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Secret post-Columbine NRA recordings reveal organization’s 20-year playbook on school shootings

Secretly recorded tapes of National Rifle Association of America (NRA) discussions after the Columbine High School shooting of 1999 reveal the organization’s immediate response to the tragedy and highlight the organization’s public shift on school shootings.

NPR.org has reportedly obtained more than 2.5 hours’ worth of audio conversations of the previously taped deliberations following the mass shooting and managed to confirm the identities of some of the individuals on the call. On the day of the shooting, the NRA’s top officials including “executives, lobbyists, and public relations strategists” quickly scrambled to determine how to deal with the highly publicized crisis.

NRA strategists appeared to struggle as they worked to come up with an approach to the horrific ordeal. NPR notes that the strategists “sounded shaken and panicked as they pondered their next step into what would become an era of routine and horrific mass school shootings.”

During those private discussions, they also mulled over a number of ways to approach the situation differently as opposed to taking the same inflexible stance it had taken in the past.


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“Everything we do here has a downside,” NRA official Kayne Robinson said on the tapes. “Don’t anybody kid yourself about this great macho thing of going down there and showing our chest and showing how damn tough we are. … We are in deep s*** on this deal. … And so anything we do here is going to be a matter of trying to decide the best of a whole bunch of very, very bad choices.”

At the time, the 1999 shooting was deemed the worst mass shooting to take place at a United States school since the 1960s. NRA lobbyist Jim Baker on the conference call.

“At that same period where they’re going to be burying these children, we’re going to be having media … trying to run through the exhibit hall, looking at kids fondling firearms, which is going to be a horrible, horrible, horrible juxtaposition,” said Baker.

NPR also highlighted other key details from the calls. “In addition to mapping out their national strategy, NRA leaders can also be heard describing the organization’s more activist members in surprisingly harsh terms, deriding them as ‘hillbillies’ and ‘fruitcakes’ who might go off-script after Columbine and embarrass them.”

“I got to tell you, we got to think this thing through, because if we tuck tail and run, we’re going to be accepting responsibility for what happened out there,” said NRA official Jim Land.

PR consultant Tony Makris also weighed in on Land’s remarks.

“That’s one very good argument, Jim,” Makris replied. “On the other side, if you don’t appear to be deferential in honoring the dead, you end up being a tremendous s***head who wouldn’t tuck tail and run, you know? So it’s a double-edged sword.”

More like this:

Trump plans to sell his D.C. hotel to Hilton after losing millions

Former President Donald Trump has a $170 million bank loan coming due in 2024 from Deutsche Bank for his Washington, D.C. property. But according to the Wall Street Journal, Trump has found a way out. He’s selling it to Hilton.

Trump leased the hotel for $250,000 a month for the next 60 years, but that lease will be broken with the agreement to fork over the property after years of profit losses.

Trump signed the lease Aug. 25, 2013, and began developing it in 2014, which would mean he would pay about $3 million a year for a total of $24 million. He also got $40 million in government tax credits for the hotel. He pledged to spend $200 million in developing it and it’s unclear how much operations cost for the hotel.

While the Wall Street Journal reported that the hotel generated $150 million in revenue over the four years of Trump’s presidency, it doesn’t appear that revenue was enough to cover the operations and interest payments on the Deutsche Bank loan.


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According to Forbes, “the property has been struggling to make money for years. Operating profits (measured as earnings before interest, taxes, depreciation and amortization) for the 12 months ending Aug. 31, 2017, appeared to be negative $4.3 million, according to an analysis of the financial documents released by the House Committee on Oversight and Reform. The next year, things improved, but the Trumps still only squeezed out $900,000 of operating profits on $52.3 million in revenue, and they lost money after paying interest on their debt. A year after that, the property bled more, $2.1 million on an operating basis. Things got worse when Covid struck. In the year that ended Aug. 31, 2020, the hotel produced an operating loss of $8.6 million. There are a lot of ways to lose money every year that don’t require investing $370 million upfront.”

A report Washington Post reporter David Fahrenthold last week revealed that the D.C. hotel isn’t Trump’s only problem. Many of his properties are hemorrhaging money.

“It was losing millions and millions of dollars,” Fahrenthold told the Post Reports podcast on Wednesday. “I think they recognize that you cannot make it in Washington, especially with as expensive a hotel as that is, as big of a loan as that hotel has, you can’t make it on one slice of the pie. You can’t make it just on Republicans.”

“It’s not enough,” he said. “To make that kind of hotel at that luxury level work in Washington, you need everybody. You need embassies and you need conventions. You can’t have a polarized audience. So that’s them admitting, we can’t make this work. … It’s the kind of place that could do really well — it’s got a great location — but not (with the) Trump (name).'”

More on former President Donald Trump’s business ventures:

Michael Flynn makes bizarre call for “one religion” in U.S.

Mike Flynn, former president Donald Trump’s one-time national security adviser, called for “one religion” in the U.S. on Saturday.

“If we are going to have one nation under God, which we must, we have to have one religion,” Flynn said at a ReAwaken America event in San Antonio. “One nation under God, and one religion under God.”

After attorney Ron Filipowski posted video of Flynn’s comments, Twitter erupted.

Ben White, Politico’s chief economic correspondent, called Flynn’s comments “as fundamental a rejection of the very founding principles of this nation as you are likely to find.”


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CNN senior broadcast producer Javier de Diego agreed. “Literally the opposite of what the Constitution says,” he wrote.

Former U.S. Attorney Preet Bharara said, “Wow look how much Michael Flynn hates America.”

“And is that religion QAnon?” MSNBC analyst David Corn wrote.

New York magazine writer Jonathan Chait said: “Is it going to be Judaism? …It’s not going to be Judaism, is it?”

More below.

Cherry-picking the Bible and using verses out of context has been done for centuries

A devout evangelical Christian friend of mine recently texted to explain why he was not getting the COVID-19 vaccine. “Jesus went around healing lepers and touched them without fear of getting leprosy,” he said.

This story that St. Luke tells in his gospel (17:11-19) is not the only Bible verse I have seen and heard evangelical Christians use to justify anti-vaccine convictions. Other popular passages include Psalm 30:2: “Lord, I called to you for help, and you healed me.”; 1 Corinthians 6:19: “Do you not know that your bodies are temples of the Holy Spirit?”; and Leviticus 17:11: “For the life of a creature is in the blood.”

All of these verses have been lifted out of context and repurposed to buttress the anti-vaccine movement. As a historian of the Bible in American life, I can attest that such shallow reading in service of political and cultural agendas has long been a fixture of evangelical Christianity.

Bible in the hands of ordinary people

In the 16th century, Martin Luther and other Protestant reformers translated the Bible from an already existing Greek text into the languages of common people. Prior to this, most men and women in Europe were exposed to the Bible through the Vulgate, a Latin version of the Old and New Testaments that only educated men – mostly Catholic priests – could read.

As people read the Bible – many for the first time – they inevitably began to interpret it as well. Protestant denominations formed around such interpretations. By the time Protestants started forming settlements in North America, there were distinctly Anglican, Presbyterian, Anabaptist, Lutheran and Quaker reading of the Bible.

The English Calvinists who settled the Plymouth and Massachusetts Bay built entire colonies around their reading of the Bible, making New England one of the most literate societies in the world. In the 18th century, popular access to the Bible was one way that the British – including the North American colonies – distinguished themselves from Catholic nations that did not provide such access.

American evangelicals

In the early 19th-century United States, biblical interpretation became more free-wheeling and individualistic.

Small differences over how to interpret the Bible often resulted in the creation of new sects such as the Latter Day Saints, the Restorationists (Disciples of Christ and Churches of Christ), Adventists and various evangelical offshoots of more longstanding denominations such as Presbyterians, Baptists, Methodists and Quakers.

During this period, the United States also grew more democratic. What the French traveler and diplomat Alexis de Tocqueville described as “individualism” had a profound influence on biblical interpretation and the way laypeople read the sacred text.

The views of the Bible proclaimed from the pulpits of formally educated clergy in established denominations gave way to a more free-wheeling and populist understanding of the scriptures that was often dissociated from such authoritative communities.

But these evangelicals never developed their approach to understanding the Bible in complete isolation. They often followed the interpretations of charismatic leaders such as Joseph Smith (Latter Day Saints), Barton Stone and Alexander Campbell (Restorationist), William Miller (Adventists) and Lorenzo Dow (Methodists).

These preachers built followers around innovative readings of the Scriptures. Without a church hierarchy to reign them in, these evangelical pied pipers had little accountability.

When large numbers of Irish and German immigrants arrived on American shores in the middle decades of the 19th century, evangelicals drew on longstanding anti-Catholic prejudices. They grew anxious that these Catholic newcomers were a threat to their Protestant nation and often based these fears on perceptions of how Catholic bishops and priests kept the Bible from their parishioners.

While this fear of Catholics was mostly rhetorical in nature, there were a few moments of violence. For example, in 1844, nativist Protestants, responding to rumors that Catholics were trying to remove the Bible from Philadelphia public schools, destroyed two of the city’s Catholic churches before the Pennsylvania militia stopped the violence.

These so-called “Bible riots” revealed the deep tensions between the individualistic and common-sensical approach to biblical interpretation common among Protestants and a Catholic view of reading the Bible that was always filtered through the historic teachings of the Church and its theologians. Protestants believed that the former approach was more compatible with the spirit of American liberty.

Vaccine opposition and the Bible

Today this American approach to reading and the interpreting the Bible is front and center in the arguments made by evangelical Christians seeking religious exemptions to COVID-19 vaccination mandates. When they explain their religious objections to health officials, employers and school administrations, evangelicals select verses, usually out of context, and reference them on exemptions forms.

Like they did in the 19th century, evangelicals who refuse to get vaccinated today tend to follow the spiritual leaders who have built followings by baptizing political or cultural propaganda in a sea of Bible verses.

Megachurch pastors, televangelists, conservative media commentators and social media influencers have far more power over ordinary evangelical Christians than those local pastors who encourage their congregations to consider that God works through science.

When I ask those evangelicals who oppose vaccines how they come to their conclusions, they all seem to cite the same sources: Fox News, or a host of fringe media personalities whom they watch on cable television or Facebook. Some others they cite include Salem Radio host and author Eric Metaxas, the Liberty Counsel and Tennessee megachurch leader Greg Locke, to name a few.

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Social media allows these evangelical conspiracy theorists to become influential through their anti-vaccine rants.

From my perspective, the response of some evangelicals to the vaccine reveals the dark side of the Protestant Reformation. When the Bible is placed in the hands of the people, void of any kind of authoritative religious community to guide them in their proper understanding of the text, the people can make it say anything they want it to say.

John Fea, Professor of American History, Messiah College

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

Clichés may grate like nails on a chalkboard, but one person’s cliché is another’s sliced bread

If some words are shovel-ready for a conversation, but using them could lead to accusations that you’re not giving 110%, then should you stick a pin in them? Or perhaps you could read the room better and send thoughts and prayers to redeem these words. Are we adulting now?

Overused phrases seem to bother people — even professional word nerds like us, a linguist and a folklorist. When it reaches the point of aggravation, they are called clichés (with or without the accute accent).

As Nov. 3 is National Cliché Day, what better time to clear up some confusion about “clichéness.” What makes a cliché a cliché? And why do we find ourselves rolling our eyes when we hear certain ones?

Idioms, slang, clichés

When it comes to identifying what these words and phrases are, there are three terms that bump into one another a lot: idiom, slang and cliché.

An idiom is a word or phrase that has a meaning different from the composition of its parts, like “kick the bucket.”

Slang is different. Slang is a word or phrase that is a synonym for another but that is also used to reference a social group. “Cheugy,” for example, is Generation Z slang for “out of date,” especially for things that used to be trendy.

A cliché, similar to slang and idioms, has an audience-focused definition, as it is a word or phrase used so often that it annoys the audience. As the Oxford English Dictionary writes, a cliché is a phrase “regarded as unoriginal or trite due to overuse.”

Borrowed from French, cliché comes from the printing process when a metal plate was used to physically transfer ink to paper. The term echoes the imitative sound of the plate coming off the page and was a way to represent an image again and again in nearly identical form. The dictionary notes that the earliest recorded use of the word with its current meaning was in an 1881 complaint about “the constant and facile clichés of diction.” Even the early printing usage sometimes fits well with the language sense today: From 1854, “When we . . . are pressed for time, we employ clichee moulds.”

Words are words, until they get used together and their sum total meaning is different from what it would be as just added-up parts. Let’s go back to the “kick the bucket” idiom, which means “to die” for many people and not actually to strike a container with your foot. There are thousands of idioms in English, and some of those become clichés. Yet even cliches can have longevity: “Red-letter day,” “baker’s dozen” and “devil’s advocate” have been around for centuries.

Peeling back the layers of the cliché

If you are hearing a combination of words for the first time, it cannot be a cliché for you, no matter how often other people have heard it. However, if you hear that combo of words over and over again, like a popular song on the radio, it might dip into the cliché category, especially if you are tired of hearing it.

For some audiences, “adulting” has become a cliché. Here, we have a noun shifted to a new word as a verb: to adult. When that verb then takes on an -ing suffix, it means “carrying out tasks as a responsible grown-up.” Now it’s an idiom. Its new usage is socially tied to millennials, who experience that transitional phase into adulthood at different — usually later — stages than past generations. Therefore, it is also a slang term and can be used to show off millennial status. Because of its sudden popularity, some folks, like Gen Zers, may feel it is being used too much. Its overuse would make it a cliché for that audience.

Still, there are layers of meaning to different combinations of words, and those layers often depend on who is speaking and who is listening.

Take “devil’s advocate,” for example. This idiom has been around for centuries, but its usage has more recently dipped pointedly into cliché for many women and minorities who recognize it as a rhetorical move — often used by people with more privilege — to deny or downplay personal experiences of discrimination.

The speaker may not identify “devil’s advocate” as a cliché, but those listeners who are frustrated by its harmful overuse certainly do.

Slang works similarly. Older generations may become annoyed when younger speakers constantly develop and overuse new slang terms. Remember “yeet“? It was popular with Gen Z speakers, but even they may now roll their eyes at those who use such outdated clichés.

Google Ngram showing percentage of sample books (y-axis) that contain selected cliches since 1900.

Why do people use cliches?

People typically don’t intend to use a cliché. They are going with a trusted tool in their lexical toolbox, and certain ones frame their conversations.

Particular words may be a cliche for small groups. If you are part of a regular meeting where that one guy always jumps in with “The fact of the matter is . . . ,” you may cringe at that phrase. But it’s not the phrase’s fault; it’s that guy’s fault for overusing it in that context. Whether or not they are the best tools to use in conversation, clichés are the most accessible.

Conversations are like road trips. We often steer them in certain directions and away from others. We use certain words to alert listeners to turns in the conversation. In driving, we find stop signs in many places, but it would be silly to call a stop sign a cliche: Its predictable shape and color make it immediately recognizable. Words can be used the same way. Signposts like “First,” “Second,” “So,” and “Overall” are used — and used extremely frequently — to help audiences, and most of them are harmless.

Many things that have become cliché were once popular. So people may use clichés to fit in with others, to identify or differentiate their social groups or just to connect with people through familiar language use. Once these clichés are overused, the hippest or most socially aware among us begin to steer the conversation in a different direction. The rest of us usually follow along.

If you are already aggravated with someone who is talking, especially in frustrating contexts, one of the most human things you can do is identify something wrong with their language. If they lean in with a harmless cliché like “To be honest,” you may roll your eyes. But a bit of empathy might allow you to skip the banal words and focus on the intended meaning that follows.

Likewise, if you find yourself using clichés with a hurtful impact — like condescendingly trying to correct someone with a “Well, actually . . . ” — you might skip those words and their intended meaning altogether.

But for National Cliché Day, let’s celebrate how useful cliches can be, as a ready tool for conversation or a starting point for new phrases — which may well become future clichés.

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Kirk Hazen, Professor of Linguistics, West Virginia University and Jordan Lovejoy, Postdoctoral Fellow, University of Minnesota

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

Men spread more respiratory aerosols than women, study finds

In March 2020, a two-and-a-half hour choir practice in Washington state became one of the first COVID-19 “superspreader” events in the United States to be documented — providing the first hint of a connection between singing and emission of SARS-CoV-2 viral particles.

A couple months after the outbreak, the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) published a report detailing that only one person who attended the practice had COVID-19 symptoms. That one symptomatic person led to 33 out of the 61 choir singers testing positive for the coronavirus. Three people were hospitalized and two died. The CDC estimated there were an additional 20 probable cases, too.

This case study raised many questions about why this event led to such a big outbreak. Was singing to blame? Twenty months after the infamous choir outbreak, researchers now know that airborne transmission of infectious respiratory particles plays an important role in how the virus spreads. Yet airborne transmission appears to be affected by the volume of one’s breath — meaning, the volume at which someone is talking (or singing), say. And, surprisingly, sex might factor into the equation as well, according to a new study published this week in Environmental Science and Technology Letters via open access.

John Volckens, an aerosol scientist and professor in the Colorado School of Public Health at Colorado State University (CSU), told Salon he got the idea for the study when he met co-author Dan Goble, director of the CSU School of Music, Theatre and Dance. 

“He was pining to me about how the performing arts industry had been totally shut down,” Volckens explained, to which he “foolishly” told Goble he could possibly help. Volckens explained that the first challenge was figuring out how to measure what comes out of one’s mouth — meaning, “quantifying” breath for different activities, say, singing, talking and the like. Then, Volckens said about asking a question of safety: “how can we control those emissions or make it safer to do those activities?” 


