about it.
” Roman gave his @ @ @ @ @ @ @ his hopes for the rest of the evening ?
“ I want to find what ’ s at the end of that room , ” he said , peering through the doors to the party , past a scrum that included Greta Gerwig and Noah Baumbach .
I told him about the station in the back where Oscar winners go to have their names engraved on their statuettes .
His father wondered aloud about what would happen if you lost your Oscar before you got there , and Roman cut in : “ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ other one .
Or you keep both .
It can cover your mortgage !
” Practical , I noted .
“ And dishonest , ” Ben said .
With that , father and son ventured into the party .
Attending the Academy Awards is , in some ways , just like watching them on television .
It feels long .
Many people take a bathroom break during Best Sound Mixing .
( Sorry , sound mixers . )
In crucial ways , though , it ’ s a completely different experience .
For @ @ @ @ @ @ @ just how many pairs of winners fail to time their speeches correctly , leaving the second person to lunge toward the mike just as the lights cut out and the commercial break begins .
At times , it feels like nothing more than an industry trade show , a place where a lot of people do care about the crafts of cinematography and costume design .
If you put away Twitter , as I did , you have little sense of how things are playing on TV—what ’ s being meme-ified and dissected @ @ @ @ @ @ @ sitting in the auditorium , and I had no idea that the rest of the world had decided , after watching Lady Gaga and Bradley Cooper sing “ Shallow , ” that they were secretly in love .
It also feels like a maze .
Last year , I made the mistake of walking to the ceremony , like some idiot from Manhattan who has no idea how Los Angeles works , and wound up trapped behind a fence on Hollywood Boulevard .
This time around , I sagely handed my Academy-sanctioned vehicle @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , and glided through to the red carpet , where a man in a tuxedo opened the door and said , “ Welcome to the Oscars.
” About a dozen uniformed military personnel stood on a riser , including Sergeant First Class Justin Karalfa , who told me that he had spotted Antonio Banderas .
From the curb , gawkers were shouting , “ Finneas !
” —the musician and older brother of Billie Eilish , whose Joker-green roots were visible through a beaded curtain that separated the red carpet ’ s A-list @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Through the divide , I could hear an announcer call out , “ The Price Is Right ” style , “ Please welcome Olivia Colma-a-an , ” followed by a roar of cheers .
The two lanes merged into one , and I saw a man hail down Bong Joon-ho for a photo .
The director happily obliged .
This guy !
Bong turned out to be not just the night ’ s biggest winner but its biggest mensch .
Everyone wanted to hang with him , or bathe in his friendly glow @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , became a mini-celebrity by the end of the night .
The picture-taker identified himself as Bernard Hiller , an acting coach .
“ I teach acting around the world , ” he told me .
“ America is not loved for many things , but we are loved for our acting.
” He was there with one of his students , a young woman from Germany , who had come to Hollywood to be an actress .
“ L.A .
is the only city where dreams actually come true , ” Hiller @ @ @ @ @ @ @ If you ’ re a dreamer , L.A. likes that.
” To my left , I spotted De ’ Andre Arnold , a high-school senior from Texas , who had been suspended from his school when he refused to cut his dreadlocks to adhere to its dress code .
In response , the team from “ Hair Love , ” one of the nominees for best animated short , invited him and his mother to the ceremony .
“ I ’ m just having the best day of my life right now , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ green Paul Smith tux .
“ So far , we ’ ve seen Spike Lee , which was crazy .
We talked for a little bit , which is a dream come true .
He was talking about how he ’ s on my side.
” He was still hoping to meet Will Smith , if he was there .
He wasn ’ t , but about an hour later Arnold would get a shout-out from the Oscars stage , when “ Hair Love ” won its category .
Inside the hall , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ A woman showed me her gemstone pinky ring , part of a coördinated campaign to bring attention to the lack of gender parity in the industry .
The woman , who had attended the Oscars five or six times , told me , referring to a slate of nominees that included “ The Irishman , ” “ Once Upon a Time .
.
.
in Hollywood , ” and “ Ford v Ferrari , ” “ I hope this year is the last gasp of white male nostalgia.
” There was a chime @ @ @ @ @ @ @ seats and find out how loud that gasp would be .
In the mezzanine , I sat next to a married couple , Marc Gerber and Laurie MacMurray .
Gerber , a retired marketing executive , had worked on the campaign for “ Star Wars ” at Twentieth Century Fox , in 1977 , and became an Academy member in 1985 .
He estimated that he had been to the Oscars twenty-five times , and told me that he had once walked in “ shoulder to shoulder ” with Audrey Hepburn .
“ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ I was going to be here , ” he said .
“ Twelve-year-old kids don ’ t dream of being accountants or driving a waste-management truck .
Twelve-year-old kids dream of this.
” ( Tell that to Roman Griffin Davis , who is twelve and already plotting to put an Oscar on eBay . )

