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“Don’t know what the president’s talking about”: Hume blasts Trump’s Putin comments

Fox News’ Brit Hume took issue with President Donald Trump’s assertion that “something has happened” to Vladimir Putin, causing the Russian president to go “absolutely CRAZY.” 

Speaking on the conservative news network on Monday, the long-time White House correspondent and former anchor said that the Russian leader is the same man he's always been.

"I don’t think Putin’s changed. I don’t know what the President’s talking about," Hume said. "This is the way Putin has always been. He’s always been a particularly brutal dictator, willing to take whatever measures he thought necessary to advance his interests. Whatever he thought he could get away with."

Hume accused Trump of having an “odd conception” of his Russian counterpart, saying that he didn't have an appropriately adversarial relationship with the ex-KGB man.

“He thought that he and Putin could be kind of friends and partners and make deals together,” Hume said. 

On the campaign trail, Trump pledged to end the Russia-Ukraine conflict within a day of his inauguration. Since taking office, he has blamed former President Joe Biden and Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy for the war’s outbreak while continuing his praise of Putin. His rant to Truth Social on Sunday found Trump taking a different tack. The president said that Putin "is needlessly killing a lot of people, and I’m not just talking about soldiers." 

Hume said he hoped that Trump’s Sunday comments might signal a shift in Trump’s approach to the war. 

On Tuesday, Trump doubled down on his criticisms, saying Putin “doesn’t realize” that without him in the White House, “lots of really bad things would have already happened to Russia.” 

“Breakdown in trust”: Hegseth’s Pentagon, White House drift apart amid leaks investigation

Ongoing investigations into leaks at Pete Hegseth’s Department of Defense have led to mistrust between the Pentagon and the White House, per a new report from The Guardian. 

Last month, three high-level Pentagon staffers were removed from their posts due to their suspected involvement in leaks surrounding military plans to retake the Panama Canal. All three men denied any wrongdoing in a joint statement. An investigation into the firings unearthed an even more alarming detail: the aides had been outed by a warrantless wiretap.

Unnamed White House advisers who spoke with the Guardian said they raised the issue with aides close to Vice President JD Vance, only to find that the wiretap story was bunk. The outlet said the advisers "complained that they were being fed dubious information by Hegseth’s personal lawyer, Tim Parlatore," the man in charge of the leaks investigation. 

The Guardian reports that wiretap claims have harmed the credibility of Hegseth's office, saying the back-and-forth "fueled a breakdown in trust between the Pentagon and the White House," where Trump advisers "no longer have any idea about who or what to believe." One adviser reportedly told Hegseth that he didn't believe a word of the Cabinet member's justifications for the firings, alleging that the former Fox News host cooked up the story to win an intra-office struggle.

Trump’s national security team has been awash in controversies throughout the early months of his second term. Hegseth and others famously discussed classified war plans for Yemen in a group chat that included the editor-in-chief of The Atlantic, a scandal that became known as “Signalgate.” The Defense head allegedly sent classified military plans in a separate chat channel that included his wife and brother.

A spokesperson for the White House told The Guardian in a statement that “President Trump is confident in the secretary’s ability to ensure top leadership at the Department of Defense shares their focus on restoring a military that is focused on readiness, lethality, and excellence.”

NPR is fighting back over Trump’s “retaliatory viewpoint-based discrimination”

President Donald Trump’s war with the media has a new front. National Public Radio is suing his administration over an executive order to cut off funding for the radio network and other public news outlets. 

NPR and three Colorado affiliates filed the lawsuit on Tuesday, arguing that the order violated the First Amendment and “flatly contravenes statutes duly enacted by Congress and violates the Separation of Powers and the Spending Clause by disregarding Congress’s express command.” 

“​​The Order’s objectives could not be clearer,” said the suit, which was filed in Washington, D.C. It “aims to punish NPR for the content of news and other programming the President dislikes and chill the free exercise of First Amendment rights by NPR and individual public radio stations across the country.”

The president signed the order, which targets NPR and PBS, at the beginning of this month, saying that no media organization has a “constitutional right to taxpayer subsidies,” and that “neither entity presents a fair, accurate, or unbiased portrayal of current events.” Trump earlier called the two outlets “horrible and completely biased platforms” in a post on Truth Social, calling on Congress to defund them immediately. “Republicans, don’t miss this opportunity to rid our Country of this giant SCAM, both being arms of the Radical Left Democrat Party. JUST SAY NO AND, MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN!!!” he wrote

PBS President Paula Kreger called the move “blatantly unlawful” at the time. On Tuesday, NPR CEO Katherine Maher released a statement explaining the suit, which called the order “a clear violation of the Constitution and the First Amendment's protections for freedom of speech and association, and freedom of the press.”