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And thus the idea for the study was born. After raising $100,000, the team of scientists were able to use an aerosol testing chamber and recruit about 100 volunteers ranging in age from 12 to 61. Volunteers participated by singing, talking or playing instruments while equipment captured and measured the respiratory particles they were producing. The scientists captured the respiratory particles while the volunteers were both masked and unmasked.

The results confirmed a long suspicion that many had: singing produces more aerosols. In fact, 77 percent more than talking.

Even more curiously, researchers were able to observe a difference in aerosols between gender and age. The researchers found that adults produced 62% more aerosols than children, while males produced more aerosols than females.

“Men emit maybe 30 percent, on average, more particles than women,” Volckens told Salon. “But that’s largely because men have bigger lungs.” That, Volckens said, “suggests that men could spread the disease more effectively.” Yet he noted that there are many other factors that play into infection. 

Volckens elaborated that this is just a “small piece of puzzle,” but this information could help inform future precautions that are taken to slow the spread of COVID-19.

“Our results did show that men emit more than women, and adults emit more than children, and that singing is worse than talking,” Volckens said. But he said the most important finding was that “if you account for how much CO2 comes out of the party, and you account for how loud the person is vocalizing, the differences between men and women and adults and children go away.” As he explained, if one wanted to monitor for infection risk, measuring CO2 levels and volume levels during indoor speaking were a good metric to measure the “cursory indicator of infection risk” at events.

This remains a hypothetical risk indicator, as Volckens alluded to before, and still needs more study. One of the most pressing questions that scientists have yet to answer is how many viral particles are required to be inhaled to lead to an infection.

“It’s the most important question that we don’t know yet,” Volckens said. “Once we know the infectious dose or even have a good idea, we can start to estimate things like distancing and ventilation rates and exposure time, with much more certainty, to provide better guidance and advice.”

While scientists are working on it, Volckens added one of the biggest obstacles to studying this is capturing the virus once it is emitted.

The study also affirms the public policy decision to shut down live theater at the dawn of the pandemic. As the study found, the way in which performers talk and sing during live performances likely increases infection risk.

“The good news for the performing arts industry is they took the precautionary principle, they shut down,” Volckens said. “I can tell you now that that was the right choice and lives were saved.”

15 things to do with your family this Thanksgiving (besides eating)

If you’re not in the kitchen preparing the meal for the rest of your family, it’s likely you’re kicked back on the couch with a pumpkin ale, snacking on the cheeseboard your host curated. And while Thanksgiving relaxation certainly has its place, there are plenty of activities the whole family can participate in (and we mean besides a turkey trot).

Below, we’ve gathered some of our staff’s favorite traditions, as well as some new ones you can try out with your family this year.

“My husband and I purposely make too much pie and then do pie milkshakes the next day.” -Maurine Hainsworth, Senior Copywriter

My mom and I bake together on Thanksgiving (and also Christmas)! My mom is not much of a kitchen person the rest of the year, but she really enjoys the act of making something special around holidays, so traditionally it’s been the only time we work together to prepare something. It’s been some of my favorite memories together.” -Kaleigh Embree, Senior Customer Care Specialist

Do a mini pumpkin hunt! Just like an Easter egg hunt, but with little tiny pumpkins. It’s simple: get an accurate count of how many pumpkins are scattered around, and send the kids (and adults!) off hunting.

“My mom, sister, and I all share the turkey ‘tail’ before carving. It’s silly because it’s really nothing, but I look forward to it every year.” -Sarah Yaffa, Senior Data Analyst

“With my mom’s family we play Kubb (also known as ‘viking chess’). So much fun to get bundled up and go outside for a couple of hours for some Kubb fun!’ -Sam Brahler, Associate Account Manager

“My dad gets the turkey fryer out and brings it to my aunt’s house for the annual dinner. It’s like a mini-family reunion in South Carolina. -Katasha Harley, SVP and Head of People and Culture

Sure, watching Family Feud with your crew (and throwing your hands up in exasperation when they don’t get the right answers) is a pastime all its own, but what if you pitted two teams against each other in Thanksgiving-themed Family Feud? This might be a game for the ages.

“Incredibly random, but we always watch two Thanksgiving-themed TV shows (from Chuck and WKRP in Cincinnati).” –Kelly Vaughan, Staff Writer

“For the past 6 years since my husband and I got married we typically do a large joint Thanksgiving between both sides of our family. And whenever we host it my husband and I go to the flower mart in downtown LA to pick out all the flowers for the table and then I design the center piece.” -Alli Guglielmino, VP, Strategic Partnerships

“My family used to sing the 12 days of Christmas… on Thanksgiving. My grandma had little sheets of paper with the different parts and would hand them out to everyone—they were probably printed 40+ years ago.” -Anna Graney, Project Manager, Brand Creative

Corn hole is definitely an American summer tradition, but it’s also perfect for a fall tradition. Crisp air and family teams make this game all the more interesting.

“Since I was a baby, the tradition passed down from my Father’s (Italian) side of the family is that the kids make pizza on Thanksgiving eve, supervised by the Dads, while the Moms are busy prepping for the big day. It kept us busy and fed us dinner! My sister and brother continue this with their kids and families as well!” -Liz Fodera, Senior Director, Category Management

“We do Tom Hanksgiving all through November, in which we watch only Tom Hanks movies.” -Josh Dion, Senior Video Editor

What better time to research your family tree than Thanksgiving? You can sign up for a service like Ancestry, or if your family hasn’t jumped on the 23&Me train yet, it’s the perfect time to find out what you’re all (literally) made of.

“We always watch the Gilmore Girls Thanksgiving episode!” –Rebecca Firkser, Assigning Editor

Ina Garten’s sheet pan trick will change how you make bacon

Of all the reality competition drama the show could bring, the thing that made me yell most at my television recently was the horrible way a contestant cooked up some breakfast bacon on “The Circle.” As far as I’m concerned, sloppily pushing a few slices of Oscar Mayer around a pan should have qualified as an instant blocking, anywhere. The only act against bacon more criminal would be microwaving it.

Have you, too, been cooking bacon wrong your whole life? Do you not even know you’re doing it wrong? Friend, as you are now, I once was. Then the Barefoot Contessa showed me the way.

I doubt Ina Garten invented putting bacon in the oven, but she definitely perfected and popularized it. Her method has one ingredient, two steps, and is absolutely foolproof. You cook the bacon on the oven. That’s it, that’s the recipe.


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Oven bacon means you can be cooking your bacon and not even thinking about it while getting other important stuff done — flipping pancakes, boiling pasta, hitting the bread with tomato and lettuce. It means each slice is evenly cooked, with no weird flabby, fatty bits curled around charred ones. It means your stovetop is not covered in grease splatters. It means you’ll want to cook bacon more often. It just makes everything better and easier, and I can’t think of too many improvements that do that and don’t even cost money.

If, for aesthetic reasons, you want your bacon exceptionally flat, you can weight a smaller pan on top while you roast it. If you want to experiment with flavors, you can add some chopped garlic, or a big grind of pepper, or a drizzle of maple syrup to the pan. But it’s all entirely optional, just something to do with all that spare time you have now from not having to wipe oil off your walls. You’ll never go back to the stovetop again.

***

Oven roasted bacon
Inspired by Ina Garten

Makes 10 – 12 slices of cooked bacon

Ingredients:

  • 1⁄2 pound of thick cut bacon

Directions:

  1. Preheat your oven to 400°F.
  2. Line a large sheet pan with parchment paper or foil.
  3. Lay the bacon on the pan, making sure the slices don’t touch. (Otherwise they’ll stick together.)
  4. Roast about 20 minutes, until browned and crisp. Peep in after 15 minutes or so to check on everything. You don’t even need to flip the bacon over. You may, if your oven is erratic, want to turn the pan.
  5. Drain your bacon on a paper towel lined plate or baking sheet. Be amazed.

Bonus: A big pool of bacon fat and a hot oven are a terrible thing to waste. With a little foresight, you can roast up a pan of vegetables — just have them cut up and ready to go in once you’ve finished the bacon. Add them to the pan with a little salt and pepper, stir to toss in the fat, and roast about a half hour or so. I did this with diced butternut squash the other day and then just warmed up it all for dinner. NO REGRETS.

 

More of our favorite breakfast recipes: 

 

“Yellowjackets” is a fantastic, terrifying plummet into the darkness of female desire and rage

Women are judged more harshly than men when it comes to, well, you name it. “Yellowjackets” tests that theory by a bonfire built mainly for survival purposes, save for the gruesome hunt that precedes it. But it puts an even finer point on that notion when we see best friends Jackie (Ella Purnell) and Shauna (Sophie Nélisse) deride a local pizza parlor’s sign reading, “We’re Proud of Our Boys Varsity Baseball – Go Jackets!”

It’s 1996, and their town doesn’t seem to care that the girls’ soccer team is the one on its way to the national championship, until their plane goes down and they disappear for 19 months.

“Yellowjackets” is one of those series destined to attract “Lost” comparisons. The parallels are obvious, of course. To write it off as such ignores the essential element setting it apart from the lesser survivor dramas that have come before it, like the fact everyone on that plane knows each other. At least they think they do.

Related: How can the “Lost” finale not suck?

Days into their ordeal they start to understand the truth of each more fully, which is where the story transforms from an ordinary survival drama into a disconcerting, savage curiosity. Series creators Ashley Lyle and Bart Nickerson ask their characters to straddle a past and present interrupted and reset by an intense spell of being lost in the deep wilderness and slowly unmask the ways that ordeal impacted them.

There may come a point when some wonder whether the trail of plot crumbs may be too sparse and question whether it’s leading to a season-ending revelation strong enough enough to alleviate those doubts and sell another season. But that won’t happen before viewers take in its fantastic, terrifying plummet into the darkness of female desire and rage.

The pilot introduces Shauna, Jackie and teammates Taissa (Jasmin Savoy Brown) and Natalie (Sophie Thatcher) ably enough as the fierce queens of the team’s starting lineup. A doomed plane trip into the wilderness rearranges that hierachy, as we see some time after they’ve been stranded in the wilderness and have resorted to hunting one of their own. That cruel scene opens the story, letting us know what we’re getting into.

Every stereotype about women’s stories hints that would be an asset, until the script cuts to the ritualized cannibalism. That raises questions that haunt the survivors 25 years after the crash.

Nobody’s quite ready to let it rest. Not the middle-aged version of Shauna, played by Melanie Lynskey, a housewife with a subsumed well of suspicions and rage, and a daughter who is about as old as she was when her plane crashed. Not Natalie, a socially maligned teenager who matured into a relapsing addict played by Juliette Lewis. Definitely not Taissa, who as an adult (played by Tawny Cypress) channels her aggressive urge to excel into a run for political office.

At every turn people prod them to reveal what really happened out in those woods, but none of them want to say – knowing what it would mean if they were to reveal the truth.

The six episodes provided for review indicate answers won’t be coming any time soon, and the invigorating performances sell the idea that delaying isn’t necessarily the worst choice. But that only holds as long as the plot’s rope maintains its tension even as it tosses out additional length.

In the short term “Yellowjackets” holds all the essential ingredients needed to brew a thriller worth investing in. The crash scene is agonizing; the direct aftermath is gruesome. The butchery that comes later puts all of that in perspective. Wisely the writers quickly embark upon the process of creating more questions with each answer, which is a difficult build but worthwhile when the strategy works. Still, for all of director Karyn Kusama’s masterful establishment of tone and vacillation between the girls’ revelry in their invincibility throughout in the pilot, it’s hard to quiet the doubting voice that wonders how much patience audiences with have with the careful pacing. This is a 10-episode season that moves as if it has 20 episodes to get us to the season finale. People love such lengthy teases to a point.


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The same is true for timeline leaps, although here they’re organized with a discipline that sells the essentiality of knowing who these women were in the past to explain their present selves. And the cast, anchored by Lyndsey’s shifting tonality, is stellar. She and the show’s other marquee names are the main bait audience lures, and they don’t disappoint – especially once Lewis’ Natalie pairs with Christina Ricci‘s Misty.

Natalie and Misty are the ensemble’s most overtly extreme characters. As teenagers Thatcher roots Natalie in a jungle of feral damage, while Samantha Hanratty’s mousy adolescent version of Misty is desperate to be liked, leading the team to underappreciate her intelligence and untapped skill.

When the two are thrust together as adults Lewis and Ricci channel an “Odd Couple” energy where Oscar truly hates Felix, whose fastidiousness may be a symptom of something keenly awry. Augmenting the alarm bells we feel whenever Ricci appears is the character’s off-putting devotion to show tunes. Between that detail and Misty’s tragic fashion sense, the performer is clearly having a great time camping it up on this show.

The beauty of Lynskey’s and Cypress’ separate performances is the way they conceal how dangerous they can be, but just barely. I hope Cypress receives the credit she’s due for the range she exercises in a role other actors would make too extreme or solemn. The glory of her Taissa is in the way she shifts between the studied politician, the protective mother, the passionate wife and a frightening mask that flashes when she’s tested.

Brown isn’t as subtle about hiding the teenage Taissa’s power and the brutal extent to which she’ll go to impose it, but she doesn’t have to be. She’s the fire in this group that contrasts with Nélisse’s Shauna, whose quiet poker face is a precursor to Lynskey’s dualistic portrayal.

Lyle and Nickerson’s writing team make its heaviest investments in developing the tangled underbrush each woman conceals beneath the faces she shows the other, first on the soccer field and later in the the woods. In each arena teamwork is essential to survival. Obviously somewhere along the line that lauded principle devolves into dangerous tribalism.

Beguiling as the performances are, “Yellowjackets” displays as much potential to go off the rails as it does to interrogate our preconceived notions about acceptable female archetypes and depictions in popular culture. Whatever disharmony that arises in the group is justified by their circumstances.

And the effects convincingly depict the crash and its aftermath in such a terrifying fashion that the “Lost” crash seems humane. That show’s producers were bound by network TV’s limitation, whereas this drama’s production design maximizes the wreckage’s brutality to such an extent as to make a person rethink any upcoming holiday travel.

That horror is quickly supplanted by the dread of a wilderness with no roads offering the hope of an exit or easy rescue by anyone passing through – a metaphor for the real risk the story runs of losing its direction. The first season is a web of small mysteries connected to a present one that seems to have a running timer attached to it but, six episodes along, hasn’t moved as far from its introduction as one might have expected it to.

There’s also the concerns attached to the lurid aspects of the plot that make us more curious about the feral “Lord of the Flies” scenery than the richer secret of who these women really were and are to each other once the illusion of friendship dissolves completely. The writers seed the plot with one significant shocker at the outset and take a while to get to the next which, again, could be perfectly fine.

So much about “Yellowjackets” depends on whether the first season touches down without a hitch, and whether its mystery is sticky enough to keep the fans it wins along the way invested. But I can’t foresee any reason one wouldn’t want to stay on this road for the full hike if only to see whether the view ahead is worth sticking with it.

“Yellowjackets” premieres Sunday at 10 p.m. on Showtime. The premiere is currently streaming for free at Sho.com. Watch the trailer for the series below, via YouTube.

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From cows to COVID: The spooky origins of vaccines

Back in the 18th century, it was a wonder how anyone ever survived a trip to the doctor. Many didn’t. England’s drug stores were stocked with bulls’ penises, frogs’ lungs, and powdered Egyptian mummy, which was evidently used against tuberculosis. Syphilis, known as the “Great Pox,” was treated with mercury. Never mind that it made you slobber and eventually go mad. The Scottish physician John Brown, the author of “Elementa Medicinae,” simply gave his patients roast beef, opium, and booze. Many people thought he was pretty much a genius.

Vaccination, too, arose during this frenzied period of trial and error, which, if you squint a little, looks a lot like the early days of the Covid-19 outbreak, when desperate doctors were willing to prescribe just about anything to save their patients. What makes vaccines different? For one, they actually work. The story of the Covid-19 vaccines, more than anything, is about how medicine has evolved from a spooky art to a rigorous science.

In the 18th century, one of the major diseases doctors were contending with was smallpox. A periodic scourge of humanity, it caused disfiguring pustules on all those unlucky enough to suffer from it. The most common form killed around one in three people it infected, and those who survived sometimes ended up blind. It was caused by a virus, but people back then didn’t even know what viruses were. Around the world, the longstanding method to prevent it involved grinding up the scabs of a person who had a mild case and then inhaling it like snuff or else rubbing into a cut on the skin, called variolation. Variolation caused high fevers, rashes, and sometimes death. Sure, it could protect a person from smallpox, but it was not something anyone wanted to voluntarily subject themselves to if they didn’t have to.

Over in England in 1774, the village of Yetminster was facing a growing smallpox epidemic and variolation was their only option. A farmer by the name of Benjamin Jesty was living in a stone house in the village center with his wife, two boys, and a baby girl. Like many people of that era, he was aware that dairymaids often emerged unscathed from smallpox epidemics. Jesty himself had two dairymaids, who failed to contract the disease even when they had taken care of stricken relatives. Previously, however, the women had reported developing pustules on their hands from the cows they were milking.