Moments after “Parasite” won Best Picture at the ninety-second annual Academy Awards, sending a jolt through the audience at the Dolby Theatre, I filed out of my seat in the back row of the mezzanine and followed the tony crowd up to the Governors Ball. The Oscars are held within the Hollywood & Highland Center, an outdoor mall containing a Johnny Rockets and a Foot Locker, but, in Hollywood fashion, the place had been gussied up like a velvety Shangri-La. Ahead of me, Beanie Feldstein tried to keep the train of her dress from catching in the escalator. To my right, Quentin Tarantino was talking about Elvis with Harvey Keitel. Song Kang-ho, who plays the father of the scammer family in “Parasite,” leaned against a cocktail table smoking a cigarette, like the coolest cat in the alley. But the movie star who stopped me in my tracks was Roman Griffin Davis, the twelve-year-old moppet who plays the adorable little Nazi in “Jojo Rabbit.”
I asked if he had met anyone exciting. “Everyone,” he said, in a British accent. “I was excited to meet everyone. I admire everyone here, because they work in the film industry, and it’s a really, really tough industry. I’ve already realized that, and I’m, like, twelve.”
“You liked watching Elton, didn’t you?” his father, the cinematographer Ben Davis, interjected. “We missed Eminem, because I wanted a margarita. And he’s really angry about it.”
Roman gave his father a chastising look. What were his hopes for the rest of the evening? “I want to find what’s at the end of that room,” he said, peering through the doors to the party, past a scrum that included Greta Gerwig and Noah Baumbach. I told him about the station in the back where Oscar winners go to have their names engraved on their statuettes. His father wondered aloud about what would happen if you lost your Oscar before you got there, and Roman cut in: “You could say that and sell your other one. Or you keep both. It can cover your mortgage!”
Practical, I noted. “And dishonest,” Ben said. With that, father and son ventured into the party.
Attending the Academy Awards is, in some ways, just like watching them on television. It feels long. Many people take a bathroom break during Best Sound Mixing. (Sorry, sound mixers.) In crucial ways, though, it’s a completely different experience. For one thing, you get to see just how many pairs of winners fail to time their speeches correctly, leaving the second person to lunge toward the mike just as the lights cut out and the commercial break begins. At times, it feels like nothing more than an industry trade show, a place where a lot of people do care about the crafts of cinematography and costume design. If you put away Twitter, as I did, you have little sense of how things are playing on TV—what’s being meme-ified and dissected. Last year was my first time sitting in the auditorium, and I had no idea that the rest of the world had decided, after watching Lady Gaga and Bradley Cooper sing “Shallow,” that they were secretly in love.
It also feels like a maze. Last year, I made the mistake of walking to the ceremony, like some idiot from Manhattan who has no idea how Los Angeles works, and wound up trapped behind a fence on Hollywood Boulevard. This time around, I sagely handed my Academy-sanctioned vehicle pass to my Uber driver, Alejandro, and glided through to the red carpet, where a man in a tuxedo opened the door and said, “Welcome to the Oscars.” About a dozen uniformed military personnel stood on a riser, including Sergeant First Class Justin Karalfa, who told me that he had spotted Antonio Banderas. From the curb, gawkers were shouting, “Finneas!”—the musician and older brother of Billie Eilish, whose Joker-green roots were visible through a beaded curtain that separated the red carpet’s A-list lane from the rest of us. Through the divide, I could hear an announcer call out, “The Price Is Right” style, “Please welcome Olivia Colma-a-an,” followed by a roar of cheers.
The two lanes merged into one, and I saw a man hail down Bong Joon-ho for a photo. The director happily obliged. This guy! Bong turned out to be not just the night’s biggest winner but its biggest mensch. Everyone wanted to hang with him, or bathe in his friendly glow. Even his interpreter, Sharon Choi, became a mini-celebrity by the end of the night. The picture-taker identified himself as Bernard Hiller, an acting coach. “I teach acting around the world,” he told me. “America is not loved for many things, but we are loved for our acting.” He was there with one of his students, a young woman from Germany, who had come to Hollywood to be an actress. “L.A. is the only city where dreams actually come true,” Hiller said, in all seriousness. “If you’re a dreamer, L.A. likes that.”
To my left, I spotted De’Andre Arnold, a high-school senior from Texas, who had been suspended from his school when he refused to cut his dreadlocks to adhere to its dress code. In response, the team from “Hair Love,” one of the nominees for best animated short, invited him and his mother to the ceremony. “I’m just having the best day of my life right now,” Arnold told me, in a green Paul Smith tux. “So far, we’ve seen Spike Lee, which was crazy. We talked for a little bit, which is a dream come true. He was talking about how he’s on my side.” He was still hoping to meet Will Smith, if he was there. He wasn’t, but about an hour later Arnold would get a shout-out from the Oscars stage, when “Hair Love” won its category.
Inside the hall, people were milling and drinking champagne. A woman showed me her gemstone pinky ring, part of a coördinated campaign to bring attention to the lack of gender parity in the industry. The woman, who had attended the Oscars five or six times, told me, referring to a slate of nominees that included “The Irishman,” “Once Upon a Time . . . in Hollywood,” and “Ford v Ferrari,” “I hope this year is the last gasp of white male nostalgia.”
There was a chime. It was time to take our seats and find out how loud that gasp would be.
In the mezzanine, I sat next to a married couple, Marc Gerber and Laurie MacMurray. Gerber, a retired marketing executive, had worked on the campaign for “Star Wars” at Twentieth Century Fox, in 1977, and became an Academy member in 1985. He estimated that he had been to the Oscars twenty-five times, and told me that he had once walked in “shoulder to shoulder” with Audrey Hepburn. “When I was twelve, I knew I was going to be here,” he said. “Twelve-year-old kids don’t dream of being accountants or driving a waste-management truck. Twelve-year-old kids dream of this.” (Tell that to Roman Griffin Davis, who is twelve and already plotting to put an Oscar on eBay.)
MacMurray, a retired Internet marketer, had grown up in Hollywood. Her father was the actor Fred MacMurray, who appeared in “Double Indemnity” and “The Apartment” and later starred on the sitcom “My Three Sons.” (On her phone, she pulled up a picture of him with Barbara Stanwyck.) Her mother, June Haver, was a contract player at Twentieth Century Fox, before leaving the pictures to become a nun. Her career change lasted “three seconds,” her daughter joked, pulling up a picture of Haver with Betty Grable. After Haver’s stint in the convent, she came back to Hollywood, crossed paths with Fred MacMurray at a party at John Wayne’s house, married him, and became a stay-at-home mother. In 1967, MacMurray presented the Oscar for Special Visual Effects to “Fantastic Voyage.” His daughter recalled that he had been snacking on Hostess doughnuts in the audience and, when he got up, had to brush powdered sugar from his lapel. “He was very shy,” she said. “He didn’t like to get up and be on live TV.”
The lights dimmed, and an announcer said, “Ladies and gentlemen, in one minute, we are live on ABC and around the world.” Janelle Monáe came on as Mister Rogers, and, being nearsighted, I wasn’t quite sure if what I was seeing was actually, truly, a line of backup dancers dressed as the Joker and the soldiers from “1917.” I had no idea how any of this insanity was playing on TV, or on Twitter, but I sensed some unease, especially when Chris Rock and Steve Martin joked about how the best-director category was missing “vaginas.” It had, indeed, been a year of white male nostalgia—and missed opportunities for performers such as Jennifer Lopez and Lupita Nyong’o—but the show was doing its best to put on a more inclusive face. Nevertheless, we knew what was coming: a slow march toward a seemingly inevitable Best Picture victory for “1917.”
The first sign of an alternate course of events came when “Parasite” won Best Original Screenplay, and you could feel a palpable wave of love for Bong. It was different from the warm applause that the audience had given the other winners and even some of the musical numbers. Bong was back for Best International Feature Film, but everyone expected that. His third win, for directing, electrified the crowd once again. Speaking through his interpreter, who had been onstage so frequently that she had begun to feel like the de-facto host, Bong paid tribute to his competitor Martin Scorsese—and the audience melted. Suddenly, the industry didn’t feel divided between old and new, the nostalgic and the global, but like a continuum that could stretch from New York to South Korea. When Bong added, in his own English, “I will drink until next morning,” the deal was sealed: Bong Joon-ho was Hollywood’s new crush.
But could he win the big prize? During the final commercial break, I asked Gerber for his prediction. He said he wanted “1917” to win (“Maybe I just like war movies”) but thought, based on the enthusiasm we had felt around us, that “Parasite” would win. I had my doubts. Then Jane Fonda opened the Best Picture envelope and called out “Parasite.” Gerber leaned in to me and said that no foreign-language winner had ever won Best Picture, too, and assured me, “This is history.”
A half-hour later, I was at a gas station down the street from the theatre, waiting for an Uber that never came. I hailed a cab—this place has cabs?—and headed to Elton John’s Oscars party, in West Hollywood. This was Sir Elton’s twenty-eighth Oscars party to benefit his AIDS foundation, but the first since 1995 to which he arrived with an Oscar in hand; he and Bernie Taupin had won for a song they wrote for “Rocketman.” The party was extremely Elton, bedecked in candelabras and zebra-print carpets. As I arrived, I nearly tripped over Billy Porter’s flowing purple train, which he wore with matching gloves and a hat with a brim the size of a tractor tire. Trailed by attendants who made sure his train didn’t get tangled, Porter sashayed through the press line, made a circle through the party, grabbed a chicken appetizer that seemed to materialize just for him, and said, “I gotta go!” Then he was gone.
I spotted E. J. Johnson, the fashionable son of Magic Johnson, in heels, and Miss J, from “America’s Next Top Model,” in a taffeta jumpsuit. In the main room, the twenty-five-year-old English rocker Sam Fender was performing a set. After a few songs, Sir Elton took the stage, in pink sunglasses and a twinkling lapel pin shaped like a rocket. “These guys are so fucking tight!” he said, gesturing to Fender and his band. Then he announced, “Let’s rock,” and the two of them duetted to Fender’s song “Will We Talk?” As I walked out, Taupin was leaving, his Oscar in tow, and Corey Feldman was arriving, in a powder-blue suit. I got a ride to the Vanity Fair party, where a dark hallway led to a sleek red carpet, and a line of incredibly good-looking people were waiting to face the cameras. Scarlett Johansson and Colin Jost came up behind me, followed by Laura Dern. A journalist I know was taking notes on her phone. “She’s in ‘Jumanji,’ ” she said, eying a starlet I didn’t recognize. “And then she was in that show about tweeting, or Instagramming? But it got cancelled.”
At the Vanity Fair Oscars party, everyone is famous, to the point that non-famous people are the minority. Your brain keeps telling you, “Is that . . . ?”—and the answer is always yes. Caitlyn Jenner? Yep. Jake Gyllenhaal? Correct again. Even celebrities get starstruck by other celebrities. I sat next to Holland Taylor, who was waiting, somewhat exhaustedly, as her partner, Sarah Paulson, schmoozed with friends. Taylor had been there for hours, but she was still in awe from meeting Joni Mitchell, to whom she had said, “You are my scripture.” Even at seventy-seven, you can fangirl. At the bar, I ran into Yalitza Aparicio, the star of “Roma,” and spoke with her in garbled Spanish; she seemed to be having a great time. In the back was a dance floor, where a guy was dancing with a small white dog. Joaquin Phoenix, holding his Oscar for Best Actor, posed with last year’s winner, Rami Malek. Marshall Curry, who won for his live-action short, “The Neighbors’ Window,” let me hold his Oscar, which was as heavy as people always say they are. Servers were passing out hamburgers, and I briefly fantasized about the waitstaff, inspired by “Parasite,” slowly infiltrating the lives of the millionaires—or, in the case of Jeff Bezos, multi-billionaires—surrounding them. I looked around. Was that . . . ? Yes. It was. All of them were exactly the famous people they appeared to be, drinking and dancing and being famous. I thought back to the acting coach who had told me that L.A. is for dreamers. It sounded unbearably corny, but what would Hollywood be without that sentiment coursing through its veins? What would the Oscars be? The answer is a Johnny Rockets and a Foot Locker.
Sometime past one o’clock, Team “Parasite” rolled in. This was Bong Joon-ho’s party now. The last gasp of white male nostalgia could barely be heard.