“This is retaliatory, viewpoint-based discrimination in violation of the First Amendment,” she added. “NPR will never agree to this infringement of our constitutional rights, or the constitutional rights of our Member stations, and NPR will not compromise our commitment to an independent free press and journalistic integrity."

The suit names Trump as well as Treasury Secretary Scott Bessent and Director of the Office of Management and Budget Russell Vought, among the defendants. 

The magic of rock and roll is a sacred archive maintained by those alive to still play the hits

A handful of songs into Benmont Tench’s recent performance in Chicago, he paused to take inventory before choosing the next number, ticking off the names of the artists on one hand: “Tom, Tom, Jerry, Chuck…” He is legitimately on a first-name basis with most of those people, but it wasn’t bragging, he was talking about those artists in the same the way the fans in the queue outside had been doing while waiting to get inside, people for whom rock and roll is not a stylish accessory or background for an evening’s conversation, but instead is regarded as art that they are in an active relationship across time, over decades. 

Tench is one of those folks, too, despite also being the guy that Bob Dylan likes to call when he doesn’t feel like playing piano, or who gets asked to step in on piano and organ when it’s time to pay tribute to The Band, or more recently, as part of the house band for the Patti Smith tribute concert at Carnegie Hall in March, getting namechecked by Bruce Springsteen — “Hit it, Benmont!” — at the start of “Because the Night.” 

Of course, Benmont Tench III is most well-known for being the guy sitting over Tom Petty’s right shoulder as a charter member of the Heartbreakers, rocking away at the Hammond B3 organ. In his bandmate, guitarist Mike Campbell’s great memoir, "Heartbreaker," Campbell tells the story of how engineer Jimmy Iovine said that the trick to making a song better when you worked with a keyboard player like Danny Federici of the E Street Band or Benmont Tench was simple: Turn them up. 

Tench has been performing a brief tour across the States after releasing a lovely, introspective solo record, "The Melancholy Season," earlier this year, and in February, he played a week of well-deserved dates at the Cafe Carlyle in New York City. On the night I saw him, he worked his way through a setlist of material drawn from his two solo albums (2012’s "You Should Be So Lucky" and the aforementioned "Melancholy Season"), as well as a carefully curated collection of cover tunes. 

“Curated” is almost a dirty word these days, implying something artificial or forced, but in this context, it is about Tench’s visible, tangible affection for rock and roll as an art form and his role in maintaining its history. During the set I witnessed, there was a setlist, but he’d dispensed with it quickly, gently childing himself for calling a bunch of audibles, and that’s when he’d done that inventory of what he had already played. 

Following an animated, precise and joyful performance of Chuck Berry’s “Bye Bye Johnny,” he swung into a history lesson, correctly informing the crowd that it had been recorded “just down the street” at Chess Records, about 4 miles south as the crow flies down at 2120 South Michigan Avenue. “I don’t know who it was [that played on the original] but I wish I played like that,” he confessed, obviously not realizing that he just did.

Benmont Tench (Jordi Vidal/Redferns/Getty Images)Tench is a polymath, a cross-genre equal-opportunity appreciator of great music. So while his set featured his rendition of the Grateful Dead’s “China Doll,” he also offered a stunning interpretation of Joy Division’s “Love Will Tear Us Apart.” The distillation of that song’s trancelike synth bridge into dissonant, chunky piano chords still maintained the song’s deep despair while also transforming it into something a 72-year-old gentleman wearing a suit and a Panama hat could comfortably embody. 

Tench is a polymath, a cross-genre equal-opportunity appreciator of great music.

He’d later gently admonish a request for the Velvet Underground’s “Venus In Furs,” explaining that there was no way he could play it without a viola. He’d later end the set proper by telling us that he was about to play an old song — “maybe it’s Celtic” — and the crowd sat quietly awaiting this piece of history. Except that the ancient composition in question was the Velvets’ “Rock & Roll,” telling us about Janey and how her life was saved by rock and roll. He was singing it for us, but he was also singing it for himself. 

Tench is also the person in the story in Campbell’s book concerned that they couldn’t call themselves the Heartbreakers because there was already a band with that name, the New York Dolls’ Johnny Thunders collection of motley guitar assassins. (Petty and company did not get a warm reception when they played CBGB’s, and the venue had to work overtime to make sure people knew it wasn’t those Heartbreakers.) 


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There was a noticeable amount of sibilance in Tench’s vocals the night of the show I attended, and after a few songs he’d explain that “a funny thing happened on my way to Chicago,” where a routine visit to his doctor led to the discovery that the tongue cancer he’d been managing since 2011 had moved into his jaw, and he had to have his jaw removed and then replaced from bone in one of his legs. “It hurts sometimes, but — I’m still here,” he declared. If there was somehow anyone in the audience who wasn’t already on his side, they absolutely were then. It was a hard reminder of why you should always go to the show, spin that record, sing along to that song.