Jesty himself had suffered from this mild infection, known as cowpox, which was caused by a virus closely related to smallpox, but his family hadn’t. He grabbed a stocking needle — used for knitting — and headed out on a mission to find a herd of cattle with cowpox. He found them about 2 miles away at the pasture of a man named Mr. Elford. He bent down underneath one of the docile creatures and poked at a lesion on its udder. Then, he turned to his wife and inserted the needle just below her elbow. Her arm swelled up and she developed a fever that lasted a week before recovering. He repeated the procedure on the two young boys, ages 2 and 3, who fared better. Jesty’s family never suffered from the disease, despite multiple epidemics passing through their village. And when a local surgeon variolated the boys with actual smallpox 15 years later, they showed none of the typical symptoms.

Jesty’s tale was just another bit of folklore until another man, Edward Jenner, would end up rallying the medical community around this concept a few years later. Like Jesty, he had heard stories of milkmaids avoiding smallpox, but he was a physician learning the ropes of the scientific method. “Don’t think, but try,” his mentor told him. “Be patient, be accurate.” In 1796, he started testing out the method on several subjects, including the 8-year-old son of a local worker. Rather than obtaining the pus from a cow udder, he first took it from the hand of a young woman with cowpox lesions. All of them proved to be protected by the pus.

Jenner didn’t know exactly how or why it worked, but he saw its potential as “becoming essentially beneficial to mankind.” For a while, children were just vaccinated arm-to-arm. Jenner would stick the cowpox pus under the skin of one volunteer, and, a week later, when a new blister erupted, he would retrieve it for the next person. Not the most sanitary method, it would later lead to outbreaks of syphilis and hepatitis. When Jenner wrote about his successes, he called the method variolae vaccinae, which is just Latin for cowpox. But eventually, the term evolved to refer to all vaccines.

For the next two centuries, vaccinology had a reputation for being somewhat unscientific. While the buttoned-up chemists working in the pharmaceutical world in the middle of the 20th century were churning out easy-to-synthesize drugs like ibuprofen, vaccinologists were an odd breed, brewing up strange concoctions that relied on wild hunches. The basic idea of vaccination was to subject the body to a simulation of the wild pathogen, something that our immune system would learn to recognize, but that was not dangerous in itself. The measles and mumps vaccines were cultured in chicken eggs; some flu vaccines were made by growing viruses at cold temperatures; the first hepatitis B vaccine was made by purifying and sterilizing the blood of people who inject drugs and gay men who had the illness.

But that hepatitis vaccine, Heptavax-B, introduced in the 1980s, was actually a huge step forward because it delivered to the body just a piece of the virus, a virus protein. This more targeted approach eliminated many of the risks and downsides that came from giving people a whole virus, even one that had been weakened, split in two, or otherwise mangled. It also had the benefit of stimulating the body to produce higher numbers of the antibodies that could neutralize the real virus and fewer of the immune system misfires that could lead to a dangerous reaction.

A few years after the introduction of Heptavax-B, the key protein would no longer be isolated from human blood but would be manufactured in genetically engineered yeast — a scientific first for vaccines. Indeed, it was the advancement of gene sequencing and splicing techniques throughout the 1970s and 1980s that would finally bring vaccinology into the modern era. This revolution is part of what allowed scientists to safely develop the Covid-19 vaccines in record time. The mRNA and adenovirus-vector vaccines currently approved in the United States contain the genetic instructions to make just the telltale spike protein of the coronavirus.

That brings us to one last strange innovation, which is what allows those genetic instructions, at least when they come in the form of mRNA, to sneak across our cell membranes. Katalin Karikó, the Hungarian biochemist credited with one of the key mRNA innovations, began her scientific career behind the Iron Curtain when reagents were scarce. She once had to follow a step-by-step recipe from the 1950s to extract a key ingredient from cow brains in order to make tiny bubbles of fat known as liposomes, which could shuttle drugs across cell membranes. Scientists dreamed of doing the same with RNA, but that molecule has a negative charge to it, and the lipid couldn’t have a permanently positive charge or it would destroy the cell membrane. In the late 1990s and early 2000s, they began to find tricks to coax the RNA and lipids to combine to form tiny, solid spheres, known as lipid nanoparticles, which the vaccines from Moderna and Pfizer depend on.

We’ve certainly come a long way since Benjamin Jesty’s days. Unlike ivermectin, hydroxychloroquine, or whatever unproven therapies your uncle is touting on Facebook, the Covid-19 vaccines have now, in all likelihood, prevented hospitalization or death in millions of people. They represent the culmination of decades of research and scientists know how and why they work better than many widely used drugs. There’s no longer any reason to keep living in the dark ages. You can just get vaccinated.


Brendan Borrell is a biologist and journalist who has written about science and the environment for dozens of outlets, including Outside, Bloomberg Businessweek, Nature, The New York Times, Scientific American, and Smithsonian. He lives in Los Angeles and “The First Shots” is his first book.

This article was originally published on Undark. Read the original article.

Climate change is gonna tick you off: Bloodsucking pests slated for population boom

Climate change threatens many charismatic animal species with extinction, from polar bears to pikas to giraffes. Yet a few fortunate animals are seeing their range and populations actually grow as the Earth warms. Unfortunately for humans, that includes ticks and mosquitos. 

According to a July article in the Journal of Medical Entomology, the warming climate is going to help ticks in some regions more easily survive and have longer active seasons. While extreme weather events like heat waves, cold snaps and flooding may make it harder for ticks to survive, the hardships caused by climate change to human activity are likely to aid tick-borne pathogens. They anticipated that ticks would expand their ranges toward the poles (and possibly pull away from the overheating tropics), and move upslope in mountainous areas.

Specifically, deer ticks are seeing their ranges grow. A recent study in the scientific journal Pathogens described how the deer tick has expanded its population northward as the climate has warmed. This means that they will have an easier time spreading pathogens like Lyme disease, babesiosis, Powassan virus disease and many others.

Indeed, tick-borne diseases like these are thriving as a result. This month, a study in the Rhode Island Medical Journal found that incidences of Lyme disease, babesiosis and anaplasmosis have been increasing in the United States — and all of those are vectored by deer ticks. The authors noted that climate change is a partial possible cause; everything from land use changes to other environmental alterations could also be responsible.

Nor should we only worry about deer ticks. Lone star ticks — which, as their name signifies, used to be primarily confined to the southern US, and which transmit diseases like alpha-gal syndrome and ehrlichiosis — have been found as far north as Rhode Island. There have also been range expansions in southern New England for the Gulf Coast tick, which carries a bacteria similar to the one that causes Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever, and the invasive cattle tick, which can transmit Lyme disease and other illnesses. And this is just the northeastern United States: Ticks are expected to invade northern formerly-colder regions of the world from Russia to China.

Ticks flourish when air temperature is greater than 6°C to 7°C, when the humidity rate is above 85%, and when there are a large number of blood-delivering hosts in their immediate vicinity. As the planet’s atmosphere traps more carbon dioxide and other greenhouse gasses, these conditions will extend to areas of the planet where it previously did not. For instance, ticks are likely to find more areas to live in Europe, such as higher up in mountain ranges or farther north on the continent. Scientists discovered decades ago that one species of tick (which transmits a blood infection known as Babesia canis to dogs) expanded its range from the Mediterranean region to as far north as upper Germany. Across the pond, scientists studying the Rocky Mountain wood tick in Colorado found that climate change leads to quick and noticeable alterations in that tick species’ distribution and abundance.


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This is bad news for humans, as that tick carries a bunch of nasty pathogens — Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever, Colorado tick fever virus — and causes tick paralysis.

That foreshadows another, obvious problem with ticks doing well under climate change: Diseases like Lyme disease which are borne by ticks are going to benefit by their newfound prevalence. Ticks may even wind up reaching maturity at much younger ages due to climate change, meaning that humans will have to deal with a whole lot more of them a whole lot sooner. The length of time between the moment a tick egg is conceived until a tick has completed its larval and nymphal stages to become a full-fledged adult varies based on temperature, seasonal timing and the availability of hosts. If the temperature goes up beyond a certain point, that accelerates ticks’ developmental cycle, increase egg production and leads to higher population density. Not surprisingly, it also leads to the creation of new risk areas.

Ticks’ equally-hated cousin, the mosquitos, are going to have a similar red letter decade

In an eLife article published earlier this year, scientists found that mosquitos’ high rates of population growth, short generation times and evolutionary history make it likely that mosquitos will be able to adjust to the warming climate. The authors stressed that the information about mosquitos and climate change is incomplete, so many of their conclusions are educated guesses. Despite this, scientists have confirmed that “typical mosquito generation times and population growth rates are on par with those of species that have already demonstrated evolutionary responses to climate change.” Indeed, mosquitos have also been shown to have the genetic capacity, as well as evolutionary history, necessary to adapt to a warming climate.

“While climate adaptation has typically been studied in the context of conservation biology, population genetics theory suggests that evolutionary adaptation is most likely for short-lived species with high population growth rates—properties of many pest, pathogen, and vector species,” the authors explain. This has already proved to be the case for the European gypsy moth, “one of the world’s most destructive forest pests,” and for the Asian tiger mosquito, which carries diseases like dengue, yellow fever and chikungunya viruses.

As blood-suckers reliant on other animals to feed, ticks and mosquitoes share a kinship with viruses: because they need us to survive, they do not wish to kill us. Quite to the contrary, they want to be as close to us as possible. While human beings in more affluent parts of the world have developed relatively effective ways of keeping insect pests away, that will be harder to do once sea levels rise and there are millions of climate refugees.

While swarms of mosquitos and ticks are hardly a good thing, they are also probably not the worst problems likely to emerge due to climate change. Climate change is also going to cause extreme weather events like hurricanes and wildfires, widespread droughts, rising sea levels and supply chain disruptions leading to shortages of essential products like food.

Fox host hits Texas AG over ban on vaccine mandates for private businesses: “That’s not consistent”

Fox News host Chris Wallace challenged Texas Attorney General Ken Paxton to explain why Gov. Greg Abbott (R) has issued an executive order preventing private businesses from requiring Covid-19 vaccines for their employees.

During an interview on Fox News Sunday, Paxton argued that President Joe Biden and the federal government do not have the power to require companies with more than 100 employees to mandate vaccines or weekly testing for Covid-19.

Wallace pressed: “You say Texas companies should take care of their own workers so, given that, how do you justify the governor of Texas, Greg Abbott, issuing an executive order that bans any business in Texas from issuing a vaccine mandate and how do you justify the governor issuing a ban on all school districts on mask mandates — a ban that was overturned just this week by a federal judge?”

“So I justify it — the governor has the authority under state law in an emergency,” Paxton replied. “And so he has done just that. Obviously, it’s his view that these mask mandates are unnecessary and that vaccine requirements are also unnecessary so it’s my job as the state’s attorney to go defend what he’s done and what the legislature has done and I’m perfectly comfortable doing that.”


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“You said that Texas companies should take care of their own workers,” Wallace tried again. “Is that consistent with the governor’s executive order and your enforcement of that order, which bans companies from taking care of their own workers as they see fit?”

But Paxton insisted that Biden “doesn’t have the authority to force companies” to require vaccines.

“Yeah, but you said that the businesses should take care of their own workers and the governor is saying they can’t take care of their own workers as they see fit,” Wallace said. “They’re prohibited from deciding, if they so choose, to issue a vaccine mandate. That’s not consistent.”

But Paxton insisted that Biden “doesn’t have the authority to force companies” to require vaccines.

“Yeah, but you said that the businesses should take care of their own workers and the governor is saying they can’t take care of their own workers as they see fit,” Wallace said.

RELATED: Fox anchor Chris Wallace says “no” to election liars on his show: “I don’t want to hear their crap”

“I think your question is a little confusing,” Paxton complained. “But yes, the federal government has no authority to do this. Right now, we have OSHA guidelines that have not been authorized by the Congress. They absolutely have no authority to do this. The governor has a different authority under state law that the legislature has given him and he’s operating under that state law.”

“So he can tell private businesses what to do?” Wallace interrupted. “It’s OK and they can’t take care of their own?”

But Abbott refused to back down, asserting that “the states have more authority over these areas than the federal government.”

“And I would even question whether Congress has the authority,” he added.

Watch the video below:

The absolute best way to cook a turkey breast, according to so many tests

In Absolute Best TestsElla Quittner destroys the sanctity of her home kitchen in the name of the truth. She’s boiled dozens of eggs, mashed a concerning number of potatoes, and roasted more broccoli than she cares to recall. Today, she tackles turkey breast.

*.* *

There’s no less appealing cut of raw poultry than the turkey breast. If you don’t believe me, I invite you to stare one down for more than 30 seconds while ingesting a snack of any kind.

So when my editor emailed me with the subject line, “Fun Idea for Fall Absolute Best Tests,” and suggested rather cheerfully that I tackle said mammoth, pinkish mounds of turkey breasts for my next column, I considered moving to a new state and permanently changing my identity for plausible deniability.

But as Thanksgiving has approached, I’ve been forced to consider the reality: Many, myself included, will be tweaking our menus to accommodate smaller gatherings during the coronavirus pandemic—Thanksgivings for four, Thanksgivings for two, Thanksgivings for one plus a cat and a slate of Netflix originals. Also, I really hate packing.

Accordingly, I called my butcher and got to work avoiding eye contact with 20-plus pounds of poultry. My goal was to find the absolute best turkey breast recipe for Thanksgiving—or any occasion, really. Each recipe has a unique method and cooking time, which ranges from 45 minutes to several hours. One method calls for wrapping the turkey in a combination of plastic wrap and aluminum foil, whereas others simply roast the turkey breast in a traditional roasting pan. And like any good recipe that calls for cooking meat, it’s important to let the turkey rest before carving and serving it in order to lock in the flavorful juices. Behold, the results of my Absolute Best Tests: turkey breast edition.

Controls & Fine Print

I tested several different recipes and methods for cooking turkey breasts, but there were a few constants, which helped me determine the best recipe. First, I used bone-in, skin-on turkey breasts that were each roughly the same size. This particular cut takes longer to cook than boneless turkey breast, but also has the fatty skin that can crisp up beautifully when cooked in an oven in a roasting pan or in a cast-iron skillet. The breasts were seasoned only with butter, salt, and black pepper(except in the Torrisi method), and cooked until the meat in the thickest part registered 160°F on an instant-read meat thermometer (except in the Torrisi and Sous Vide methods).

Methods & Findings

Torrisi

This method for cooking bone-in turkey breast is based on the technique in Torrisi’s Turkey—except adjusted for bone-in, skin-on breasts—with a pared-down version of the glaze. Check out the Genius Recipe for more details and tips.

  1. Prepare a wet brine: In a medium saucepan, bring 2 cups of water to a boil with 1/2 cup each of kosher salt and granulated sugar. Let cool, and add 1 1/2 quarts of cold water. Add 1 turkey breast and refrigerate between 12 and 24 hours.
  2. Preheat the oven to 375°F for the glaze: Toss 4 garlic heads (lightly smashed) with 2 tablespoons of olive oil, and roast covered for about 1 hour, until the garlic is soft. Let cool, then squeeze the cloves into a mortar. Add 1/4 cup of honey, 2 teaspoons of kosher salt, and a big pinch of pepper. Blend with a pestle (or food processor, according to original recipe) until smooth and homogenous.
  3. Adjust the oven to 250°F.
  4. Dry the turkey breast with paper towels. Wrap 4 times in plastic wrap and once in aluminum foil. Insert an oven-safe thermometer into the breast and place on a rack in a roasting pan. Add water to reach to just below the rack.
  5. Roast for 2 1/2 to 3 hours, until the internal temperature reaches 135°F.
  6. Toward the end of the cooking time, prepare an ice bath.
  7. Remove the breast from the oven and increase the temperature to 425°F.
  8. Submerge the wrapped turkey (thermometer still inserted) into the ice bath for 5 minutes, then remove and unwrap.
  9. Brush glaze on all sides of the breast. Roast for at least 15 minutes, until the glaze is golden.
  10. Let rest 10 minutes before slicing and serving.

Not far into the Torrisi method, I was reminded of the time my mother and I walked into what looked like a spa in Greece in pursuit of massages, though neither of us spoke the language. She pointed to the least expensive treatment on a list and we were both shocked when, moments later, a man ushered her into a small room, wrapped her in many layers of plastic wrap until she couldn’t move her arms or legs, and then shot warm, lotion-like goo in between her body and the plastic.

Preparing a turkey breast for the Torrisi method was very similar in process, though unlike my mom’s massage, it produced a delicious result. The roasted garlic–honey glaze was the best-smelling concoction I’ve had in my oven all year (and full disclosure, I eat frozen pizza basically every day). The meat—which was wet-brined in a solution that included sugar, unlike the other wet brine trial—was sweet, succulent, tender, more like ham than poultry. The skin was far from the crispiest of the bunch (the recipe doesn’t call for skin or bone, in its defense), but its inclusion was more than worthwhile: Coated in garlic and roasted to a crackle, I would’ve missed it were it gone.

How To Cook Turkey Breast With A Sous Vide

This method is based on the technique in Serious Eats’ Sous Vide Turkey Breast With Crispy Skin—except adjusted to cook the breast with its bone still in, for the sake of method comparison. Check out the full recipe for more details and tips.