newyorker--2020-02-10--Oscars Fashion 2020: Janelle Monáe, Bong Joon-ho, and Hints of a More Imaginative Academy Awards

Janelle Monáe appeared on the Oscars red carpet , early Sunday night , wearing what must have been many pounds of silver lacquered silk-lamé tulle covered , from head to toe , in faceted crystals ( a hundred and sixty-eight thousand of them , to be exact , according to the Instagram of Ralph Lauren , the gown ’ s designer ) .
She looked strange and marvellous , like a cross between an intergalactic monarch and a disco ball , with a nod to Grace Jones in her cowl hood .
But , like a disco ball that starts @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Monáe ’ s iridescence only seemed to highlight the unique blah-ness of the event she found herself attending .
The musician and actress—who herself has never been nominated by the Academy , despite having delivered stellar performances in films such as “ Moonlight ” and “ Hidden Figures ” —was there to perform the evening ’ s opening number , which in Oscars years past tended to be a self-congratulatory recap of the year in cinema .
Monáe , now wearing her signature bouffant and tuxedo pants , instead sang about films that @ @ @ @ @ @ @ s awards , opening with the Mr. Rogers theme song ( the director of “ A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood , ” Marielle Heller , like all other female directors this year , received no nomination ) .
That ditty , usually an ode to openheartedness , felt here like a rebuke , an indirect acknowledgment that the Oscars this year had—once again—largely shut out women and people of color .
( The Wrap concluded that , out of a total of two hundred and nine nominations , only sixty-five went to @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , only one—for Cynthia Erivo , the star of “ Harriet ” —went to a person of color . )
Monáe ’ s backup dancers wore costumes that referenced films like “ Us , ” “ Queen & Slim , ” and “ Dolemite Is My Name , ” films starring black actors who were not in the awards conversation at all .
Mid-number , Monáe draped herself in a floral cape reminiscent of “ Midsommar , ” a horror epic about a woman who sets fire to her oppressors .
Monáe ’ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ by the irrepressible Billy Porter , wearing a floor-length gold duster with platform heels ) felt like a trailer for a far more interesting , far more imaginative Oscars , one that we would never see .
After Monáe left the stage , Chris Rock and Steve Martin shuffled onstage to deliver jokes about the Oscars ’ lack of diversity , but not all of them landed .
( When Rock said that what was missing in the directing category this year was “ vaginas , ” a million women groaned in their @ @ @ @ @ @ @ vaginas or like being reduced to our anatomy ) .
This set a pattern for the rest of the ceremony , where presenter after presenter , many of them women and people of color , paid lip service to the night ’ s bizarre omissions .
Sigourney Weaver , onstage with Brie Larson and Gal Gadot , much later in the evening , proclaimed that “ all women are superheroes , ” a statement that was meant to serve as empowering consolation but just felt vacant and condescending .
The trio of actresses @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Eímear Noone , the first woman in the awards ’ ninety-two-year history to conduct an Academy orchestra ( she got to conduct only one song , a montage of Best Original Score nominees ) .
Noone , for her part , made the most of her moment .
Down in the orchestra pit , she looked formidable in a golden , steampunk-inspired jacket from the Irish designer Claire Garvey , like a Fritz Lang hallucination come to life .
Other small moments of optimism and rebellion came from equally unlikely corners .
Billie @ @ @ @ @ @ @ young fandom is one of music ’ s most dynamic stories in years , arrived with her neon-green hair in a messy chignon .
She wore a slouchy oversized Chanel suit , continuing her sartorial project of moving the conversation around teen pop stars away from body-consciousness and toward androgyny and eccentricity .
Presenting together , Maya Rudolph , in a sequinned orange Valentino caftan , and Kristin Wiig , also in Valentino , looking somewhat like a scarlet lasagna noodle , felt like colorful tourists from the looser world of comedy , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ a much more fun location .
Natalie Portman ( who has been beating the drum about sexism in the director category since the 2018 Golden Globes , when she stood next to Ron Howard and said , “ And here are the all-male nominees ” ) wore a black couture Dior cape embroidered , in tiny gold cursive , with the last names of eight female directors who were not nominated this year ( Scafaria , Wang , Gerwig , Diop , Heller , Matsoukas , Har ’ el , Sciamma ) .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ act of protest , forcing red-carpet reporters to say the names of women who were otherwise absent from the night .
These were the rare , forward-looking fashion delights on a night that seemed both muddled by guilt about the present and stuck in nostalgia for the past .
( Cue Eminem , who showed up , for no discernible reason , to perform his song “ Lose Yourself , ” from 2002 . )
On a night when many of the winners felt preordained ( Brad Pitt , Joaquin Phoenix ) , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ nearly redeemed the entire mess , was the Best Picture award for Bong Joon-ho ’ s phenomenal thriller “ Parasite.
” Bong looked sharp and unfussy in his monochromatic black tuxedo , and he delivered charming speeches , through his translator Sharon Choi ( who is an aspiring director herself ) , about his cinematic dreams and his admiration for Martin Scorsese .
Backstage , he posed with his statuettes , making them kiss like little dolls , a goofy gesture that both celebrated his wins and cast the trophies in an absurdist @ @ @ @ @ @ @ was the industry outsiders who stole the night , as if they were crashing a boring , sagging party for the open bar .
( “ I drink until next morning , ” Bong said in one of his acceptance speeches . )
I loved the sight of Barbara Ling and Nancy Haigh , the duo who won the award for Production Design for “ Once Upon a Time .
.
.
in Hollywood , ” standing on the stage in chic statement necklaces , and Ling in a velvet scarf , looking @ @ @ @ @ @ @ women who shop at museum stores .
Ditto Julia Reichert and Steven Bognar , the husband-and-wife team behind the winning documentary “ American Factory , ” who wore matching shaved heads ( Reichert is undergoing chemotherapy ) and told the audience that “ things will get better when workers of the world unite.
” I ’ d like to imagine that they all had somewhere far more exhilarating to go later , somewhere the A-listers did not know about .
And that this morning , while the industry suits crunch the numbers on @ @ @ @ @ @ @ already back to work , creating what comes next .

Janelle Monáe appeared on the Oscars red carpet, early Sunday night, wearing what must have been many pounds of silver lacquered silk-lamé tulle covered, from head to toe, in faceted crystals (a hundred and sixty-eight thousand of them, to be exact, according to the Instagram of Ralph Lauren, the gown’s designer). She looked strange and marvellous, like a cross between an intergalactic monarch and a disco ball, with a nod to Grace Jones in her cowl hood. But, like a disco ball that starts spinning too soon at a party, Monáe’s iridescence only seemed to highlight the unique blah-ness of the event she found herself attending.
The musician and actress—who herself has never been nominated by the Academy, despite having delivered stellar performances in films such as “Moonlight” and “Hidden Figures”—was there to perform the evening’s opening number, which in Oscars years past tended to be a self-congratulatory recap of the year in cinema. Monáe, now wearing her signature bouffant and tuxedo pants, instead sang about films that had been snubbed at this year’s awards, opening with the Mr. Rogers theme song (the director of “A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood,” Marielle Heller, like all other female directors this year, received no nomination). That ditty, usually an ode to openheartedness, felt here like a rebuke, an indirect acknowledgment that the Oscars this year had—once again—largely shut out women and people of color. (The Wrap concluded that, out of a total of two hundred and nine nominations, only sixty-five went to women; of all the acting nominations, only one—for Cynthia Erivo, the star of “Harriet”—went to a person of color.) Monáe’s backup dancers wore costumes that referenced films like “Us,” “Queen & Slim,” and “Dolemite Is My Name,” films starring black actors who were not in the awards conversation at all. Mid-number, Monáe draped herself in a floral cape reminiscent of “Midsommar,” a horror epic about a woman who sets fire to her oppressors.
Monáe’s raucous, joyful performance (aided by the irrepressible Billy Porter, wearing a floor-length gold duster with platform heels) felt like a trailer for a far more interesting, far more imaginative Oscars, one that we would never see. After Monáe left the stage, Chris Rock and Steve Martin shuffled onstage to deliver jokes about the Oscars’ lack of diversity, but not all of them landed. (When Rock said that what was missing in the directing category this year was “vaginas,” a million women groaned in their living rooms; not all women have vaginas or like being reduced to our anatomy). This set a pattern for the rest of the ceremony, where presenter after presenter, many of them women and people of color, paid lip service to the night’s bizarre omissions. Sigourney Weaver, onstage with Brie Larson and Gal Gadot, much later in the evening, proclaimed that “all women are superheroes,” a statement that was meant to serve as empowering consolation but just felt vacant and condescending.
Natalie Portman in a black couture Dior cape embroidered with the names of snubbed female directors. Photograph by Kevin Mazur / Getty Billie Eilish on the red carpet, wearing a slouchy oversized Chanel suit. Photograph by Kevin Mazur / Getty
The trio of actresses were onstage to introduce the Irish conductor Eímear Noone, the first woman in the awards’ ninety-two-year history to conduct an Academy orchestra (she got to conduct only one song, a montage of Best Original Score nominees). Noone, for her part, made the most of her moment. Down in the orchestra pit, she looked formidable in a golden, steampunk-inspired jacket from the Irish designer Claire Garvey, like a Fritz Lang hallucination come to life. Other small moments of optimism and rebellion came from equally unlikely corners. Billie Eilish, whose rapid rise and rabid young fandom is one of music’s most dynamic stories in years, arrived with her neon-green hair in a messy chignon. She wore a slouchy oversized Chanel suit, continuing her sartorial project of moving the conversation around teen pop stars away from body-consciousness and toward androgyny and eccentricity. Presenting together, Maya Rudolph, in a sequinned orange Valentino caftan, and Kristin Wiig, also in Valentino, looking somewhat like a scarlet lasagna noodle, felt like colorful tourists from the looser world of comedy, just passing through on their way to a much more fun location. Natalie Portman (who has been beating the drum about sexism in the director category since the 2018 Golden Globes, when she stood next to Ron Howard and said, “And here are the all-male nominees”) wore a black couture Dior cape embroidered, in tiny gold cursive, with the last names of eight female directors who were not nominated this year (Scafaria, Wang, Gerwig, Diop, Heller, Matsoukas, Har’el, Sciamma). The cape was a small but clever act of protest, forcing red-carpet reporters to say the names of women who were otherwise absent from the night.
The South Korean director Bong Joon-ho swept the awards, winning Best Original Screenplay, Best International Feature Film, Best Director, and Best Picture for “Parasite.” Photograph by Amy Sussman / Getty
These were the rare, forward-looking fashion delights on a night that seemed both muddled by guilt about the present and stuck in nostalgia for the past. (Cue Eminem, who showed up, for no discernible reason, to perform his song “Lose Yourself,” from 2002.) On a night when many of the winners felt preordained (Brad Pitt, Joaquin Phoenix), the biggest shock, and one that nearly redeemed the entire mess, was the Best Picture award for Bong Joon-ho’s phenomenal thriller “Parasite.” Bong looked sharp and unfussy in his monochromatic black tuxedo, and he delivered charming speeches, through his translator Sharon Choi (who is an aspiring director herself), about his cinematic dreams and his admiration for Martin Scorsese. Backstage, he posed with his statuettes, making them kiss like little dolls, a goofy gesture that both celebrated his wins and cast the trophies in an absurdist light.
In the end, it was the industry outsiders who stole the night, as if they were crashing a boring, sagging party for the open bar. (“I drink until next morning,” Bong said in one of his acceptance speeches.) I loved the sight of Barbara Ling and Nancy Haigh, the duo who won the award for Production Design for “Once Upon a Time . . . in Hollywood,” standing on the stage in chic statement necklaces, and Ling in a velvet scarf, looking like the kind of worldly and unfussy women who shop at museum stores. Ditto Julia Reichert and Steven Bognar, the husband-and-wife team behind the winning documentary “American Factory,” who wore matching shaved heads (Reichert is undergoing chemotherapy) and told the audience that “things will get better when workers of the world unite.” I’d like to imagine that they all had somewhere far more exhilarating to go later, somewhere the A-listers did not know about. And that this morning, while the industry suits crunch the numbers on what transpired last night, they are already back to work, creating what comes next.


newyorker--2020-02-10--“Which Side Are You On?”: Bernie Sanders Storms Through New Hampshire