  1. Carefully remove the skin from the breast and set aside.
  2. Heat a sous vide water bath to 145°F.
  3. Pat-dry the breast with paper towels. Rub all over with 2 tablespoons of softened butter, then season generously with salt and pepper. Place inside a sous vide–friendly bag. Lower the open bag carefully into the bath to let out air, until you can seal the bag above the water to keep the turkey dry. If you need to weigh the breast down to keep it below the surface, tongs clipped to the side of the bath work well.
  4. Cook at 145°F until the meat registers 145°F in the thickest part of the breast, 2 1/2 to 3 1/2 hours.
  5. Meanwhile, heat the oven to 400°F. Lay the skin flat on a parchment-lined sheet pan and season with salt and pepper. (To keep skin extra-flat, you can top with another sheet of parchment and sheet pan, though mine was fine uncovered.) Roast until golden and crispy, about 35 minutes.
  6. You can either serve the meat sliced next to the skin, or drape the skin over the breast meat before slicing.

You may feel as if you never want to touch turkey again after lifting a plastic bag of sous-vided breast from a 145°F water bath like it’s an ancient object you found at the bottom of the sea. But once you get over its initial aesthetics, you’ll accept that the sous vide turkey breast’s meat is actually so tender and delicious, you might mistake it for mortadella with your eyes closed. As suggested by Serious Eats, I removed the breast’s skin and crisped it separately in the oven. When still warm, the skin moulded nicely over the breast, such that it didn’t look weird or detached when slicing. The skin didn’t fully render its fat, which meant that, in addition to being delightfully crisp, it was the smallest bit chewy, a true treat.

How To Roast Turkey Breast Without A Brine

This roasting method is loosely based on the technique in Ina Garten’s Herb-Roasted Turkey Breast. It ensures that the white meat stays juicy and tender while the skin transforms into two of the most important turkey traits: crispy and golden brown. Check out the full recipe for more details and tips.

  1. Heat the oven to 325°F.
  2. Pat-dry the breast with paper towels. Rub with 2 tablespoons of softened butter, on and underneath the skin. Season all over with salt and pepper. Place on a rack that fits snuggly in a roasting pan.
  3. Roast for 90 to 105 minutes, until the thickest part of the meat registers 160°F on an instant-read thermometer, and the skin is crispy and golden.
  4. Let rest, covered with foil, for 15 minutes before slicing and serving.

Brining a turkey breast is kind of a pain, so I’m pleased to report that this trial was still satisfyingly juicy. It had slightly less moisture than its head-to-head counterparts (the Dry-Brine and Wet-Brine breasts roasted at 325°F), but not so much less that I’d say you absolutely need to brine. It did lack a bit of the flavor of the Wet-Brine breast, having its seasoning concentrated closer to the surface. Its skin was unexpectedly crispier than that of the Dry-Brine (more on that below), but a hair less crispy than that of the Wet-Brine, if you’ll allow me to say “hair” so close to “wet skin” and “crispy.”

Dry-Brine Turkey Breast Recipe

This dry-brining method is based on Russ Parsons’ Judy Bird. The roasting method is inspired by the technique in Ina Garten’s Herb-Roasted Turkey Breast. Check out the full recipes for more details and tips.

  1. Dry-brine your turkey breast: Pat-dry, then and rub with about 1 tablespoon of salt per 5 pounds of turkey, plus a few big pinches of freshly ground pepper. (Note: For a more nuanced brine, here’s where you’d add sugar or other seasonings, like dried herbs, citrus zest, or spices.) Place the turkey in a plastic bag or container, and refrigerate for up to 3 days. For the last 8 to 12 hours, let the breast sit uncovered in the refrigerator for the crispiest possible skin.
  2. Heat the oven to 325°F.
  3. Remove the breast from the refrigerator and rub with 2 tablespoons of softened butter or olive oil, on and underneath the skin. Season all over with salt and pepper. Place on a rack that fits into a roasting pan.
  4. Roast for 90 to 105 minutes, until the meat in the thickest part (generally the thigh) registers 160°F on an instant-read thermometer, and the skin is crispy and golden.
  5. Let rest, covered with foil, 15 minutes before slicing and serving.

Historically I’ve loved dry-brining poultry, and not just for the shock value of my roommate opening the fridge door to a bare, raw chicken breast splayed between our other groceries like it owns the place. It’s a method meant to increase juiciness, while preserving and improving skin crispiness.

Dry-brining a turkey breast produced very moist, firm meat, more like the texture of high-quality deli turkey. While the skin did not crisp quite as effectively as I’d imagined based on my experiences dry-brining chicken, it did tighten and clench, almost as if the breast had had a facelift. The combination, while unexpected, was delicious.

Wet-Brine Turkey Breast Recipe

This roasting method is loosely based on the technique in Ina Garten’s Herb-Roasted Turkey Breast. Check out the full recipe for more details and tips.

  1. Prepare a wet-brine: In a medium saucepan, heat 2 cups of water until warm to the touch. Add 1/4 cup of kosher salt and some peppercorns. (Note: For a more nuanced brine, here’s where you’d add sugar or other seasonings, like herbs, citrus zest, or spices.) Stir to dissolve the salt and cool completely. Add 2 cups of cold water and 1 turkey breast. Cover and refrigerate between 12 and 24 hours.
  2. Heat oven to 325°F.
  3. Remove breast from brine and pat-dry with paper towels. Rub with 2 tablespoons of softened butter or olive oil, on and underneath the skin. Season all over with salt and pepper. Place on a rack that fits into a roasting pan.
  4. Roast for 90 to 105 minutes, until the meat in the thickest part registers 160°F on an instant-read thermometer, and the skin is crispy and golden.
  5. Let rest, covered with foil, for 15 minutes before slicing and serving.

This breast was a touch drier than the Dry-Brine Then Low-Heat Roast breast, and a touch less dry than the Low-Heat Roast (No Brine) breast, which is something I hope to never have to type again. Its skin was crunchier than that of either the Low-Heat Roast (No Brine) or the Dry-Brine Then Low-Heat Roast, though less crispy than that of the High-Heat Roast (No Brine). Its meat had a little more flavor than both Low-Heat Roast breasts.

Roasting Turkey Breast At A High Heat

This method for roasting bone-in turkey breast is loosely based on the technique in Bon Appetit‘s Butter-Roasted Turkey Breasts. The idea, as you probably gather from the title, is to crank the oven up to roast the turkey breasts quickly, rather than going low and slow. The cooking time takes less than one hour, which is ideal if you’re in a time crunch. Check out the full recipe for more details and tips.

  1. Heat the oven to 425°F.
  2. Pat-dry one turkey breast with paper towels. Rub with 2 tablespoons of softened butter, on and underneath the skin. Season all over with salt and pepper. Place on a rack that fits into a roasting pan.
  3. Roast for 44 to 55 minutes, until the meat in the thickest part registers 160°F on an instant-read thermometer, and the skin is crispy and golden.
  4. Let rest for 10 minutes before slicing and serving.

This breast had the crispiest, darkest skin, closest to that of a traditional Thanksgiving turkey. Its meat was surprisingly juicy right after cooking, though it became drier and a little crumbly within about an hour, relative to the breasts roasted at 325°F.

So, What’s The Best Way?

So after all of these tests, what is the best way to cook a turkey breast? Honestly, it depends on what you’re going for! If you prefer to skip the brine and want something truly exceptional, if unconventional, sous vide your breast and roast its skin separately in the oven. If you’ve got the time and interest to brine, go with a wet-brine—and add sugar, a la the Torrisi method, even if you’re sticking to a classic roast method. If you’ve got the supplies, try out the Torrisi method, with or without the bone and skin, for sweet, deeply flavored meat.

Speaking of roasting, a lower temperature (325°F) will give you tender meat for longer—and you can crank up the temp toward the end for darker, crunchier skin. And don’t forget about the caramelized pan drippings either—they’re the key to a super flavorful gravy. After all, what is gravy without turkey (or macaroni without cheese, peanut butter without jelly)?

Welcome to the last years of the American Century: It’s been an unmitigated disaster

On Feb. 17, 1941, less than 10 months before the Japanese struck Pearl Harbor and the U.S. found itself in a global war, Henry Luce, in an editorial in Life magazine (which he founded, along with Time and Fortune), declared the years to come “the American Century.”  He then urged this country’s leaders to “exert upon the world the full impact of our influence, for such purposes as we see fit.”

And he wasn’t wrong, was he? Eight decades later, who would deny that we’ve lived through something like an American century? After all, in 1945, the U.S. emerged triumphant from World War II, a rare nation remarkably unravaged by that war (despite the 400,000 casualties it had suffered). With Great Britain heading for the imperial sub-basement, Washington found itself instantly the military and economic powerhouse on the planet.

As it turned out, however, to “exert upon the world the full impact of our influence,” one other thing was necessary and, fortunately, at hand: an enemy. From then on, America’s global stature and power would, in fact, be eternally based on facing down enemies. Fortunately, in 1945, there was that other potential, if war-ravaged, powerhouse, the Soviet Union. That future “superpower” had been an ally in World War II, but no longer. It would thereafter be the necessary enemy in a “cold war” that sometimes threatened to turn all too hot. And it would, of course, ensure that what later came to be known as the military-industrial complex (and a nuclear arsenal capable of destroying many planets like this one) would be funded in a way once historically inconceivable in what might still have passed for peacetime. 

RELATED: Why is “liberal” media pushing an “America First” message and a new Cold War?

In 1991, however, after a disastrous war in Afghanistan, the Soviet empire finally collapsed in economic ruin. As it went down, hosannas of triumph rang out in a surprised Washington. Henry Luce, by then dead almost a quarter of a century, would undoubtedly have been thrilled.

The indispensable superpower

In the meantime, in those cold-verging-on-hot-war years, the U.S. ruled the roost in what came to be known as “the free world,” while its corporations came to economically dominate much of the planet. Though it would be a true global imperial power with hundreds of military bases scattered across every continent but Antarctica, there would prove to be significant limits to that power — and I’m not just thinking of the Soviet Union or its communist ally (later opponent), Mao Zedong’s China.

At the edges of what was then called “the Third World” — whether in Southeast Asia during and after the disastrous Vietnam War or in Iran after 1979 — American power often enough came a cropper in memorable ways. Still, in those years, on a planet some 25,000 miles in circumference, Washington certainly had a remarkable reach and, in 1991, when the Soviet Union disappeared, it seemed as if Luce had been a prophet of the first order. After all, the United States as the ultimate imperial power had — or so, at least, it appeared at that moment — been left without even a major power, no less another superpower, as an enemy on a planet that looked, at least to those in Washington, like it was ours for the taking. And indeed, take it we soon enough would try to do.

No wonder, in those years, American politicians and key officials filled the airwaves with self-congratulation and self-praise for what they liked to think of as the most “exceptional,” “indispensable,” “greatest” power on the planet and sure to remain so forever and a day.

In another sense, however, problems loomed instantly. Things were so desperate for the military-industrial complex in a country promised a cut in “defense” spending, then known as a “peace dividend,” thanks to the triumph over the Soviets, that enemies had to be created out of whole cloth. They were, it turned out, fundamental to the organization of American global power. A world without them was essentially inconceivable or, at least, inconvenient beyond imagining.  Hence, the usefulness of Iraqi autocrat Saddam Hussein, who would be not-quite-taken-down in the first Gulf War of 1991. 

Perhaps the classic example of the desperate need to create enemies, however, would occur early in the next century. Remember the “Axis of Evil” announced (and denounced) by President George W. Bush in his January 2002 State of the Union address? He called out three states — Iran, Iraq and North Korea — that then had not the slightest way of injuring the U.S. (“States like these, and their terrorist allies,” insisted the president, “constitute an axis of evil, arming to threaten the peace of the world. By seeking weapons of mass destruction, these regimes pose a grave and growing danger. They could provide these arms to terrorists, giving them the means to match their hatred. They could attack our allies or attempt to blackmail the United States. In any of these cases, the price of indifference would be catastrophic.”) Of course, this was, in part, based on the claim that Iraq might have just such weapons of mass destruction (it didn’t!) and that it would, in turn, be willing to give them to terror groups to attack the U.S. That lie would become part of the basis for the invasion of that country the next year.


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Think of all this as the strangest kind of imperial desperation from a superpower that seemed to have it all. And the result, of course, after Osama bin Laden launched his air force and those 19 mostly Saudi hijackers against New York and Washington on Sept. 11, 2001, was the Global War on Terror, which would soon prove a self-imposed, self-created disaster. 

Or think of it another way, when considering the imperial fate of America and this planet: The crew who ran Washington (and the U.S. military) then proved — as would be true throughout the first two decades of the 21st century — incapable of learning even the most basic lessons history had to offer. After all, only a decade after the Soviet Union collapsed, thanks in significant part to what its leader called its “bleeding wound,” a disastrous war in Afghanistan in which the Red Army became endlessly mired, the Bush administration would launch its own disastrous war in Afghanistan in which it would become — yep, endlessly mired. It was as if this country, in its moment of triumph, couldn’t help but take the Soviet path into the future, the one heading for the exits.

Cold wars and hot wars

In November 2021, just three decades after the implosion of the Soviet Union, no one could imagine any longer that such a vision of victory and success-to-come caught the underlying realities of this country or this century. The arrival of Donald Trump in the White House five years earlier had been the most visible proof of that.

It’s hard to imagine today that he wasn’t the truest of all products of that very American Century, a genuine message from it to us and the rest of the world. He was, after all, the man who, in his key slogan in 2016 as this country’s first declinist candidate for president — “Make America Great Again” (MAGA) — suggested that it had been all over for a while when it came to this country being the first player in history. He had, in fact, been coughed up by an authoritarian system already in formation. He vaulted into office not just claiming that the American system was a fraud, but that it had lost its firstness and its greatness. In response to that message, so many Americans who felt that they, too, had lost their way, that they were, in fact, being crushed by history, voted for him. In a mere four years in the Oval Office, he would bring a true sense of enemy-ness home in a new and shattering way, creating a world in which the enemy was distinctly American and needed to be overthrown. 

The topsy-turvy nature of the Trumpian version of the American century is something this country — and certainly the Biden administration — still hasn’t fully come to grips with. For decades, we had indeed led the rest of the world and this is what we had led them into: the conspiracy theory of history (almost any conspiracy theory you want to mention), the “fraudulent” election now being eternally denounced by Donald Trump, the coup attempt of Jan. 6, a Republican Party that’s become the opposition from hell, a planet on which fossil-fuel companies (often American) knew decades ago just what was happening with the climate and invested their extra funds in making sure that other Americans didn’t, and… but why go on? If you don’t sense the depth and truth of this tale of the American Century, just ask Joe Manchin.

Its final decades seem to be a time when this country’s politicians can hardly agree on a thing, including how to keep Americans safe in a pandemic moment. Check out the New York Times COVID-19 “global hotspots” map and, in these last months, it’s looked like a replay of the Cold War, since the U.S. and Russia are the two largest “hotspots” of death and destruction on the planet, each colored a wild red. Think of it as a new kind of hot war. 

And little wonder at the confusion of it all. I mean, talk about a superpower that proved incapable of learning from history! In response to the slaughter of 3,000 Americans on 9/11 — and mind you, something like 3,000 Americans were being slaughtered every two days most of this year thanks, in part, to the murderous leadership of various Trumpian figures in this pandemic moment — the greatest power ever decided that the only response imaginable to 9/11 was to launch its own war in Afghanistan. Thank you, Soviet Union, for your example (not to speak of our own example in Vietnam back when)!  And yes, 20 years later, on a planet far more filled with Islamist terror groups than might have seemed even faintly imaginable on Sept. 11, 2001, failure is just another word for a “new cold war.” 

Oh, yes, in 2021, there is indeed another power rising on this planet, one it’s necessary to organize against with all due haste — or so the Biden administration and the U.S. military would like us to believe. And no, I’m not thinking about the power of a fast-heating climate, which threatens to take down anyone’s century. I’m thinking, of course, about China.

An upside-down version of 1991

As we head into the final two decades of the all-American era that Luce predicted, think about this: The American Century has been a disaster of the first order. In the wake of the implosion of the Soviet Union, the U.S. decided to remake the world and did so — at least in the sense of allowing climate change to run riot on Planet Earth — while, in the process, unmaking itself.    

So, 80 years after Henry Luce proclaimed its existence, welcome indeed to the American Century, or rather to the increasingly nightmarish planet it’s left us on. Welcome to an age of billionaires (that could even one day see its first trillionaire); to levels of desperate inequality that would once have been unimaginable here; to large-scale death due to a pandemic from hell mismanaged by men who were functionally murderers; and to a literally hellish future that, without the kind of war-style mobilization Joe Manchin among others is ensuring will never happen, will sooner rather than later envelop this country and the planet it meant to rule in a climate disaster.

Honestly, could the Chinese century — not that it’s likely, given how the world is trending — be worse? You don’t even have to leave this country and go to Afghanistan, Iraq, Somalia or Yemen to judge that question anymore.

And sadly, the one thing the triumphalists of 1991 agreed on — and American politicians have never changed their minds about, no matter the course of our wars — was funding the military-industrial complex in a way that they never would have funded either the bolstering of human health or the halting of climate change. That urge to dump taxpayer dollars into the American war machine, despite failure after failure in war after war, has never been stanched. It remains more or less the only thing congressional Democrats and Republicans can still agree on — that and the need for an enemy to endlessly prepare to fight. 

And now, of course, the imperial power that simply couldn’t exist without such enemies and has left Afghanistan and much of the rest of its War on Terror (despite the odd drone strike) largely in the lurch, is in the process of creating its newest enemy for a new age: China. Think of the new cold war that the Biden administration (like the Trump administration before it) has been promoting as 1991 turned upside down when it comes to enemy-ness. The ultimate moment of American triumph and then of despair both needed their distant enemies, an ever-more well financed military-industrial-congressional complex, and an ever more “modernized” nuclear arsenal.   