On an icy Friday morning in New Hampshire , hundreds of cars—including a Mini Cooper entirely covered in pro-Bernie vinyl décor—filled parking lots and neighborhoods surrounding the New Hampshire Institute of Politics at St. Anselm College , in Goffstown , for a Bernie Sanders edition of its venerable breakfast series , Politics & Eggs .
Outside , a few gray-haired hopefuls , turned away at the door , asked to wait for “ just a handshake with the senator.
” “ Please leave the premises !
” an event worker yelled .
Inside , past a lobby full of breakfast @ @ @ @ @ @ @ with local businesspeople , students , citizen Bernie devotees , and priests , Sanders hunched over a table , Sharpie in hand , furiously signing commemorative wooden eggs .
( A vitrine of notable signed wooden eggs is on display in the lobby . )
One introductory speaker thanked the sponsoring attendees “ for being such a great corporate citizen ” ; another thanked the journalists present .
“ It ’ s a profession that does not get its due , ” he said .
Sanders , who often uses “ corporate ” @ @ @ @ @ @ @ good ” —as in the term “ corporate media ” —took the stage , in a tidy suit and tie , hair combed , like Bart Simpson at church .
He , too , addressed the journalists .
“ Isn ’ t it nice to go to an event where you ’ re not considered to be an enemy of the people ?
” he said .
“ It ’ s nice to see the respect .
But I don ’ t want to overdo it !
” His tone ratcheted between praise @ @ @ @ @ @ @ before , the slow dribble of results from the Iowa caucuses seemed to have concluded ; Pete Buttigieg had beaten Sanders by one-tenth of a percentage point .
( Buttigieg , either sensing triumph or choosing to will it into being , had given an exultant speech before the results had been totalled . )
For Sanders , New Hampshire is a chance to claim a more secure victory , one unimpeded by malfunctioning apps , in a place not so far from his home in Vermont .
In 2016 , he won @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ’ s primary vote , and recent polls had him as a slight favorite over Buttigieg .
Onstage , Sanders read a stream of headlines— “ pete buttigieg tops billionaire donor lists , ” and so on—that aligned his competitor with financial élites .
“ I like Pete Buttigieg .
Nice guy , ” he said .
“ But we are in a moment where billionaires control not only our economy ” but our politics .
We have to choose , he said : “ Which side are you on ?
” The @ @ @ @ @ @ @ attended .
Bernie ’ s stump speech , delivered with ornery passion to an appreciative but quiet room , invoked wages that were “ not one nickel more .
.
.
than forty-five years ago , ” once adjusted for inflation ; hundreds of millions of dollars being paid to baseball players but very little to teachers ; and a litany of problems including homelessness , death , bankruptcy , obscenity , cancer , financial ruin , climate change , fossil-fuel subsidies and tax breaks , the opioid epidemic , corruption , and @ @ @ @ @ @ @ eating their eggs .
As Sanders spoke , he leaned forward , his expression intense , waving his hands and occasionally pointing a finger .
His list of horrors almost concluded , he turned to the audience for a brief Q .
& A. Admirably , Sanders took questions live , allowing for possible human awkwardness .
( When I observed Amy Klobuchar , at her Iowa events , she took questions written on cards . )
One man asked for a specific example of how campaigning , and listening to citizens , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ This was a clever , somewhat challenging question—Sanders is famously beloved for his consistency .
Sanders answered smoothly : he said that , until he campaigned around the country , he hadn ’ t fully realized how corrupt and racist the criminal-justice system was , and how flawed the immigration system is .
He ’ s adjusted his priorities accordingly .
To another questioner , he promised to legalize marijuana in all fifty states on Day One .
( Klobuchar ’ s Day One includes “ Fire Betsy DeVos.
” ) Like Klobuchar @ @ @ @ @ @ @ his campaign schedule for the impeachment hearings , and he was packing in events on weekends .
He raced off while others hung around the lobby , admiring the wooden eggs and framed posters for Edmund Muskie , Ronald Reagan , Eugene McCarthy , and Jimmy Carter , represented by an illustration of a smiling peanut .
I talked to some attendees—visiting students from journalism programs , curious locals , barrel-chested non-Bernie businesspeople .
A woman named Dianne Soto , who wore a red hoodie over a floor-length American-flag print dress ( “ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ” she said ) , liked Bernie for his “ passion ” : “ He believes what he ’ s saying.
” Soto is an insurance agent , and though insurance “ is designed to help people , ” she said , she thought that Bernie was right about the greed and corruption of insurance companies .
“ There ’ s too much power and money in the hands of the few , ” she said .
“ It needs to be fixed .
I hope he gets a chance to do it.
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ the debate , and Sanders ’ s campaign hosted a watching party in Manchester , in a warehouse-like , Astroturfed facility called the Ultimate Sports Academy .
The venue , home to a Little League team called the New Hampshire Bobcats , is decorated with trophies , American flags , team photos , and reproductions of Bobcats articles from the New Hampshire Union Leader .
Two ten-year-old boys in baseball uniforms suggested that I buy refreshments that would support a planned trip to Cooperstown , New York .
I asked them about the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ happen here ?
“ Softball , ” one said .
“ And they got Zumba.
” Campaign volunteers handed out debate bingo cards , with boxes like “ Coronavirus , ” “ Candidate says swear word , ” “ Klobuchar : ‘ I won a red state ’ or equivalent , ” and , in the middle , “ Bernie Gesturing ( Free ) .
” The crowd was mostly white , except for several volunteers and journalists of color , but diverse in age and aesthetic : a young woman in a @ @ @ @ @ @ @ girls in “ TWEENS FOR BERNIE ” shirts , a slightly Michael Moore-looking man who FaceTimed his wife into the room , Michael Moore himself .
I talked to people who had come from New Orleans , N.Y.U.
, and Australia .
A family of four had come from New Hampshire ’ s seacoast region—Brian and Kara Dillard and their daughters , who sat quietly reading books .
A few years ago , when they lived in California , Brian said , they ’ d seen “ Obama drive by in a limo @ @ @ @ @ @ @ could get up close to all the candidates , and did .
They were enthusiastic Bernie supporters , for many reasons ; Medicare for All was their key issue .
“ We have a successful national business , and we still can ’ t afford health insurance , ” Brian said .
Arthur Washington , a retired corporate lawyer , who had travelled from New York for primary week , said , “ I think Bernie is special in the sense of the love he inspires.
” Bernie was “ too progressive ” @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
As a lawyer , Washington had dealt with corporations and liability insurance .
“ I think it ’ s too easy to vilify corporations , ” he said .
When Sanders denounces “ corporations , ” Washington went on , “ people think of Fortune 500 companies , ” but most are smaller—regular companies run by regular citizens , and not guilty of Amazonian malfeasance .
Rick Maynard , a retired electrical worker in a union hat and a reflective vest , who also has a public-access TV show about energy issues @ @ @ @ @ @ @ was gon na be here ” —Nina Turner , Sanders ’ s campaign co-chair .
“ I love Nina.
” He went on , “ Bernie will represent every citizen of the United States—everyone ’ s well-being and welfare.
” Everybody I talked to , almost all without being asked , said that they ’ d vote for any Democrat who got the nomination .

On an icy Friday morning in New Hampshire, hundreds of cars—including a Mini Cooper entirely covered in pro-Bernie vinyl décor—filled parking lots and neighborhoods surrounding the New Hampshire Institute of Politics at St. Anselm College, in Goffstown, for a Bernie Sanders edition of its venerable breakfast series, Politics & Eggs. Outside, a few gray-haired hopefuls, turned away at the door, asked to wait for “just a handshake with the senator.” “Please leave the premises!” an event worker yelled. Inside, past a lobby full of breakfast offerings, in a small auditorium filled with local businesspeople, students, citizen Bernie devotees, and priests, Sanders hunched over a table, Sharpie in hand, furiously signing commemorative wooden eggs. (A vitrine of notable signed wooden eggs is on display in the lobby.) One introductory speaker thanked the sponsoring attendees “for being such a great corporate citizen”; another thanked the journalists present. “It’s a profession that does not get its due,” he said. Sanders, who often uses “corporate” as shorthand for “up to no good”—as in the term “corporate media”—took the stage, in a tidy suit and tie, hair combed, like Bart Simpson at church. He, too, addressed the journalists. “Isn’t it nice to go to an event where you’re not considered to be an enemy of the people?” he said. “It’s nice to see the respect. But I don’t want to overdo it!” His tone ratcheted between praise and something like disgust.
The night before, the slow dribble of results from the Iowa caucuses seemed to have concluded; Pete Buttigieg had beaten Sanders by one-tenth of a percentage point. (Buttigieg, either sensing triumph or choosing to will it into being, had given an exultant speech before the results had been totalled.) For Sanders, New Hampshire is a chance to claim a more secure victory, one unimpeded by malfunctioning apps, in a place not so far from his home in Vermont. In 2016, he won around sixty per cent of New Hampshire’s primary vote, and recent polls had him as a slight favorite over Buttigieg. Onstage, Sanders read a stream of headlines—“pete buttigieg tops billionaire donor lists,” and so on—that aligned his competitor with financial élites. “I like Pete Buttigieg. Nice guy,” he said. “But we are in a moment where billionaires control not only our economy” but our politics. We have to choose, he said: “Which side are you on?” The phrase came up at every event I attended.
Bernie’s stump speech, delivered with ornery passion to an appreciative but quiet room, invoked wages that were “not one nickel more . . . than forty-five years ago,” once adjusted for inflation; hundreds of millions of dollars being paid to baseball players but very little to teachers; and a litany of problems including homelessness, death, bankruptcy, obscenity, cancer, financial ruin, climate change, fossil-fuel subsidies and tax breaks, the opioid epidemic, corruption, and greed. The crowd listened politely, eating their eggs. As Sanders spoke, he leaned forward, his expression intense, waving his hands and occasionally pointing a finger. His list of horrors almost concluded, he turned to the audience for a brief Q. & A.
Admirably, Sanders took questions live, allowing for possible human awkwardness. (When I observed Amy Klobuchar, at her Iowa events, she took questions written on cards.) One man asked for a specific example of how campaigning, and listening to citizens, had made Sanders adjust a position. This was a clever, somewhat challenging question—Sanders is famously beloved for his consistency. Sanders answered smoothly: he said that, until he campaigned around the country, he hadn’t fully realized how corrupt and racist the criminal-justice system was, and how flawed the immigration system is. He’s adjusted his priorities accordingly. To another questioner, he promised to legalize marijuana in all fifty states on Day One. (Klobuchar’s Day One includes “Fire Betsy DeVos.”) Like Klobuchar and Elizabeth Warren, Sanders had interrupted his campaign schedule for the impeachment hearings, and he was packing in events on weekends. He raced off while others hung around the lobby, admiring the wooden eggs and framed posters for Edmund Muskie, Ronald Reagan, Eugene McCarthy, and Jimmy Carter, represented by an illustration of a smiling peanut.
I talked to some attendees—visiting students from journalism programs, curious locals, barrel-chested non-Bernie businesspeople. A woman named Dianne Soto, who wore a red hoodie over a floor-length American-flag print dress (“I’m a corny patriot,” she said), liked Bernie for his “passion”: “He believes what he’s saying.” Soto is an insurance agent, and though insurance “is designed to help people,” she said, she thought that Bernie was right about the greed and corruption of insurance companies. “There’s too much power and money in the hands of the few,” she said. “It needs to be fixed. I hope he gets a chance to do it.”
That night, St. Anselm hosted the debate, and Sanders’s campaign hosted a watching party in Manchester, in a warehouse-like, Astroturfed facility called the Ultimate Sports Academy. The venue, home to a Little League team called the New Hampshire Bobcats, is decorated with trophies, American flags, team photos, and reproductions of Bobcats articles from the New Hampshire Union Leader. Two ten-year-old boys in baseball uniforms suggested that I buy refreshments that would support a planned trip to Cooperstown, New York. I asked them about the arena. Anything besides baseball and Bernie happen here? “Softball,” one said. “And they got Zumba.”
Campaign volunteers handed out debate bingo cards, with boxes like “Coronavirus,” “Candidate says swear word,” “Klobuchar: ‘I won a red state’ or equivalent,” and, in the middle, “Bernie Gesturing (Free).” The crowd was mostly white, except for several volunteers and journalists of color, but diverse in age and aesthetic: a young woman in a wheelchair with pink and aqua hair, girls in “TWEENS FOR BERNIE” shirts, a slightly Michael Moore-looking man who FaceTimed his wife into the room, Michael Moore himself. I talked to people who had come from New Orleans, N.Y.U., and Australia.
A family of four had come from New Hampshire’s seacoast region—Brian and Kara Dillard and their daughters, who sat quietly reading books. A few years ago, when they lived in California, Brian said, they’d seen “Obama drive by in a limo,” but in New Hampshire they could get up close to all the candidates, and did. They were enthusiastic Bernie supporters, for many reasons; Medicare for All was their key issue. “We have a successful national business, and we still can’t afford health insurance,” Brian said. Arthur Washington, a retired corporate lawyer, who had travelled from New York for primary week, said, “I think Bernie is special in the sense of the love he inspires.” Bernie was “too progressive” for Washington, but he liked him. As a lawyer, Washington had dealt with corporations and liability insurance. “I think it’s too easy to vilify corporations,” he said. When Sanders denounces “corporations,” Washington went on, “people think of Fortune 500 companies,” but most are smaller—regular companies run by regular citizens, and not guilty of Amazonian malfeasance. Rick Maynard, a retired electrical worker in a union hat and a reflective vest, who also has a public-access TV show about energy issues, said, “I saw Nina was gonna be here”—Nina Turner, Sanders’s campaign co-chair. “I love Nina.” He went on, “Bernie will represent every citizen of the United States—everyone’s well-being and welfare.” Everybody I talked to, almost all without being asked, said that they’d vote for any Democrat who got the nomination.
Moore, in his trademark floppy jacket and baseball hat, riled up the crowd. “We’re in deep shit!” he yelled. On Trump: “You saw what he did today to Colonel Vindman!” The President, he went on, “is an evil genius—do not sell him short.” He concluded with a rousing bunch of “Whose side are you on?”s. During the debate, the crowd, seated in rows of folding chairs in front of a massive screen and two American flags, cheered lustily for Bernie’s zingers, booed lustily when Klobuchar dissed Medicare for All, remained silent or muttered when Warren spoke, and hollered when Buttigieg got knocked around about racial bias in South Bend, Indiana. A young woman walking by me cringed as Biden said he believed in drug convicts getting “mandatory prison—I mean mandatory treatment.” I was pleased to observe that the cheering was, for all New Hampshire’s whiteness, loudly opposed to institutional racism—there were whoops for prison reform, drug-policy reform, and Steyer’s talk of reparations. Several people told me that they appreciated New Hampshire’s first-in-the-nation primary status, because of the access it gave them to candidates, but also didn’t think it was representative or fair.
As the debate went on, I checked off several squares on my bingo card. A man next to me said, “You’re almost there—just gotta get gun control.” Near us, a guy in a Bernie hat bade farewell to a friend with “Feel the Bern!” and a raised fist. At one point, I noticed that the debate stage involved a lot of white hair, gesticulations, and yelling; the next day, people on Twitter circulated a photograph of Klobuchar, looking gimlet-eyed and weary as Biden, Sanders, and Steyer, beside her, each hollered with one arm raised. It was already becoming a meme.
Weatherwise and otherwise, Friday had been a wintry mix: slippery roads, occasional indoor raindrops, and, alongside impassioned hope, bad vibes—Trump-related anguish, resentments about Warren and Buttigieg and corporate media. But Saturday was glorious: freezing but brilliantly clear and sunny, with bright-white snow and sparkling trees. In the Lakes Region, an eleven-hundred-person crowd lined up for a Sanders town hall at the historic Rochester Opera House. “Bernie on a stick? Hot ’n’ fresh!” a young guy said to me, brandishing a photo of Bernie’s face, suitable for waving. In line, a vet tech from Maine had zipped her baby into her jacket, and a copywriter from Rhode Island had zipped his ten-year-old son into his sweater. “He’s connected enough to politics to know that Trump is terrible; he’s very, very upset about immigration specifically,” the copywriter, Corey Finkle, said, of his son. “But he doesn’t know what another way is. So I wanted him to see people get excited about what’s possible.” I talked to teachers, a Rochester city-hall employee, a physical-therapy assistant, a carpenter, an art director, a data analyst, and others, all of whom spoke thoughtfully about the issues they cared about—Medicare for All, fair pay, climate change, education, Roe v. Wade, kindness, truth, honesty, and, as a retiree from Maine put it, “beatin’ Trump.”
Inside, the opera house’s balconies were decorated in red-white-and-blue bunting. A diverse group of Bernie enthusiasts sat onstage, in front of a giant Bernie sign; it looked like a school pageant. Michael Moore came on, to wild fanfare, and delivered some rhetorical hits (on Bernie’s concern for future generations: “With all due respect to the senator, he’s not fighting for his future; he’s in his future!”) and misses (on the compromises of Obamacare: “What if Lincoln said half the slaves could be free?”). He seemed to be enjoying his role as lay preacher in the church of Bernie. At one point, he riffed about loaves and fishes and “a very famous democratic socialist from a couple thousand years ago.” Nina Turner, the Sanders campaign co-chair, who has compared its mission to a ministry, spoke with near-electric power. “Do something for a sister,” she said, after inveighing against wine-cave fund-raisers. “Raise one hand for yourself and one for somebody else.” Everyone did. With these hands, they’d fight the good fight.
When Bernie came on, the congregants voiced their euphoria. “Is this old opera house gonna stay standing after this event?” Sanders said. He was both in the moment—referencing the weekend’s whistle-stop tour of Merrimack, Concord, Dover, Keene, and beyond—and playing his greatest hits. “The corporate media and the establishment said, ‘Bernie is a nice guy, but his agenda is crazy,’ ” he said. He playfully cited his so-called “radical” ideas: equal pay for women, unions, free public higher education, Big Pharma being “not only greedy, they are bloody corrupt.” After an abbreviated stump speech, he concluded that his slogan, “Us, not me,” is also a “profound moral and political state.” “We are better human beings when we are compassionate—when my family cares about your family, when your family cares about my family,” he said. The crowd erupted; it felt good to hear a thousand people cheering for compassion. Sanders turned around, took a “group selfie” with the ecstatic crowd, and headed to a canvass launch in Concord. Everybody else filed out to a song by the Doobie Brothers, hopped up on political resolve and takin’ it to the streets. Sanders’s lead in the polls was climbing. That night, in Keene, he drew the biggest crowd of any candidate this year, accompanied by the bands Twiddle and Sunflower Bean.