Oh, the hubris of it all. We were the country that would remake the world in our image. We would bring “liberation” and “democracy” to the Afghans and the Iraqis, among others, and glory to this land. In the end, of course, we brought them little but pain, displacement and death, while bringing American democracy itself, with all its failings, to the autocratic edge of hell in a world of “fraudulent” elections and coupsters galore

Now, it seems, we are truly living out the end of the American Century in the world it created. Who woulda thunk it? 

Copyright 2021 Tom Engelhardt

Follow TomDispatch on Twitter and join us on Facebook. Check out the newest Dispatch Books, John Feffer’s new dystopian novel, “Songlands” (the final one in his Splinterlands series), Beverly Gologorsky’s novel “Every Body Has a Story,” and Tom Engelhardt’s “A Nation Unmade by War,” as well as Alfred McCoy’s “In the Shadows of the American Century: The Rise and Decline of U.S. Global Power” and John Dower’s “The Violent American Century: War and Terror Since World War II.”

More from Salon on the drift toward a new Cold War:

Actually, “Eternals” isn’t the MCU’s first love story — “The Winter Soldier” is

Much has been made of “Eternals” being a “different” kind of Marvel movie, and in many ways, it is.

The Chloé Zhao-directed film follows ancient, supernatural beings who’ve defended Earth from creatures called Deviants for millennia and who reunite in the present day to save humanity from the latest catastrophe. Because of this long view of mankind’s development, “Eternals” has been touted as a “love letter to Earth and humanity,” as Angelina Jolie, who plays the Eternal Thena, has put it

But producer Nate Moore also calls it “the first movie that’s really built around a romance as the central relationship.” In the film, Richard Madden’s Ikaris and Gemma Chan’s Sersi, two of the most powerful of the 10 Eternals have a love story that spans thousands of years, which is certainly a focal point from start to finish.

This is not to say that other MCU films have lacked in some romantic content. Moore acknowledges the love stories of Tony Stark (Robert Downey Jr.) and Pepper Potts (Gwyneth Paltrow); Steve Rogers (Chris Evans) and Peggy Carter (Hayley Atwell), a relationship that Steve gave up everything for in the final moments of “Endgame”; and the unnecessary romantic subplot between Natasha Romanoff (Scarlett Johansson) and Bruce Banner (Mark Ruffalo). But Moore makes the case for why, unlike these other romances, Ikaris and Sersi’s love is the foundation of “Eternals,” making the movie arguably not just an action film, but a romance, supposedly for the first time ever in the MCU.

While this can’t be denied, it’s not the first love story-centric Marvel flick. Have we forgotten the entire “Captain America” trilogy, people? Or the whole plot of “Captain America: The Winter Soldier,” specifically? And, no, I’m not talking about Steve and Peggy, or even Steve and Natasha, though sparks may have flown between the two in “The Winter Soldier.” I’m talking about Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes (Sebastian Stan), the Winter Soldier himself.


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Ikaris x Sersi parallels Steve x Bucky, before it

Let’s rewind for a minute, here. The year is 2011. “Captain America: The First Avenger” has just hit theaters, and we watch as Steve Rogers rescues his childhood best friend Bucky Barnes from Nazi captivity, followed by a glorious montage of the two supposedly platonic besties going Nazi-hunting in the 1940s at the height of World War II. All of this is cut short when Bucky appears to fall off the top of a train to his death on a mission, devastating Steve. By the end of “The First Avenger,” both Steve and Bucky are presumed to be dead, as Steve sacrifices his life to save humanity from the overwhelming power of the Tesseract. Of course, in the final moments of the movie, we learn Steve survived and is discovered frozen in ice 70 years later, in the present day.

But Steve isn’t the only one who survived, and he certainly isn’t the only biologically enhanced super soldier. As 2014’s “Captain America: The Winter Soldier” — widely lauded as one of the all-time greatest Marvel movies — reveals, Bucky is alive too, recovered by the Nazi scientists of Hydra who made him into a super soldier and preserved him over the past 70 years through freezing him in cryogenic sleep. Steve and Bucky’s lives are inextricably bound, forever intertwined through what can only be described as fate. Decades, lifetimes, wars, Nazis, mind control — nothing can separate the two. 

RELATED: Marvel finally adds a gay title hero in “Eternals,” only to have film banned in some countries

In many ways, Steve and Bucky’s relationship directly parallels Ikaris and Sersi’s, and “The Winter Soldier” came out nearly a decade before “Eternals.” Just as Ikaris and Sersi are bonded by their immortality, their love spanning thousands of years, Steve and Bucky are also bonded by their uniquely long life spans, owing to being frozen for decades in the Arctic Ocean for Steve, and being frozen in cryogenic sleep by Nazi scientists for Bucky. 

In these two relationships, we see both couples at different points divided by opposing missions. For Ikaris and Sersi, this manifests in the final act of “Eternals,” when it’s revealed that Ikaris will do anything to carry out the Eternals’ mission, meaning sacrificing Earth to allow for the birth of a new Celestial (aka a giant, ultra-powerful, intergalactic being). Sersi, on the other hand, is determined to stop the so-called convergence and protect Earth and humanity at any cost. 

As for Steve and Bucky, much of “The Winter Soldier” follows Bucky hunting down his former best friend while under mind control by Hydra, which survived World War II by secretly merging into SHIELD, the agency that governs the Avengers. Throughout most of the movie, Bucky’s face is masked until the two nearly fight to the death, causing the mask to fall and reveal Bucky’s identity. Steve then realizes that the Winter Soldier — the mysterious Hydra assassin who’s killed untold numbers of innocent people, and appears to have killed Nick Fury (Samuel L. Jackson) earlier in “The Winter Soldier” — is his childhood best friend.

One particular memory of Bucky stands out to Steve, after this revelation: the day of his parents’ funeral in the 1940s. When Steve repeatedly rejected Bucky’s offers for help all those years ago, Bucky leaned in close to tell him, “I’m with you ’til the end of the line, pal.” In the final minutes of “The Winter Soldier,” Steve repeats these words to Bucky just before Bucky nearly kills him while under mind control by Hydra. The words — and the enduring love between the two — are enough to liberate Bucky from decades of mind control and brainwashing. He frees Steve and is simultaneously freed too, beginning to regain a sense of self through Steve’s words for the first time in nearly 70 years. The two fall from an exploding helicarrier into the Potomac, and Bucky saves an unconscious Steve’s life before fleeing the scene.

Steve and Bucky’s unconditional love contrasts with the limits of Ikaris and Sersi’s relationship

This is perhaps where “Steve x Bucky” and “Ikaris x Sersi” differ most: Steve and Bucky’s bond is unbreakable, while Ikaris and Sersi’s has conditions. Where Ikaris’ great “sacrifice” for Sersi at the end of “Eternals” is sparing her life, Steve and Bucky have both repeatedly proven their willingness to die for each other, to buck any and all of their duties and allegiances for each other, as the aforementioned, final moments of “The Winter Soldier” show. True to their own words to each other, Steve and Bucky are together “’til the end of the line.” Meanwhile, in “Eternals,” we’re supposed to see it as a romantic gesture that Ikaris opts to not kill Sersi with his lethal laser beams and flies into the sun instead. How . . . romantic?

Also, it’s revealed early in “Eternals” that Ikaris and Sersi broke up after he essentially ghosted her, vanishing from her life for hundreds of years. We learn that this is because Ikaris had to keep the secret of the Eternals’ true mission and purpose, shared with him by the Eternals’ leader, Ajak (Salma Hayek). Eventually, Sersi gave up on looking for Ikaris, and wound up falling in love with Kit Harington’s Dane Whitman as her hunky rebound.

This is all fair enough — being ghosted is as valid a reason as any to move on from someone, start seeing someone else, and stop waiting around or looking for your ex. But not for Steve and Bucky. 

RELATED: Captain America’s freedom fail: How the powerful few justify answering only to themselves

Between “Captain America: The Winter Soldier” and “Captain America: Civil War,” Steve and his new pal Sam Wilson (Anthony Mackie) have spent the past two years relentlessly searching for Bucky, never giving up despite Bucky’s elusiveness. When they find him in “Civil War,” Steve winds up not just risking his life, but willingly becoming an international fugitive and disbanding the Avengers, all to protect Bucky from being apprehended by international authorities. In “Civil War,” Bucky is on the run after being framed for the assassination of King T’Chaka of Wakanda, and Steve is willing to stake everything on believing in his beloved “friend.”

Steve arguably even gives up his identity as Captain America to save Bucky. After Iron Man learns that Bucky, under mind control by Hydra, killed his parents in the 1990s, Tony almost kills Bucky out of rage. Instead, Steve intervenes and saves Bucky’s life, almost killing Tony in the process. It’s in this moment that Tony reminds Steve that his signature Captain America shield was made by Howard Stark — Tony’s father — and belongs to the government. Steve responds by dropping the shield and allowing a limping Bucky to lean on him, as the two flee and Steve metaphorically leaves his old self behind. It isn’t until nearly seven years later in “Avengers: Endgame” that Steve and Tony mend their relationship, and Tony returns the shield to him. 

True love isn’t always “canon”

Sure, Ikaris and Sersi’s romance is canon, or real, within the MCU, while Steve and Bucky’s love is ultimately portrayed as a platonic friendship in the movies. But by all means, what legions upon legions of devoted MCU fans refer to as “SteveBucky” is real to its ‘shippers, or supporters.

Fanfiction.net, Wattpad, Tumblr and other popular fan platforms are brimming with “SteveBucky” fan art and fan fiction, some of which is arguably better written and more logical than actual MCU plotlines — certainly more logical than Steve bailing on his closest friends and all of humanity to travel back in time and be with a woman he kissed once 80 years ago in “Endgame.” 

Sure, unlike Ikaris and Sersi, Steve and Bucky don’t get an (onscreen) sex scene. But Steve and Bucky’s intimacy was arguably portrayed in even more passionate and intense ways than the two seconds of joyless missionary that Ikaris and Sersi share in “Eternals.” Much of “The Winter Soldier” features endless montages of Steve and Bucky just going at it, throwing each other against walls and choking each other, all while sweating, writhing, and trying to catch their breaths. Yes, “Eternals” is the first ever MCU film to feature an openly, canonically gay superhero, but “The Winter Soldier” was two hours and 16 minutes of pure, undeniable homoerotic tension. 

In any case, one of the best parts of the Steve and Bucky ‘ship has been the actors’ support for it. For years, the two have romantically posed with fans at nearly every Comic Con, and their off-screen bromance and love for the fans who ship their characters has been a source of joy for so many in the fandom.

RELATED: Dean Cain’s critiques of a queer Superman reveal someone hasn’t done the reading

More recently, following Evans’ departure from the MCU, Stan has continued to play Bucky in the Disney+ show, “The Falcon and the Winter Soldier,” in which Bucky befriends and embarks on adventures with Sam Wilson, the next Captain America. Consequently, fans who once shipped Steve and Bucky have gone on to ship Sam and Bucky, seeing Sam as an extension of Steve’s spirit, and upholding the immortal love between Captain America and the Winter Soldier. 

Where Mackie has made some questionable statements about the same-sex romantic shipping of Sam and Bucky, Stan’s response perfectly encapsulates the beauty of fictional shipping: “I’m just happy that the relationship is embraced, and it should be embraced in whatever way or fashion that people desire and want it to be,” he told Variety earlier this year. 

Stan is right — fictional love and relationships are what we make of them. The measure of a fictional romance isn’t whether it was “real” onscreen, but whether it resonates with and brings joy and excitement to fans. To that end, no matter what anyone says, Steve x Bucky was the first great MCU romance, and “Captain America: The Winter Soldier,” the first MCU love story.

“Eternals” is now playing in theaters.

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Ted Cruz launches his own “Sesame Street” — featuring MTG — in this week’s “SNL” cold open

Texas Republican Sen. Cruz launched his own version of Sesame Street on the “Newsmax Kids” network, in SNL’s Cold Open on Saturday.

“I’m Texas Senator — and the last one invited to Thanksgiving — Ted Cruz,” Cruz, played by cast member Aidy Bryant, says at the start of the skit. “For 50 years, I stood by as Sesame Street taught our children dangerous ideas like numbers and kindness, but when Big Bird told children to get vaccinated against a deadly disease, I said enough and I created my own Sesame Street called Cruz Street. It’s a gated community where kids are safe from the woke government.”

The skit features an appearance by Republican Congresswoman Marjorie Taylor Greene, toting an AR-15 and spouting QAnon conspiracy theories. Big Bird himself also shows up, experiencing negative side effects from the COVID-19 vaccine. But “resident medical expert” Joe Rogan comes along to provide Big Bird with zinc and ivermectin.


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The letters of the day on Cruz Street are “CRT” — which stand for either “critical race theory” or “caucasian rights trampled,” Cruz says.

Later, he introduces “the Proud Boys” — Bert and Ernie — mistaking the gay couple for members of the right-wing militia.

There’s also Oscar the Slouch, whom Cruz says has been trained by the Democrats to “suck off the teet of the government,” and “the recount Count,” who will explain how Donald Trump really won the election.

Watch it below:

The Gilded Age Bone Wars have their echoes in today’s vaccine patent waiver fight

One of the most obvious ways to hamstring the pandemic would be to distribute the COVID-19 vaccine globally, to every country in the world. Such a thing is certainly in the best interest of humanity at large for economic, humanitarian and self-preservation reasons. Yet the COVID-19 vaccines remain scarce in the poorest countries in the world; moreover, due to their proprietary nature, they cannot even be produced in many countries which often have the material capacity to do so.

This situation — the withholding of vaccines (both vaccines themselves and the intellectual property rights associated with them) and the widespread assumption that countries will be solely responsible for vaccinating their own populations — has been called “vaccine nationalism“. And curiously, this isn’t the first time in history that suffusing nationalism and the concept of property into science caused irreversible harm.

During the Gilded Age, ultra-rich robber barons like J.P. Morgan, John D. Rockefeller, George Peabody, and Andrew Carnegie, took an interest in philanthropic investments in the sciences. Much of their efforts were directed toward paleontology, especially the study of large charismatic dinosaurs and their relatives. Part of the draw of paleontology was convenience: dinosaur fossils and ore and oil were often found using similar techniques and in similar places.

It was not long before dinosaur fossils were symbols of national strength and economic power. (The nationalist current in paleontology may have been revived somewhat recently with the discovery of many evolutionarily interesting dinosaur fossils closely related to birds in China, which have turned it into the “epicenter of paleontology.”) Indeed, the connections between paleontology, capitalism, and nationalism during the Gilded Age were explained most cogently in Lukas Rieppel’s recent book Assembling the Dinosaur. And the competitive milieu of the Gilded Age was also on full display among the paleontologists themselves.

This culminated in a period of intense of fossil hunting and discovery from the 1870s to the 1890s known as the Bone Wars. The most marked dispute during this time was between Othniel Marsh, the first professor of paleontology in the United States (and, at times, vertebrate paleontologist for the US Geological Survey and president of the National Academy of Sciences) and Edward Cope, a man with little formal training in paleontology who was enabled by his family’s great means. Both men started with vast resources: Marsh not only had his significant institutional connections but also had his research funded with a large inheritance from his uncle, George Peabody (among his other titles, Marsh was curator of the Peabody Museum of Natural Sciences at Yale); while Cope came from a well-off family and received much support from his father, Quaker philanthropist Alfred Cope.

These men engaged in intense competition for excavation sites. It was not only that they were scrambling for sites to discover new fossils — they were actively sabotaging each other’s work. Marsh would plant fossils from other locations to confuse Cope. Marsh would also bribe owners of quarries to send him specimens from where Cope was fossil hunting before Cope got a chance to describe them. Often these men would finish excavating their sites only to use dynamite to destroy any remaining fossils lest the other man discover something that they missed. The competition was so fierce that Cope even purchased a fifty percent stake in a top scientific journal, The American Naturalist, to ensure that his work had a consistent outlet and flooded it with seventy-five of his own papers on fossil discoveries.

By the numbers, this resulted in the most intensely productive era of dinosaur fossil discoveries until this point, including Marsh’s description of now well-known dinosaurs such as Apatosaurus, Stegosaurus, and Allosaurus at Como Bluff, Wyoming. When all was said and done, Marsh had “won” the Bone Wars in the sense that he had described eighty species of dinosaurs versus Cope’s fifty-six; though this was largely due to the funding and staff Marsh had through his institutional connections. Marsh and Cope both argued that birds are the descendants of dinosaurs (an idea pushed earlier by Thomas Henry Huxley after the discovery of a nearly complete skeleton of Archaeopteryx, a birdlike dinosaur, by Richard Owen), which was informed by their work on these fossils and has been repeatedly validated and is to this day near-universally accepted by the paleontological community.

Despite high productivity in terms of the volume of fossils recovered and the number of species described, the intense competition and mutual sabotage between the two men is thought to have caused great damage to the field of paleontology, some of it irreversible. The legacy of this time was so damaging that the reputation of paleontology could only begin to recover when the emphasis in paleontology began to shift from fossil collection to patterns of evolution with the work of George Gaylord Simpson in the 1940s. Paleontology was subordinated to other fields related to evolution—it was excluded from John Maynard Smith’s metaphorical “high table” of evolutionary biology until, arguably, the quantitative, theory-driven work of paleontologists like David Raup and Stephen Jay Gould in the 1970s and 1980s.