newyorker--2020-02-10--Person Who Is Always Troubled or Concerned Should Get Different Job, Workplace Experts Say

MINNEAPOLIS ( The Borowitz Report ) —An employee who regularly self-identifies as “ troubled ” or “ concerned ” would benefit from seeking a different job , leading workplace experts said on Monday .
Professor Davis Logsdon , the director of the University of Minnesota ’ s Workplace Health Institute , cited the case of a Maine woman who appeared to undergo a traumatic experience every time she was faced with a difficult decision at work .
“ According to her own account , each decision followed an excruciating period of existential torment , ” Logsdon said .
“ Any @ @ @ @ @ @ @ clearly consider working somewhere else.
” Logsdon said that the woman ’ s frequent episodes of being troubled and/or concerned usually resulted in an unsatisfactory outcome .
“ At the end of her nightmarish deliberation process , she lost the capacity for individual judgment , ” he said .
“ She just went along with what everyone else in the office decided to do , regardless of the harm that such a decision might cause.
” Consequently , the researchers at the Workplace Health Institute concluded that any person who approaches his or @ @ @ @ @ @ @ and anxiety regularly exhibited by the Maine woman should find a new job that requires no decision-making whatsoever .
“ In her current position , she is useless , ” Logsdon said .

MINNEAPOLIS (The Borowitz Report)—An employee who regularly self-identifies as “troubled” or “concerned” would benefit from seeking a different job, leading workplace experts said on Monday.
Professor Davis Logsdon, the director of the University of Minnesota’s Workplace Health Institute, cited the case of a Maine woman who appeared to undergo a traumatic experience every time she was faced with a difficult decision at work.
“According to her own account, each decision followed an excruciating period of existential torment,” Logsdon said. “Any employee who finds decision-making this harrowing should clearly consider working somewhere else.”
Logsdon said that the woman’s frequent episodes of being troubled and/or concerned usually resulted in an unsatisfactory outcome.
“At the end of her nightmarish deliberation process, she lost the capacity for individual judgment,” he said. “She just went along with what everyone else in the office decided to do, regardless of the harm that such a decision might cause.”
Consequently, the researchers at the Workplace Health Institute concluded that any person who approaches his or her job with the levels of self-doubt and anxiety regularly exhibited by the Maine woman should find a new job that requires no decision-making whatsoever.
“In her current position, she is useless,” Logsdon said.


newyorker--2020-02-10--Daily Cartoon: Monday, February 10th

Daily Cartoon: Monday, February 10th

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“You go on ahead. I’m gonna hang out here for the next few months until everyone stops saying the word ‘caucus.’ ”


newyorker--2020-02-11--Joe Biden Struggles in New Hampshire

Joe Biden Struggles in New Hampshire

After a disappointing fourth-place finish in Iowa , Joe Biden is struggling in New Hampshire .
He is polling tied for third in the state , ten points behind Pete Buttigieg and nearly twenty points behind the leader , Bernie Sanders .
Among the top candidates in the race , Biden has the least amount of money .
On Friday , the Times reported that his campaign had reshuffled its leadership , in part owing to “ internal generational tensions.
” On Saturday , in the stands at the McIntyre-Shaheen Dinner , a primary-season showcase hosted by the New Hampshire @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the smallest contingents of supporters .
Bert Weiss , a moderate Democrat who is backing Amy Klobuchar , told me , “ I like Joe Biden just fine .
But I think he ’ s vulnerable.
” The New Hampshire primary has traditionally narrowed the field to a moderate front-runner and a progressive insurgent .
Sanders , who beat Hillary Clinton here in 2016 , remains the anti-establishment candidate .
Biden , with strong name recognition , a long résumé , and deep ties to the Party ’ s leadership , was always @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the presumptive nominee in 2020 .
Instead , around a third of New Hampshire ’ s likely voters remain undecided .
For many of the state Party ’ s most active members , the lack of a clear alternative to Sanders , an independent in the Senate and a self-described democratic socialist , is deeply troubling .
“ Everyone ’ s saying the same thing , ” Joe Keefe , who chaired the New Hampshire Democratic Party in the mid-nineties , told me .
“ Someone ’ s got to first beat Bernie @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , Biden held a get-out-the-vote rally in a wood-panelled ballroom at Ashworth by the Sea , a weathered beachside hotel in Hampton .
Biden wore a navy blazer with shiny brass buttons over a seersucker shirt and blue slacks .
It ’ s been clear since the start of the campaign that he is somewhat uncertain in front of a crowd .
What ’ s surprising is that he hasn ’ t gotten any better .
For long stretches , he addresses the surrogates assembled behind him—in Hampton , there were a half @ @ @ @ @ @ @ —rather than the audience .
He often delivers concluding thoughts in a manner that sounds like he ’ s transitioning to a new idea .
When the crowd registers an emotional response , he sometimes objects : “ No , I ’ m serious !
” When he gets a laugh , he yells , “ I ’ m not joking !
” In Hampton , he brought up the Violence Against Women Act .
The measure , which Biden introduced as a senator in 1990 , and Bill Clinton signed into law @ @ @ @ @ @ @ a reduction in domestic abuse in the U.S. by sixty-four per cent .
But , after nine months on the campaign trail , Biden still has not found a way to communicate its significance .
“ You all know what the phrase ‘ rule of thumb ’ means ?
” he asked the crowd .
The expression originated in English common law , he said , when “ your wife was a chattel , a personal property .
Just like a dog .
Just like a cow .
Just like pigs .
Just @ @ @ @ @ @ @ And you could chastise your wife .
But so many women were dying at the hands of their husband beating them that the English common law in the late thirteen hundreds—thirteen-ninety , I don ’ t know the exact year , thirteen-ninety , or something like that—changed the law , and it said , ‘ You can no longer beat your wife with a rod thicker than the circumference of your thumb.
’ But you could beat her , as long as the rod wasn ’ t thicker than the circumference of your @ @ @ @ @ @ @ problem , but we can change it .
That ’ s why I wrote the legislation.
” A number of Biden supporters predicted that he would not perform well in the primary on Tuesday .
At a Biden event on Saturday , Wilbur Glahn , a prominent Manchester-based litigator , told me that Sanders and Elizabeth Warren , as senators from neighboring states , have “ a huge leg up.
” Ned Helms , another former state Party chair , reminded me that the New Hampshire results would not reflect Biden ’ s @ @ @ @ @ @ @ “ We ’ ve got to go out to Nevada , where we finally have a large Latino population , ” Helms said .
“ And then we go down to South Carolina , with an African-American population.
” The most common argument for Biden was that he is best positioned to beat Donald Trump .
“ I just don ’ t want to see Trump get back in , ” Eric Small , a retired town administrator from Seabrook , told me .
“ I think Biden is a moderate and Bernie @ @ @ @ @ @ @ get it .
They ’ re too socialist.
” But , in New Hampshire , Biden seems unable to outmaneuver even the less established moderate candidates .
Buttigieg appears entirely out of reach ; a Boston Globe/Suffolk University poll released on Sunday showed that Klobuchar may have overtaken Biden as well .
At what point will the sense of inevitability finally wear off ?
Martha Fuller Clark , a state senator and a vice-chair of the state Party , told me that Biden “ needs to show a very strong level of support @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ’ t think he has to win in New Hampshire , but I think he has to , you know , mend the wound that he received in Iowa.
” The argument for Biden , Joe Keefe , the former chair of the state Party , said , is that “ we need a candidate who can attract independent voters , and even attract some small percentage of Republican voters who are just repulsed by this rancid Presidency.
” But it ’ s not at all obvious that Biden has the ability to @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , who is self-employed in the manufacturing industry , attended the event in Hampton .
He wore a green flannel shirt over a maroon turtleneck , and his salt-and-pepper hair was slicked back with gel .
He was a Democrat in his youth , but switched parties around the time that Reagan was running for President .
Health care is a major issue for him .
“ The best thing to happen to me was turning sixty-five—Medicare , ” he said .
In the 2016 primary , McCarthy voted for Jeb Bush .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ at all , ” he said .
“ I was more of a traditionalist , and he was too crazy.
” But , in the general election , he went with Trump .
His taxes have increased under the current Administration , but that doesn ’ t bother him .
“ I ’ m fortunate , ” McCarthy said .
“ I think he ’ s helping lower-income people.
” He also thought that Trump ’ s promises “ about draining the swamp was just another bullshit story , but he ’ s @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the economy , he said , is booming : “ I ’ m in building materials .
It hasn ’ t been this good in a long time.
” McCarthy doesn ’ t like Trump ’ s “ bitter tweets , ” and allowed that Biden is “ the most sane ” among the current Democrats .
But , he said , “ I ’ m going to vote for Trump .
He ’ s gotten an awful lot accomplished .
”