Their careless methods caused long-lasting damage in several more tangible ways. Their hastily-performed, poor reconstructions created misconceptions about dinosaurs which may have been compounded by the posturing of paleontology’s benefactors, who liked to play up the ferocious aspects of dinosaur fossils to project strength on the international stage (for example, giving some dinosaurs a more erect posture and faster stride). These misconceptions persisted for decades even within the paleontology community and often still persist in the general public. Furthermore, the superficially high productivity of the two men caused the exodus of some doing more methodical work such as Joseph Leidy, discoverer of the first nearly complete dinosaur skeleton, who could not keep up with the volume of fossils described by the other men. Their destruction of fossils that could have otherwise been discovered later, which was driven by their sense of property over excavation sites, caused irreversible harm. There may be species of dinosaurs that will never be discovered by humanity because of the competition between these two men and the ownership over these sites which they felt entitled to.

If these men had decided to work together in a collaborative fashion with proper attribution of work (which is, fortunately, closer to the norm in sciences today) and less of a sense of property over their excavation sites, they may have discovered more fossils and made inferences and reconstructions that would have better stood the test of time. Their individualistic sense of competition and property may have set the field of paleontology back decades.

* * *

We are now in a new Gilded Age, and this new Gilded Age has a new Bones Wars—only this time, the bones are our own. Like the first one, this new era has ultra-rich philanthropists like Bill Gates, Jeff Bezos, MacKenzie Scott, Michael Bloomberg, and Charles Schwab, who direct their philanthropic efforts towards the sciences. The particular scientific interests of these philanthropists, like public health, biotechnology, and climate change, however, have a much more direct material impact on our lives.

Much like the past, the terrain of the modern ultra-rich’s philanthropy often conveniently aligns with their own financial interests. For example, Bill Gates has played a key role in steering the global vaccine effort toward redirecting a pittance of vaccines toward low-income countries as a part of the World Health Organization’s severely underperforming public-private COVAX initiative, rather than suspending vaccine patents to facilitate these countries’ ability to produce their own vaccines. The Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation even urged Oxford University, who housed the team that developed a COVID-19 vaccine, to break their pledge to grant their vaccine’s rights to any manufacturer through open source licensing and instead partner with AstraZeneca and grant them sole rights to the vaccine.

As Microsoft’s co-founder, Bill Gates’s power and influence was built on the fidelity and enforcement of intellectual property law, such as the World Trade Organization’s TRIPS agreement. These kinds of laws — which allowed Gates to enforce software licensing agreements and thus use Microsoft’s software development to build his massive wealth and establish The Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation — also facilitate vaccine patents.

The coalition of corporate executives, politicians, and philanthropists who are in charge of vaccine distribution are simply not meeting the moment. The problem of vaccine distribution cannot be addressed adequately in the modern environment where proprietorship is so prominent. Under the current proprietary-vaccine framework, most of the world is not vaccinated; many countries, including most African countries, have percent-vaccinated numbers in the single digits.

Hence, the poorest countries are bearing the largest burden of vaccine nationalism. Worse, poorer countries often pay more per dose than richer countries. Much like the Bone Wars of the past in which excavation sites were destroyed so others could not use them, millions of vaccines are routinely destroyed under the current proprietary-vaccine framework while billions remain unvaccinated.


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We should completely reconsider the concept of private property; but, for now, global leadership can and should waive COVID-19 vaccine patents. Most of the world is in favor of vaccine patent waivers, but rich countries are either against it or spinning their wheels on the issue. Due to intellectual property claims on existing vaccines, factories all over the world that could be retrofitted to manufacture vaccines are not doing so.

In addition to the bottleneck on distribution that this is causing globally, the proprietary nature of these vaccines could also be hindering ongoing research, which is more important as the virus continues to evolve, resulting in new variants. Despite the enforcement of these patents and the ongoing embargo by the United States, Cuba has been able to develop a highly effective vaccine for COVID-19. If, for example, other countries could more easily access and use research on mRNA vaccine technology to build on it, we may be better positioned to develop new vaccines to keep up with the evolving virus—as evidenced by what other countries like Cuba have been able to do without access to this research.

This, the ever-evolving SARS-CoV-2 virus, needs to be a key consideration when thinking about the detrimental impact of the proprietary nature of COVID-19 vaccines. Allowing the virus to spread unabated sets the stage for the evolution of new variants by both increasing the number of replications, which provides more chances for the virus to mutate and thus create new variants, and increasing the population size of the virus, which allows for more effective selection for fitter variants. Indeed, these factors may have already resulted in the predominance of a more dangerous virus—the highly infectious delta variant was discovered in India prior to their more recent widespread vaccination initiatives (and the vast majority is still unvaccinated there).

For this reason, we need to prioritize a more global distribution of COVID-19 vaccines, one that can be better facilitated by patent waivers—as new variants are likely to arise from immunosuppressed people from anywhere in the world and vaccines administered in currently under-vaccinated countries will mitigate this risk. For this reason, it is even to the benefit of the most self-interested nations that the whole world is as vaccinated as possible.

The difference between the Bone Wars of the past and the new Bone Wars of vaccine propriety is that millions of people will get sick and die preventable deaths due to the lack of vaccine distribution equity. Short of non-pharmaceutical interventions such as strict shutdowns, quarantines, and enforcement of distancing (indeed, complete elimination of SARS-CoV-2 will be almost impossible without these interventions), the vaccines are among the most effective potential means for mitigating the harm caused by the pandemic and stymying the evolution of more harmful variants. It was unfortunate that paleontology was set back by nationalism and the proprietary tendencies of capitalism, but now, the stakes are much higher—these same ideologies are now killing millions of people worldwide through the way they are shaping our response to the pandemic. We need to approach this pandemic from a new international, non-proprietary framework. The dinosaurs are already dead—we aren’t dead, yet.

After years of delays, Southern California’s new smog regulation promises to save lives

Across the globe, the amount of pollution you breathe is highly dependent on where you live. This is apparent in Southern California, where the combination of dust, sulfur oxides, and nitrogen oxides known as smog has been on the rise over the last two decades. Between 2010 and 2017, Southern California experienced a 10 percent increase in deaths related to smog, hitting communities of color across the Southern Los Angeles and Inland Empire regions the hardest. 

On Friday, however, as world leaders gathered in Glasgow, Scotland, to discuss efforts to curtail climate change, a 13-member regulatory board in Southern California approved a major new rule, known as Refinery Rule 1109.1, that could dramatically clean the region’s air. 

Decades in the making, the regulations will require 16 facilities, including 12 oil refineries located in Los Angeles, San Bernardino, and Orange Counties, to install pollution controls on outdated equipment, most notably heater and boiler systems, by 2031. The rule was under consideration because the air district had failed to meet federal smog standards, and also because the state’s environmental justice law, AB 617, targeted cleaning up the air in industry-adjacent communities across the state. 

Passed in 2017, AB 617 directs local air districts to speed up refinery retrofits to cut pollution and also work with community members to develop emission reduction plans. Local air quality regulators faced pressure to pass the refinery rule under both provisions of AB 617. The rule comported with the law’s mandate to hasten refinery upgrades, and communities included the passage of the rule as a priority in their emissions reduction plan.

The new pollution control equipment will reduce harmful air pollutants — particularly nitrogen oxides, or NOx — by as much as 8 tons every day. The South Coast Air Quality Management District passed the rule unanimously after two hours of public comment and deliberation on Friday morning. 

“This is a critical ruling and moment,” said Julia May, a senior scientist at the environmental justice group Communities for a Better Environment. “You can’t completely clean these industries up — they’re inherently dirty — but in the meantime of a transition away from them, this is part of what we can do to require them to not put out these health-harming pollutants into communities.”

While smog levels across the world have been on the decline since the 1970s, last year Los Angeles experienced its worst smog levels in nearly 30 years. Air pollution, including that from smog, damages the lungs and can trigger asthma attacks, heart attacks, and strokes. In Southern California, more people die from air pollution than traffic deaths and crime-related deaths combined. Friday’s ruling, which requires roughly 300 pieces of equipment including heaters, boilers, gas turbines, and flares — some more than 50 years old — to be upgraded or modified, is  projected to help prevent nearly 400 premature deaths and more than 6,000 asthma attacks in the region over the next 15 years. 

It’s bound to have a tremendous impact on the roughly 110,000 residents of Carson and Wilmington, two communities that constitute the “fossil fuels capital” of the Western United States. The communities host six of the 16 facilities impacted by the new rule, including five major oil refineries and an asphalt plant.

In total, the air district estimates that the rule’s public health benefits are worth $3.49 billion over the next 15 years, due to fewer residents requiring hospitalization and missing work due to sickness. The board also estimates that the rule will prevent 21,400 missed work days due to sickness, and that it will also lead to the creation of more than 1,800 jobs related to construction and monitoring every year for the next 12 years. 

According to May, these benefits exemplify how the U.S. can transition away from a dependence on dirty energy. “We can do this in a reasonable way,” she said. “While we do a just transition away from fossil fuels we can, and have to, protect the workers and create new jobs while we phase in clean energy.” 

Before Friday, the rule sat in limbo since at least 2015 due to heavy opposition from affected companies like Chevron, Tesoro, Marathon, and Phillips 66 — and even internal struggles within the air board. In 2015, the air board originally moved to implement a new smog regulation, but it was rejected by a few board members, including Los Angeles City councilmember Joe Buscaino, in favor of a weaker plan put forth by the oil industry. The dissenting members claimed more time was needed to implement the rule, which ultimately ended up becoming rule 1109.1. 

Buscaino, who voted in favor of 1109.1 this time around, said on Friday that his decision-making process “recognized the fact that refineries have employed [his] friends and family — good union-paying jobs.” Buscaino’s district includes Wilmington and the Port of Los Angeles. 

Over the last six years, industry leaders claimed it was a burdensome task to install new equipment. The air district estimates it will cost the 16 facilities around $2 billion in total to comply — much less than the estimated $3.5 billion worth of public health benefits.

Byron Chan, a Southern California attorney with the environmental law firm EarthJustice, told Grist that the sticker price of compliance reflects historic inaction on the part of industry. “They’ve barely done anything for the past 30 years,” he said. “It’s like if you never went to the dentist, and the first time you went to the dentist you were 55 and racked up a super expensive charge — but if you had been going to the dentist every six months for your entire life, you wouldn’t have had to be put in this situation in the first place.”*

Representatives from Phillips 66, an operator of two major refineries in Los Angeles County, declined to respond to Grist’s request for comment, while Marathon Refinery did not respond at all to Grist’s request before publication. According to an analysis by Communities for a Better Environment, the Marathon Refineries and Phillips 66 refineries located in Carson and Wilmington are among the facilities that will be most impacted by rule 1109.1. In 2016, Marathon reported releasing 1.6 million pounds of NOx, and Phillips 66 reported releasing 1.4 million pounds of NOx. 

Many local polluters originally favored a pollution regulation that had been in use since 1993. The Regional Clean Air Incentive Market, or RECLAIM, program mimicked a cap and trade procedure, allowing refineries to pay to pollute. Instead of directly ordering every polluter to install specific clean-air technology, the program allowed facilities to purchase credits from other, cleaner facilities, which in turn allowed them to exceed their permitted emissions. Within a few years of its initial implementation, it became cheaper to pay for excess pollution than to lower emissions by installing new equipment. In the end, air pollution and smog across the Southern California basin ended up increasing with the implementation of RECLAIM

The new rule replaces the RECLAIM program, but some advocates contend that the air district still favored industry over communities. “Refineries know that if they push even a little bit, that the air district will likely make room for whatever they’re arguing,” Chan said. “Where, on the other hand, communities are never given the benefit of the doubt.”

During the most recent drafting process for the new rule, a Grist analysis of meeting recordings found that the air district met with refinery ownership groups and oil lobbyists nearly five times more often than they met with environmental groups. (The air district did not respond to Grist’s request for comment in time for publication.)

Utilizing emails released through the California Public Records Act, Grist was able to confirm that representatives from Southern California refineries — specifically the Phillips 66 plants located in Carson and Wilmington — were in constant contact with the air board during the drafting of the regulations over the past year. In one email thread, a representative from the air district adopted an informal and light-hearted tone with Phillip 66’s lead environmental scientist as they talked about potential substitute compliance plans that would allow the refinery more wiggle room to lower its emissions. 

The substitute plans discussed in those emails, known as “I-Plan,” “B-Cap,” and “B-Plan,” were ultimately included in the passage of refinery rule 1109.1. The “B-Cap” plan institutes a “mass emission cap” that will allow refineries to trade emissions within their respective facilities, rather than just directly meeting the standards for specific pieces of pollution equipment. In other words, if a refinery’s flaring emissions are lower than the proposed standards, they can use that reduction to excuse their excess emissions from, for example, a boiler or heater system.

In the end, however, the rule has met acclaim from both community groups and legislators as a step in the right direction. It offers tangible benefits and strong reduction goals on the heels of another major oil regulation that was just passed in the region: Last month, California environmental justice groups rejoiced after Governor Gavin Newsom announced a new ruling that would ban the permitting of oil and gas wells within 3,200 feet of community sites such as homes, schools, and hospitals. The new rule came after years of advocacy and a recent Grist analysis showing the troubling prevalence of oil wells — and the pollution they generate — in California’s Black, Latino, and low-income communities, particularly across the Southern California Basin. 

“It’s a tragedy that these wins didn’t happen before,” May said. “But they’re big wins, and now we’ll be fighting for strong implementation.” 

*Editor’s note: Earthjustice is an advertiser with Grist. Advertisers have no role in Grist’s editorial decisions.

Naveena Sadasivam contributed reporting to this story.

Months after its Netflix debut, “Squid Game” continues to encourage U.S. viewers to learn Korean

Shortly after its international debut, Netflix’s hit series “Squid Game” spurred a newfound craze over honeycomb toffee and had viewers asking, “How much is 45.6 billion won?”

The show — which follows a group of indebted contestants who play a series of violent and deadly childhood games for an extravagant cash prize — also became the first non-English title to amass more than 100 million global viewers during its opening weeks. 

Now — over a month later — the nine-episode survival drama is driving an enduring Korean language learning trend across the United States.

Language learning app Duolingo Inc. initially reported a 40% increase in beginner Korean language learners just 10 days after the show’s premiere on Sept.17. That percentage experienced a 10% hike during the past two weeks, raising the total to a whopping 50%.  

RELATED: The allure of Netflix’s  brutal “Squid Game” owes a debt to our predatory upbringing

“That’s for our new learners, so people who are coming to Duolingo for the first time and creating a new account with us in order to learn Korean,” explained Cindy Blanco, Duolingo’s senior learning scientist, in an interview with Salon.  

The app also reported new growth amongst their existing learners, individuals who are already enrolled in one or more of the app’s courses. Approximately 32% of these learners are now adding Korean lessons to their class itinerary.

“More current learners are trying out Korean now compared to last year,” Blanco said. “And we think that’s absolutely a specific link to ‘Squid Game’; it’s really becoming a phenomenon in pop culture.”

Language learning spikes, overall, are a common spectacle at Duolingo. Global interest in specific languages is heavily influenced by major international sporting, pop culture and social events, according to Blanco. In 2014, the app noted an increase in new Portuguese learners after the FIFA World Cup in Brazil garnered widespread attention. An overall rise in new language learners was also witnessed during the onset of the pandemic, when people worldwide were relegated to the confines of their own homes. And in May of this year, Duolingo took to Twitter to share the 56% surge in Italian language learners following Måneskin’s Eurovision victory.

What sets apart this “Squid Game”-fueled language spike from ones in the past is its singularity — many Duolingo students are learning Korean solely because of the show, according to Blanco. When asked why they chose to enroll in Korean classes, over 17% of learners cited “culture” as their main motivator.

“The media scene is certainly a part of culture,” Blanco said. “Language learning is [a] way to learn more about the media that they’re consuming . . . I think that’s a testimony to the power of pop culture and media.”

For 21 consecutive days, “Squid Game” maintained its No. 1 position on Netflix’s platform before being overtaken by “You.” Now, two months later, it’s still in the Top 10 as the sixth most-watched title in the U.S. 

The show’s influence and acclaim — along with the successes of other popular Korean language dramas such as “My Name” and “Hometown Cha-Cha-Cha” —  underscores the continuing fascination with South Korean culture, fashion, food and music. Known as the “Korean Wave” — or hallyu — this phenomenon, which first rose to prominence in the 1990s, has established Korea’s bustling entertainment industry and heightened the country as a soft power amongst Western nations.


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“[Korea] is like the new France because France managed to successfully export its culture,” explained cultural historian and writer Dr. Paula Lee in an interview with Salon. “The difference though is that France — at least in the age of the Enlightenment — was the center of power in the world. Korea has never had that status politically. So, it’s a little bit more unusual that there are people who are interested in Korean culture simply on the basis of the strength of its cultural product.”   

A growing interest in the Korean language — specifically within the U.S — stemmed from the universal popularity of K-pop and K-dramas. Soon, colleges and universities began introducing more undergraduate and graduate Korean language courses.   

“Between fall 2013 and fall 2016, enrollments in languages other than English fell 9.2% in colleges and universities in the United States; of the fifteen most commonly taught languages, only Japanese and Korean showed gains in enrollment,” states a 2018 report published by the Modern Language Association (MLA).

“There’s been a market closing of language departments — French, German, Latin — they’re all going away,” Lee added. “By contrast, Korean programs are over-enrolled.”   

In terms of ranking, Korean surpassed Ancient Greek, Biblical Hebrew, and Portuguese to take the position as the 11th most studied language in 2016. MLA data collected during the fall semester of university admissions states that from 2006 to 2009, higher learning institutions saw an 18.2% increase in Korean language enrollments. The percentage increased to 45.1% between the years of 2009 and 2013. And from 2013 to 2016, institutions recorded a 13.7% increase.  

Data for the 2021 report is currently in the works. It is slated to be released in spring 2023, according to the MLA’s official website.    

Duolingo’s “Squid Game”-driven language growth also comes in the wake of the ongoing debate over the show’s subtitles. After the show’s inception, viewers quickly took to social media to share the discrepancies between the English subtitles and the Korean dialogue.  

“Especially for younger learners, language learning is the next step,” Blanco said. “It’s a way for them to kind of continue their interests and [try] to solve and understand what’s happening. People are really curious, they’re curious about things that they really care about.”

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The Revolution of 2020: How Trump’s Big Lie reshaped history after 220 years

There are few words as overused as “revolution,” which has many Merriam-Webster definitions and here means “a fundamental change in political organization.” While people who discuss politics are prone to dramatic talk of “revolutions,” few of the American presidential elections described that way really merit the term. Franklin D. Roosevelt’s “revolution” of 1932 changed the nature and role of government in American life, and Ronald Reagan’s election in 1980 undid at least some of those changes. But neither election literally altered how our democracy functions. 

Those disqualifying details do not apply to the most recent election — the first one ever in which a losing president refused to admit defeat. It’s reasonable to describe that as the Revolution of 2020.

There have been two previous elections that could be defined as revolutionary. The more recent was in 1860, which both revealed and reflected a profound rift in the American polity and led directly to the Civil War. Eleven Southern states decided to secede after the Republican victory because they feared Abraham Lincoln’s presidency spelled doom for the economic system based on chattel slavery. This story is relevant to the Donald Trump era, but the earlier revolutionary election is our main topic here — and that one is actually known as the Revolution of 1800. As things turned out, it was the rarest kind of revolution: One with a happy ending.

RELATED: Untwist your knickers, Trump fans: History says the 2020 election was nothing special

George Washington had served two terms as America’s first president, but without facing meaningful opposition or anything resembling a modern election campaign. After he decided not to seek a third term, the 1796 election became the first to feature serious competition between the nation’s brand new political parties. Federalist candidate John Adams, who had been Washington’s vice president, ultimately prevailed over Thomas Jefferson, former Secretary of State and candidate of the Democratic-Republican Party. But in the momentous election of 1800, Jefferson won the rematch, and Adams — the first incumbent president to be defeated — faced a historic decision: Would he come up with some excuse to cling to power, or simply hand the reins of state to Jefferson and walk away? 

If Adams had cried fraud or otherwise claimed the election was illegitimate, he could almost certainly have stayed in office despite electoral defeat. In fact, he wouldn’t really have needed much of an excuse. There was almost no precedent for national leaders voluntarily stepping down in the face of popular rebuke, and plenty of examples — from ancient to modern times — that pulled any aspiring dictator in the opposite direction. But Adams was invested in democracy’s success, and as such swallowed both his pride and his genuine concerns about Jefferson’s political philosophy. He followed the law and surrendered power, and in the process, demonstrated how important the conduct of losing candidates is to democracy. (Like Trump, Adams skipped his successor’s inauguration, but he never tried to delegitimize his erstwhile rival’s presidency.)

Nearly two decades later, it was Jefferson himself who described Adams’ actions as the “Revolution of 1800,” comparing it to the better-known revolution that had begun 24 years earlier:

… that was as real a revolution in the principles of our government as that of 76. was in it’s form; not effected indeed by the sword, as that, but by the rational and peaceable instrument of reform, the suffrage of the people. the nation declared it’s will by dismissing functionaries of one principle, and electing those of another, in the two branches, executive and legislative, submitted to their election…

The ideals of self-government captured in the Declaration of Independence, Jefferson was suggesting, did not become reality until American democracy passed its acid test: The person entrusted with the most powerful office in the land accepted a painful verdict. It had been difficult enough for Washington to leave the presidency, even though he was eager to live out his last years as a civilian. For Adams, it was even worse: He badly wanted to continue as president, and on some level expected to win re-election. In accepting defeat, he proved that democratic government wasn’t just an ideal. It was also workable.


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Adams’ precedent was followed without question for the next 220 years, with 10 incumbent presidents leaving office voluntarily after the voters kicked them out. Most were bitterly disappointed by defeat, it’s fair to say, but none of Adams’ spurned successors — from his own son in 1828 to George H.W. Bush in 1992 — tried to concoct conspiracy theories in order to claim they hadn’t really lost. Then came the Revolution of 2020, when the guy who became famous for telling people “You’re fired!” on a reality show refused to accept being canned. That catalyst broke the precedent set in the Revolution of 1800 by America’s first fired president.

Students of history like me, who spent a lifetime before the 2020 election immersed in the story of American politics, instantly recognized the magnitude of what Trump was doing — and understood that he represented a tendency George Washington himself had warned the young nation about. Washington directly identified the fundamental ingredients that made Trump’s coup attempt, starting with a political party so fanatically determined to win that its motivated reasoning could overpower common sense and basic decency. Once the Republicans filled that role, they just needed a demagogue who was sufficiently unscrupulous to exploit that. (Politics is full of egotists, so it says something that Trump was the first politician narcissistic enough to qualify.)

After pointing out that “the very idea of the power and the right of the people to establish government presupposes the duty of every individual to obey the established government,” Washington expresses concern that divisive political sentiments — particularly party zealotry — were “destructive of this fundamental principle, and of fatal tendency.” In elaborating on this, Washington almost seemed to be looking into the future with a crystal ball. He could hardly have described the hyper-partisanship of our time more precisely if he had actually known about Donald Trump, with all his odious followers and ludicrous assertions. Political parties, Washington writes,

… serve to organize faction, to give it an artificial and extraordinary force; to put, in the place of the delegated will of the nation the will of a party, often a small but artful and enterprising minority of the community; and, according to the alternate triumphs of different parties, to make the public administration the mirror of the ill-concerted and incongruous projects of faction, rather than the organ of consistent and wholesome plans digested by common counsels and modified by mutual interests.

However combinations or associations of the above description may now and then answer popular ends, they are likely, in the course of time and things, to become potent engines, by which cunning, ambitious, and unprincipled men will be enabled to subvert the power of the people and to usurp for themselves the reins of government, destroying afterwards the very engines which have lifted them to unjust dominion.

Washington was able to foresee all of this because the early American republic was not that different from our own time. Though the issues in the 1800 election may seem remote in 2021, Americans were no less invested in politics. Jefferson was alarmed by the way Washington and Adams had centralized control of economic policy in the federal government, such as by creating a national bank, and was convinced their foreign policies were too friendly toward Britain. He was also appalled by the Alien and Sedition Acts, which brutalized immigrants and violated the First Amendment rights of political dissidents. For his part, Adams viewed Jefferson as a libertine and radical whose ideas might push America into the bloody chaos that had overwhelmed France after the revolution of 1789. And all this vitriol was just from the campaign. After the election was decided, Aaron Burr, Jefferson’s running mate, tried to seize the presidency for himself through Machiavellian backroom dealings, prompting a serious constitutional crisis and the swift enactment of the 12th Amendment as a corrective.

None of the hostile rhetoric between Trump supporters and Joe Biden supporters in last year’s election can match the sheer bile that Adams, Jefferson and their various partisans flung at each other in 1800. The difference, of course, is that only the Republican Party, after being cannibalized and devoured from within by the Trump faction, has actually failed the ultimate test of democracy. The modern GOP produced the only president who refused to honor the American tradition of accepting defeat with grace and relinquishing power peaceably. Exactly what effect the Revolution of 2020 will have on the overall history of American democracy is not clear — but to this point, the signs are not encouraging.

More from Matthew Rozsa on the history of American politics:

Take a deep breath: Putting current inflation in the proper perspective

The October Consumer Price Index data has gotten the inflation hawks into a frenzy. And, there is no doubt it is bad news. The overall index was up 0.9 percent in the month, while the core index, which excludes food and energy, rose by 0.6 percent. Over the last year, they are up 6.2 percent and 4.6 percent, respectively. This eats into purchasing power, leaving people able to buy less with their paychecks or Social Security benefits.

While the stretch of high inflation has gone on much longer than many of us anticipated, there are still good reasons for thinking that inflation will slow sharply in the months ahead.

There is no argument about what the numbers show, but the key questions are what caused this rise in inflation and what can be done to bring it down. There are four important points to recognize:

  • Inflation has risen sharply in many wealthy countries, so this isn’t something that can be laid entirely on the policies of the Trump and Biden administrations.
  • There are good reasons for believing that many of the factors driving this inflation are temporary and will be reversed in the not too distant future.
  • Conventional remedies for inflation, like raising interest rates to increase unemployment, and thereby putting downward pressure on wages, are likely to prove counterproductive; and
  • Many people have seen increases in wages and benefits that far outweigh the impact of higher prices.

Inflation Has Risen Sharply in Many Countries, not Just the United States

On the first point, most wealthy countries have seen a substantial increase in their inflation rate in the last year, even if the current pace may not be as high as in the United States. The OECD puts Canada’s inflation rate at 4.4 percent over the last year. In Norway and Germany, the inflation rate was 4.1 percent. Some countries do have lower inflation rates. In France, the inflation rate over the last year was 2.6 percent, in Italy 2.5 percent, and in Japan, the debt king of the world, just 0.2 percent. (These data only run through September, a period in which the inflation rate for the U.S. was 5.3 percent over the prior year.)


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While there are differences in inflation rates across countries, the sharp increases in places like Canada, and especially European countries like Norway and Germany, can’t be blamed in any plausible way on U.S. policies to get through and recover from the pandemic. There is also no clear relationship between the size of the rescue and recovery packages and current inflation. For example, the size of the packages in France and Japan were considerably larger than the packages put in place in Germany, yet both countries have considerably lower inflation.

The Case for This Inflation Being Temporary

In many of the areas seeing the sharpest price increases, the inflation is clearly due to factors associated with the pandemic and the reopening of the economy which are not likely to persist long into the future. The most obvious example here is new and used vehicles, the prices of which have risen over the last year by 9.8 percent and 26.4 percent, respectively.

These two sectors, which added more than 1.2 percentage points to the overall inflation rate over the last year, have seen sharp rises in prices due to production snags associated with a worldwide shortage of semiconductors. The latter shortage in turn results from a major semiconductor producer in Japan being temporarily sidelined by a fire. This supply reduction coincided with a big upturn in worldwide demand. Because of the pandemic, consumers in the United States and other countries shifted their consumption from services, like restaurants and movies, to goods like cars, television sets, and smartphones.

RELATED: GOP governors who ended unemployment benefits failed to spur job growth, September numbers suggest

This surge in demand for goods created the backlog of containers and container ships that we are now seeing at major ports. However, we will likely work through this backlog, both because supply issues will eventually be resolved as companies arrange to hire more truck drivers and trucks, and because demand for goods will wane for the simple reason that people don’t make these purchases every month. If someone bought a car in May of 2021, they are not likely to buy another one in May of 2022.

It is not hard to find an example of this sort of price reversal. Television prices rose by 10.2 percent in the five months from March to August, a 26.3 percent annual rate of increase. In the last two months, they have fallen by 2.8 percent.

We can see similar stories in other areas. The price of a bushel of corn rose by more than 100 percent from its low in August of 2020 to its high in May of this year. It has since fallen back by almost 20 percent, to a price that is well below what we were seeing back in 2013. Lumber is an even more striking case. The price more than quadrupled from its low point in April of 2020 to its peak in May of this year. It has now fallen back by more than 50 percent to a price that is about 10 percent higher than a peak hit in June of 2018.

It’s not easy to determine how quickly supply chain issues will be resolved, but when they are, we are likely to see the price of a wide range of goods, starting with cars and trucks, reverse itself and start falling. This will be true not only for consumer goods but many intermediate goods that have been in short supply in recent months. The end of the backlogs is also likely to mean a reversal in shipping costs, which have risen by 11.2 percent in the last year, adding to the price of a wide range of products.

It is also worth noting some prices that have not risen much. The cost of medical care has risen by just 1.3 percent over the last year. The cost of college tuition is up 1.8 percent. Inflation in these former problem sectors has remained well under control through the pandemic and recovery.

RELATED: Welcome to the age of Modern Monetary Theory: It’s turning conventional economics upside down

Finally, it is worth mentioning the situation with rent, which accounts for almost a third of the overall CPI. We are seeing a sharp divergence in rental inflation across cities. The rent proper index was up 1.5 percent year-over-year in Boston and Los Angeles, 1.7 percent in Seattle and 0.2 percent in NYC. It was down 0.3 percent in Washington, DC and 0.4 percent in San Francisco over the last year. By contrast, it is up 6.3 percent in Detroit and 7.5 percent in Atlanta. This is consistent with people moving from high-priced cities to lower-priced ones.

The low rental inflation, or falling rents, in high-priced metro areas is obviously good news for renters there. However, the rising rents in previously low-priced areas are bad news for prior residents who may be looking at large rent increases. Even with 6.3 percent rental inflation, rents will still look cheap in Detroit for someone moving from Boston or New York.

It’s also important to remember that almost two-thirds of households are homeowners (only 44 percent for Blacks and 48 percent for Hispanics). For people who own their home, higher implicit rents are not a problem, and if the sale price goes up, as it has been doing, this is good news.

Anyhow, we may see some further increases in rental inflation in the months ahead. We have seen a large rise in home sales prices since the pandemic, which has far exceeded the rise in rents. The vacancy rate has also fallen somewhat, although the pace of new construction did pick up sharply, which should help to lower rents over time.

Will Slamming on the Brakes Cure Inflation?

The standard remedy for inflation is to deliberately slow the economy with higher interest rates from the Fed and possibly cuts in government spending and/or tax increases. The idea is that by slowing the economy and throwing people out of work, we can put downward pressure on wages, which will then mean lower prices.

There is no doubt that if we force workers to take large enough pay cuts, it will alleviate inflationary pressures, but this is a rather perverse way to accomplish the goal. With low interest rates and high demand, companies have large incentives to innovate to get around bottlenecks. It’s much better to allow the economy to work its way through a stretch of high inflation in ways that could lead to lasting productivity gains than to squeeze workers so as to alleviate cost pressures.

It’s also worth noting that many of the proposals being put forward by the Biden administration will help to alleviate inflationary pressures in both the long term and the short term. In the latter category, universal pre-K and increased access to childcare will make it easier for many parents, primarily women, to enter the labor force or to work more hours.

In the longer-term category, increased access to broadband and improving our transportation infrastructure will increase our capacity in many areas. Also, money spent to protect against the effects of climate change will reduce the disruptions caused by extreme weather events in the future.

This is a much more promising path for dealing with inflation than forcing workers to take pay cuts.

Keeping Score on Inflation

There have been several pieces in major news outlets in the last week telling people how inflation has been devastating for low- and moderate-income families. While it is undoubtedly hard for many families to pay more for food and other necessities, it is important to keep an eye on the income side of the equation.

In the case of families who have children, the vast majority are receiving the expanded child tax credit. Before the American Recovery Act (ARA), the credit was $2,000, but only partially refundable. This meant that many low- and moderate-income families only received $1,400 per child. Under the ARA, these families are receiving $3,000 per child and $3,600 for every child under the age of six. This is a big gain in income for a family with an income of $20,000 or $30,000. (There are families that don’t get the credit. This includes undocumented workers who are not eligible and others who are excluded because of bureaucratic obstacles. These are important issues, but unrelated to the problem of inflation.)

There also have been sharp increases in wages for workers at the bottom end of the pay ladder. Restaurant workers have seen their pay rise by $1.84 an hour over the last year. This would come to an increase of $3,680 for a full-year, full-time worker.

These increases in income would dwarf the rise in food costs that have featured prominently in news accounts on inflation. The Bureau of Labor Statistics puts the weight of food in a household’s budget at 7.4 percent. Suppose we double this for moderate-income families and make it 15 percent. For a family that spends $30,000 a year, that comes to $4,500 a year. If we apply the estimated 4.5 percent rate of food inflation over the last year, the higher prices will take a bit more than $200 out of this family’s pockets.

That is less than 10 percent of the pay increases that we expect low-paid workers to be receiving or the gains from the child tax credit for families with kids. If we’re going to talk about the well-being of these families it is incredibly irresponsible to only talk about the spending side of the ledger and ignore the income side.       

Conclusion: Team Transitory Is Not Throwing in the Towel

While the stretch of high inflation has gone on much longer than many of us anticipated, there are still good reasons for thinking that inflation will slow sharply in the months ahead. We have seen the prices of many items, like television sets and lumber, reverse and fall sharply after prior run-ups. It is likely that many other items, like cars and meat, will be in this category in the near future.

For what it’s worth, it seems that financial markets also agree with this assessment. The interest rate on 10-year Treasury bonds is only 1.56 percent, well below the pre-pandemic level. That is not consistent with a story where markets expect 4 or 5 percent inflation in coming years.

Also, contrary to gloom and doom predictions, the dollar has been rising in value against the euro and other currencies. That is also not consistent with a belief that the U.S. is facing a wage-price spiral.