After a disappointing fourth-place finish in Iowa, Joe Biden is struggling in New Hampshire. He is polling tied for third in the state, ten points behind Pete Buttigieg and nearly twenty points behind the leader, Bernie Sanders. Among the top candidates in the race, Biden has the least amount of money. On Friday, the Times reported that his campaign had reshuffled its leadership, in part owing to “internal generational tensions.” On Saturday, in the stands at the McIntyre-Shaheen Dinner, a primary-season showcase hosted by the New Hampshire Democratic Party, Biden had one of the smallest contingents of supporters. Bert Weiss, a moderate Democrat who is backing Amy Klobuchar, told me, “I like Joe Biden just fine. But I think he’s vulnerable.”
The New Hampshire primary has traditionally narrowed the field to a moderate front-runner and a progressive insurgent. Sanders, who beat Hillary Clinton here in 2016, remains the anti-establishment candidate. Biden, with strong name recognition, a long résumé, and deep ties to the Party’s leadership, was always the most likely candidate to emerge as the presumptive nominee in 2020. Instead, around a third of New Hampshire’s likely voters remain undecided. For many of the state Party’s most active members, the lack of a clear alternative to Sanders, an independent in the Senate and a self-described democratic socialist, is deeply troubling. “Everyone’s saying the same thing,” Joe Keefe, who chaired the New Hampshire Democratic Party in the mid-nineties, told me. “Someone’s got to first beat Bernie before we beat Donald.”
On Sunday, Biden held a get-out-the-vote rally in a wood-panelled ballroom at Ashworth by the Sea, a weathered beachside hotel in Hampton. Biden wore a navy blazer with shiny brass buttons over a seersucker shirt and blue slacks. It’s been clear since the start of the campaign that he is somewhat uncertain in front of a crowd. What’s surprising is that he hasn’t gotten any better. For long stretches, he addresses the surrogates assembled behind him—in Hampton, there were a half dozen “Fire Fighters for Biden”—rather than the audience. He often delivers concluding thoughts in a manner that sounds like he’s transitioning to a new idea. When the crowd registers an emotional response, he sometimes objects: “No, I’m serious!” When he gets a laugh, he yells, “I’m not joking!”
In Hampton, he brought up the Violence Against Women Act. The measure, which Biden introduced as a senator in 1990, and Bill Clinton signed into law four years later, has contributed to a reduction in domestic abuse in the U.S. by sixty-four per cent. But, after nine months on the campaign trail, Biden still has not found a way to communicate its significance. “You all know what the phrase ‘rule of thumb’ means?” he asked the crowd. The expression originated in English common law, he said, when “your wife was a chattel, a personal property. Just like a dog. Just like a cow. Just like pigs. Just like farm animals. For real. And you could chastise your wife. But so many women were dying at the hands of their husband beating them that the English common law in the late thirteen hundreds—thirteen-ninety, I don’t know the exact year, thirteen-ninety, or something like that—changed the law, and it said, ‘You can no longer beat your wife with a rod thicker than the circumference of your thumb.’ But you could beat her, as long as the rod wasn’t thicker than the circumference of your thumb. We have a serious cultural problem, but we can change it. That’s why I wrote the legislation.”
A number of Biden supporters predicted that he would not perform well in the primary on Tuesday. At a Biden event on Saturday, Wilbur Glahn, a prominent Manchester-based litigator, told me that Sanders and Elizabeth Warren, as senators from neighboring states, have “a huge leg up.” Ned Helms, another former state Party chair, reminded me that the New Hampshire results would not reflect Biden’s ability to attract voters of color. “We’ve got to go out to Nevada, where we finally have a large Latino population,” Helms said. “And then we go down to South Carolina, with an African-American population.”
The most common argument for Biden was that he is best positioned to beat Donald Trump. “I just don’t want to see Trump get back in,” Eric Small, a retired town administrator from Seabrook, told me. “I think Biden is a moderate and Bernie and Warren aren’t going to get it. They’re too socialist.” But, in New Hampshire, Biden seems unable to outmaneuver even the less established moderate candidates. Buttigieg appears entirely out of reach; a Boston Globe/Suffolk University poll released on Sunday showed that Klobuchar may have overtaken Biden as well. At what point will the sense of inevitability finally wear off? Martha Fuller Clark, a state senator and a vice-chair of the state Party, told me that Biden “needs to show a very strong level of support here in New Hampshire. I don’t think he has to win in New Hampshire, but I think he has to, you know, mend the wound that he received in Iowa.”
The argument for Biden, Joe Keefe, the former chair of the state Party, said, is that “we need a candidate who can attract independent voters, and even attract some small percentage of Republican voters who are just repulsed by this rancid Presidency.” But it’s not at all obvious that Biden has the ability to seal up their support. Jay McCarthy, who is self-employed in the manufacturing industry, attended the event in Hampton. He wore a green flannel shirt over a maroon turtleneck, and his salt-and-pepper hair was slicked back with gel. He was a Democrat in his youth, but switched parties around the time that Reagan was running for President. Health care is a major issue for him. “The best thing to happen to me was turning sixty-five—Medicare,” he said.
In the 2016 primary, McCarthy voted for Jeb Bush. “I wasn’t for Trump at all,” he said. “I was more of a traditionalist, and he was too crazy.” But, in the general election, he went with Trump. His taxes have increased under the current Administration, but that doesn’t bother him. “I’m fortunate,” McCarthy said. “I think he’s helping lower-income people.” He also thought that Trump’s promises “about draining the swamp was just another bullshit story, but he’s actually tried to do it.” And the economy, he said, is booming: “I’m in building materials. It hasn’t been this good in a long time.” McCarthy doesn’t like Trump’s “bitter tweets,” and allowed that Biden is “the most sane” among the current Democrats. But, he said, “I’m going to vote for Trump. He’s gotten an awful lot accomplished.”
Latest Coverage
See the election results from the New Hampshire primary.
The New Hampshire results signal a long nationwide Democratic battle. The Party’s candidates will almost certainly have to grind it out until early June, when the final primaries will take place.
“This victory here is the beginning of the end for Donald Trump!” Bernie Sanders said, at a primary-night party in New Hampshire.
Bernie Sanders won the New Hampshire primary, but his performance was not as impressive as it was in 2016.
Ahead of the New Hampshire primary, Trump tried to make trouble for the Democrats.
In New Hampshire, Sanders and Warren promise bold, fundamental change. But they struggle to conjure a vision of America that aggressively counters Trump’s.


newyorker--2020-02-11--New Hampshire Primary Election 2020: Live Results, Maps, and Analysis

Latest Coverage
The New Hampshire results signal a long nationwide Democratic battle. The Party’s candidates will almost certainly have to grind it out until early June, when the final primaries will take place.
“This victory here is the beginning of the end for Donald Trump!” Bernie Sanders said, at a primary-night party in New Hampshire.
Bernie Sanders won the New Hampshire primary, but his performance was not as impressive as it was in 2016.
Ahead of the New Hampshire primary, Trump tried to make trouble for the Democrats.
In New Hampshire, Sanders and Warren promise bold, fundamental change. But they struggle to conjure a vision of America that aggressively counters Trump’s.
After a disappointing fourth-place finish in Iowa, Joe Biden is struggling in New Hampshire.