Financial markets can be wrong, as those of us who predicted the collapse of the stock and housing bubbles know well. But for now at least, they seem to be in agreement with the analysis from Team Transitory.

Chris Christie questions whether Trump is “nuts” as ex-president continues to spout election lies

According to a report from the Guardian, based upon Chris Christie’s new book, the former New Jersey governor suggests that former president Donald Trump might not be mentally well as he continues to insist the election was stolen from him despite all evidence to the contrary.

In his book “Republican Rescue: Saving the Party from Truth Deniers, Conspiracy Theorists, and the Dangerous Policies of Joe Biden,” to be published Monday, the GOP lawmaker offers a prescription for what ails the party and a large part of that is leaving Trump behind and looking toward the future.

According to the Guardian’s Marton Pengelly, who obtained a copy of the book, its main theme echoes Christie’s comments made last week at a GOP fundraiser where he said complaining about the 2020 election results should be “over.”


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With that in mind, Pengelly writes that Christie makes note of Trump’s obsession with his loss, with the Guardian report stating, “The former governor does not say if he thinks Trump knows better about his claims of electoral fraud, or is one of those who is ‘nuts,'” with Christie writing, “We need to give our supporters facts that will help put all these fantasies to rest, so everyone can focus with clear minds on the issues that really matter. We need to quit wasting our time, our energy and our credibility on claims that won’t ever convince anyone or bring fresh converts onboard.”

Christie also takes aim at controversial Rep. Marjorie Taylor Greene (R-GA), saying the former president only puts up with her because he likes “anyone who says nice things about him.”

Christie also dismisses the QAnon faction of the Republican Party, writing, they “would be ridiculous” if they weren’t “so sad.”

You can read more here.

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Women’s professional STEM societies rethink gender diversity

In 2013, Nicole “Nic” Johnson was pursuing her doctorate in counseling psychology and making the requisite rounds of academic conferences. “They were always very, sort of cold and nonpersonal,” she said. “Very heady and ivory tower.” But that perception changed, she said, when she walked into a Marriott hotel in Salt Lake City for a conference sponsored by the Association for Women in Psychology. “It was sort of this beautiful space where everybody was viewed as equal and having something to offer.”

However, lately Johnson said she’s realized that not everyone feels welcome. Students and members of AWP who are transgender (their identity does not match their sex assigned at birth) or who are nonbinary (their gender expression or identity does not adhere to the traditional man-or-woman view) have told her, “‘I don’t know if that’s a space for me.'” She wants the tight-knit community to widen its circle and encompass greater gender diversity.

In an editorial published in this past summer’s AWP newsletter, Johnson argued that removing “women” from the organization’s name would represent an important step towards inclusiveness. “I strongly believe that women’s liberation is tied up in destroying the gender binary and one way we as an organization can embrace this call is through expanding our focus beyond the binary notion of womanhood,” she wrote.

To that end, the AWP is surveying members about their views on a name change and is considering adding a position of gender inclusivity coordinator to the governing board.

But some members of the group, particularly those who fought for women’s rights decades ago, vehemently oppose those developments. In a counterpoint published in the same newsletter, eight veteran AWP members defended the organization’s name as well as its focus. One of the co-authors is Oliva Espín, a psychologist and professor emerita of women’s studies at San Diego State University. A member of AWP since she was in graduate school in 1973, Espín said that no organization can be all things to all people. “Black Lives Matter doesn’t mean other people’s lives do not matter,” she said. “It means we have to focus on that because it’s something that is still needed.”

Women face issues of job discrimination, bodily autonomy, and lack of safety specifically because they are women, she said. “With all this emphasis on taking everybody in, what you’re doing is diluting what the organization is about, and sort of denying the fact that women are still oppressed.”

Scientific understanding is evolving to recognize that both biological sex and the cultural construct of gender lie on a continuum. (See, for example, the September 2017 issue of Scientific American and subsequent e-book on the new science of sex and gender.) And robust evidence supports the notion that racial, gender, and cultural diversity leads to better science. But who should take on the mantle of champion for people who aren’t represented by traditional academic and professional organizations?

Like Espín, my mother was one of the original women’s libbers. She worked as a secretary while earning a degree in physics engineering in an all-male department. It was from her that I first heard cartoonist Bob Thaves’ line (paraphrased) that “Ginger Rogers did everything Fred Astaire did, only backwards and in high heels.” Should women’s organizations, still fighting for recognition in male-dominated fields, adapt to this new worldview by redefining themselves, I wondered? And will their own hard-won identity be diminished if they do?

***

In 1969, a group of about 35 psychologists who were fed up with what they perceived as the American Psychological Association’s lack of responsiveness to the issues raised by the women’s liberation movement, founded a separate group that would become the Association for Women in Psychology. Four years later, the fledgling AWP successfully lobbied for the creation of Division 35: the Society for the Psychology of Women within the APA. The APA now has more than 50 divisions, or interest groups, including Division 44 on the psychology of sexual orientation and gender diversity as well as Division 51 on men and masculinity.

Today, Division 35 and AWP still peacefully co-exist with many members belonging to both organizations, said Division 35’s president-elect Carrie Castañeda-Sound, a professor of psychology at Pepperdine University. However, one difference I found between the two is that Division 35 is actively working to broaden the population it serves. On the APA website, for example, Division 35 leadership purposefully uses “womxn” to include feminists of diverse genders. (“Womxn” and “womyn” — both pronounced like “women” — are spellings intended to sever the word “women” from its patriarchal roots.)

That language, which is not consistent throughout their materials, is a sign of an organization in transition, said Castañeda-Sound. “We’re in between still.” What that looks like for her as a cisgender woman (someone who’s identity aligns with the gender and sex assigned at birth) is empowering those with personal and research expertise in gender diversity to use their voice. “Leaning into those difficult conversations has been important,” she said.

“It compels us to rethink what feels ‘normal,”’ she added.

The common thread that binds Division 35’s diverse membership, said Castañeda-Sound, is intersectional feminism, the idea that discrimination based on race, class, gender, and sexuality interact to amplify inequality. As an example, she points to the group’s guidance in the wake of Texas’ controversial abortion ban, which prohibits abortions as early as six weeks, reminding mental-health providers that nonbinary and transgender people can have uteruses, too. “It’s widening that discussion to say this isn’t just affecting cisgender women,” she said.

I sifted through websites and emailed representatives of more than a dozen organizations for women in science to see if other groups were similarly reflecting on their identity. Although most organizations focus on girls and women, I found a few indications of change. The Association for Women in Mathematics, for example, commits to “providing a supportive community for all self-identified cis- or transgender women and, more generally, for nonbinary or gender nonconforming individuals.”

Graduate Women in Science, an international nonprofit, did respond, saying the organization is changing its initials to GWIS+, has removed gendered language from its bylaws, and is fundraising for fellowships to support anyone whose gender has affected their participation in science. And although the National Science Foundation’s Advance program is nominally aimed at women, its criteria for awarding grants is broader. “The ADVANCE program accepts proposals that are working toward creating institutions that are equitable for all genders of STEM [science, technology, engineering, and math] faculty,” lead program officer Jessie DeAro wrote in a statement to Undark.

In her dissertation research, Andrea Haverkamp, who recently completed a doctorate in environmental engineering with a minor in queer studies at Oregon State University, found that trans and nonbinary people identified the Society of Women Engineers as one of the least inclusive professional organizations. Engineering is a conservative, male-dominated field, she said, and SWE has resisted efforts to allow nonbinary people to apply for scholarships.

Nonetheless, even at SWE, times are changing. The Hawaiian Islands chapter recently joined with the Hawai’i Community Foundation to endow a scholarship supporting all underrepresented genders, including Native Hawaiian Māhū, gender nonconforming people recognized since ancient times in Polynesian cultures. SWE did not respond to a request for comment by deadline.

***

As a doctoral student in counseling psychology at Lehigh University, Meg Credit is at a similar point in their pre-professional career as Nic Johnson was when she discovered the welcoming community of AWP. But Credit, who is genderqueer — that is, does not subscribe to conventional gender distinctions — and uses they/them pronouns, does not think that the organization is right for them. “I’d be way more interested in joining a group that has a more broad definition of gender inclusivity,” they said.

Johnson is their adviser, so Credit admits they may be biased, but nonetheless, agrees that it could be beneficial for AWP to change its name. “What I struggle with is, why not?” they said. “Why not be more inclusive in the language that we use?” At the same time, Credit acknowledges that language can be incredibly challenging — the term “womxn” is controversial, for example. Credit cares more about a group’s intentions. “Do their goals align with greater inclusivity?” they asked. “Or is it just a performative thing?”

The AWP is welcoming of everyone and one of its core goals is equality, said Espín, but the intention of the group always has been to support people who identify as women. “If you’re not a woman, create your own organization,” she said. “Don’t come in here to say ‘you women have to change your name because I’m here.'”

Both Espín and Johnson concede that older and younger people tend to view AWP’s mission differently. Younger women don’t appreciate how much harder it used to be for a woman to do ordinary things, said Espín. “That it was not possible to have a credit card or a bank account or a mortgage to buy a house.” Until passage of the Equal Credit Opportunity Act in 1974, lenders frequently denied credit to women, especially if they weren’t married. It wasn’t easy to change discriminatory practices, said Espín. And “it’s not completely changed yet.”

Pushing the group beyond its focus on women does not mean that society has achieved gender equality, said Johnson. “Quite the contrary,” she said. “In my opinion the way for us to get towards gender liberation is to really be more inclusive in how we talk about gender and who we include in the conversation.”

I thought about my mother, doubly burdened as a woman and a single parent, navigating a career in the sciences. Why is it Division 35’s job to take on complex gender issues? I asked Castaneda-Sound. Do you lose anything by widening your research and support beyond women? “I think it’s empowering,” she told me. “Feminist psychology has always taken as an analysis of power. And in a society where there’s power and privilege that comes with certain identities, I think we need to face that head on.”

Haverkamp said that her research has convinced her that groups specifically focused on women and girls are actually counterproductive because they define women by what they are not—that is, men — and continue centuries-old judgements about bodies and abilities. “It’s not tackling the issue of gender head on,” she said. “And it’s, in fact, just accepting that ‘men are from Mars, women are from Venus’, when we know that that is a very old fashioned and archaic way to view gender relations in society.”

As a physics major and then a science journalist, I certainly benefited from trailblazers like my mother who came before me. But in talking with people whose identity does not fit in one of two checkboxes, I realized that gratitude for my foremothers doesn’t mean that I can’t work with all kinds of people to continue to deconstruct barriers based on gender. What if it weren’t just Fred and Ginger, locked in the push-pull of an intricate choreography, but a whole room full of talented folks dancing their hearts out?

So, are women’s organizations the right place to work towards greater gender diversity? I asked Haverkamp. She repeated the question and let it echo for a moment. “Either, yes, women advocate for greater gender diversity, or no, women shut the door, and they say we have our marginal stake in the system, you go figure it out yourself,” she said. “The most feminist answer, would be ‘yes’ — to welcome in and advocate for the full, free, liberated range of gender expressions and embodiments in STEM.”

How do you pronounce your name?

I stared, frozen at a website my colleague sent me to record how to correctly pronounce my name. All I have to do is record myself saying it, and I’ll have a link for the benefit of others, but I can’t. I can’t say my name correctly — not in Vietnamese. I think about how the only person who says my name correctly is my mother, and how we communicate primarily by text message these days. I think about how at work it was suggested we put our pronouns into Zoom, but that didn’t stop another colleague from repeatedly being misgendered during all staff meetings.

The Vietnamese language is written with marks — diacritics — that represent different tones. To me, the diacritics represent childhood. They represent confusion. They represent something I cannot reach. It’s a change in the pitch of my voice that I have not perfected. It’s my entire family history. And so the saying of my name and the writing of it becomes complicated. I’m not here to teach my colleagues Vietnamese. I can’t. I can barely pronounce the language correctly myself. It’s a gift to be given or earned. My heart warms when I hear Vietnamese spoken with a southern accent. It’s something for me to work toward.

I started trying to learn Vietnamese recently. It was interesting how much familiarity I felt toward a language that I had never spoken with comfort (much less with fluency). When my older sister was forced into English as a Second Language in grade school, my parents promptly switched to speaking English to the rest of us children. They didn’t want us to start out behind everyone else. It took me longer than I’d like to admit to realize the language app was teaching me Vietnamese with a northern dialect. Later, I found blogs and YouTube channels teaching Saigonese, the dialect spoken in and around the city I was taught to call Saigon by my father.

* * *

My father gave me my name, so I was told. The story goes that the first two children born were named by him and given Vietnamese names. Then my mom gave English names to their second two children, so they would have an easier time in school. I doubt my younger siblings did. And contrary to my mother’s fear, I didn’t have a hard time at school because of my name. Was I too quiet to be bullied? Was I too caught up in my daydreams to notice teasing? I’ll never know. I do know that it wasn’t bullies who did things like speak to me in made-up words that were supposed to bear some resemblance to Mandarin or Cantonese. That was done to me by my own friends.

Then there’s this: due to a mistake on my birth certificate my last name is an accident. It had never been a problem that the names on my license and social security card didn’t match up. In 2011, when I was adding a motorcycle endorsement to my driver’s license, it was a problem. My license read “Vo,” which is my father’s last name and my family name. My social security card, though, read “Votang” which combines my father’s last name with my mother’s family name Tang. I drove across town to get an official birth certificate where I discovered the root of the problem. In the space for the last name, my birth certificate read “Votang.” A mistake by the nurse? A slip of the tongue by my mother? I decided not to go through the ropes of changing the name on my birth certificate. It sounded complicated when I could go get my license corrected and my motorcycle endorsement added with only more trip. And so, I officially became Thao Votang.

RELATED: I lost my dad in Nomadland

My decision wasn’t only the fatigue after a day of running from city office to state office to county office. As a writer, a unique name sounded like a golden ticket. In the back of my mind, I also couldn’t bring myself to erase this mark of my mother. My mother’s maiden name and the only connection I have to that side of the family. I hardly know anything about my family history, as far as I know we don’t have ancestry traced through the centuries, so I try to retain the little I do have. Her maiden name would be my grandfather’s last name. A grandfather who I only met once, but who was Chinese. I’m not sure if he grew up in Vietnam. I know nothing about his life. Another layer of unknowns. A Chinese name translated into Vietnamese and then turned into something else altogether.

* * *

It doesn’t escape my notice that I haven’t spoken to my father in more than a year. I remember his disbelief when he finally understood that my last name wasn’t his family name. Another family whose history I barely know. He has one remaining sister in Vietnam. I hear from my mother that he doesn’t talk to her, and that all four of her children, my cousins just a few years older than me, have died. My father sponsored his brother and his brother’s family to the U.S. when I was a senior in high school. I’m told they don’t talk anymore either. Another brother of his had died long ago. The same goes for his parents. I remember those grandparents only as a black and white photo in an ever present altar in my childhood home. That’s all I know.

* * *

In her book “Professional Troublemaker,” Luvvie Ajayi Jones recounts how as a child in her new U.S. school she chose a name her teachers and classmates could pronounce. Jones writes, “I felt like I needed to protect what is a sacred part of me.” Sacredness is the best way to describe how I feel about my name spoken in Vietnamese. It’s not something I want to make open to all of my colleagues. I have boundaries and my name represents my life and family. Things I chose not to make available to most of my colleagues. Over the last nineteen months, I have become more private and less enthusiastic.

I know there are positive intentions in all of the asking: for our pronouns and for our names. But there is a certain kind of woman who I come across at parties that will ask me to talk about myself without asking any specifics. I can’t really put my finger on why, but I find myself dodging the question. I find myself suspecting whether they will use my story in their writing or art as if you can sprinkle diversity like pepper. As if my life is a yoga pose they can stretch themselves into and own. My fear is based in anger and past pain. My fears are based on what I see around me in the world. I find myself on edge all the time. Waiting for the other shoe to drop. Trying to see a hurt before it happens.


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There is another type of person who will claim: “I’m Irish!” As they down their fourth drink of the night. That has always caused me to chafe. People take DNA tests and research their ancestry, and to what end? To find proof that they are not simply American? To add nuance to the whiteness that has been so carefully constructed to keep others othered? People want to know how to say my name correctly so they can show their allyship. “But what else could they do?” you ask. I do not have all the answers. I am looking just as hard as those who are searching genealogy sites.

* * *

I stare at the record-your-name website and am still not moving. The request to record my name reminds me of when I’m asked to watch for other people’s blindspots so they don’t have to learn to see. At these times I now think about protecting what is sacred. I think about how I was constantly in pain at the ongoing hate crimes against Asian Americans and how it didn’t seem important enough for a statement at work until a fellow woman of the global majority pushed for one. She and I know a statement can’t staunch that wound. But she carried that labor to give me hope.

Did I finally record my name? No. The fad seems to be fading, much like the energy some people had around DEI work is starting to fade too. But if you ask, I will say it for you. What I offer is a version of my name that is not fully English or Vietnamese. Just as I am Vietnamese American, my name is pronounced in combination. First, there is that silent “h” — but it ends flatly, without the diacritic that would make it rise, as if it were a question. I say my last name flatly with no intonation. How would you pronounce a misspelling?

The correct pronunciation of my name is something I haven’t figured out. Maybe I’m not quite ready. Maybe once I can calm myself, find that pitch, and release the stiffness English has trained into my mouth I’ll be able to say it. And when I do reach that point, I will choose who I teach it to.

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