The many Tom Petty shirts in the crowd were acknowledged multiple times through Tench’s setlist choices. Early on, he’d delivered a wry “Welcome to Hell” by Mudcrutch, an early Petty outfit Tench was part of, and a short time later, a warm and poignant rendition of “Straight Into Darkness” from the Heartbreakers’ 1982 album "Long After Dark." The lines “I don’t believe the good times are over / I don’t believe the thrill is all gone” hit differently these days, harder, bleaker. Tench’s interpretation is close to the original but, like all of the non-originals tonight, carries his unique and distinctive perspective. He’s classically trained, but balances his proficiency by possessing (like the aforementioned Federici) a kind of preternatural sense of what a song needs.

Tench obviously feels the music he’s performing, at one point knocking over an adjacent bottle of water from the vibration on the keys and his foot on the ground and the pedals. This was not a mellow evening of gentle, contemplative acoustic keyboard sounds by any means. His originals are quietly addictive; the title track from "The Melancholy Season" sticks with you, as do tunes like “Today I Took Your Picture Down” or the delightful romp of “Wobbles” from his first solo outing, written about a young lady walking up Esplanade Avenue in New Orleans after a few adult beverages. 

It is a sacred privilege and duty to be able to do that, to keep memories and energy alive and inhabited, and to extend that gesture out into the audience as well.

One of the evening’s most incredible moments was a trenchant version of Bob Dylan’s “Blind Willie McTell,” also calling back to the Big Easy, delivered with authority and depth, and rich with color and shading. It shouldn’t be surprising, because he’s spent time with the man. He played on 2020’s "Rough and Rowdy Ways," and once again, the Heartbreakers were the backing band at Dylan’s 2023 surprise Farm Aid appearance. Perhaps most legendarily, the Heartbreakers toured as Dylan’s backing band back in 1986, and stories of their time with him are some of the best chapters in the Campbell memoir. 

The last song of the night was “American Girl,” one of the best rock and roll songs ever. Everybody can probably hear that guitar intro in their head, so its choice as a solo piano number might seem curious. But as with everything else Tench had delivered that night, he performed it with extra heart and so much soul. But also, everyone knows that song like a catechism already, so listening to Tench’s heartbreaking rendition is one of those moments where you hear what’s being played in front of you alongside the one that lives in your brain already. We know we’ll never hear it again that way, but we still get to sit here and listen to the person who played on it when it was recorded and played it live with Petty and the rest of his bandmates over the years, continuing to keep those molecules alive in the atmosphere. It is a sacred privilege and duty to be able to do that, to keep memories and energy alive and inhabited, and to extend that gesture out into the audience as well. 

Musician Tom Petty (2nd L) and members of The Heartbreakers (L-R) Ron Blair, Benmont Tench, and Mike Campbell attend the world premiere of "Runnin' Down A Dream" at the Steven J. Ross Theater at Warner Bros. Studios on October 2, 2007 in Burbank, California. (Charley Gallay/Getty Images)Mike Campbell’s "Heartbreaker" isn’t just a great book about playing guitar with Tom Petty for almost half a century, it’s also a truly engaging book about a life in rock and roll. Coming in at almost 450 pages, it might seem imposing from the outside, but it’s a very quick and easy read, perfect for days at the beach or long plane trips. You don’t have to be a huge fan of Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers to enjoy it, either, because Campbell is such a reliable narrator and generally affable guy, who is willing to give you a front seat to decades of music history. 

The most inscrutable thing about the book is when Campbell goes off into painstaking detail about guitars — which, if you’re someone who plays guitar (or cares about them), will be heaven. But he’s so enthusiastic that he will make you want to look up every single guitar model he’s talking about, from the small Rickenbacker he bought from a classified ad and that Tom Petty himself posed with on the cover of "Damn the Torpedoes," or the Broadcaster that was one his core guitars, and you will find yourself doing web searches to see exactly what he’s talking about. 

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The best example of this is the story he tells about the time he and Petty were summoned to a surprise outing to meet the Rolling Stones and watch them rehearse. They had no idea where they were going or who would be there, and yet, the first thing Campbell will tell you is what guitars they all had. Only then he will tell you about what it was like to be standing in a room with Mick Jagger, Keith Richards, Ronnie Wood and Charlie Watts. (Bill Wyman was missing because he didn’t like waiting around for Keith, but Keith was early this time. This meant that Campbell got a chance to fill in on bass.) If you’ve ever known a guitar player, this will be completely unsurprising behavior, but even if you haven’t, it’s probably what you imagine it’s like anyway. 

If you’ve already seen the great Heartbreakers documentary "Running Down A Dream" and/or read the Warren Zanes Petty biography, Campbell’s memoir is not extraneous, but rather fills in the blanks and adds so much additional color. He is unvarnished about his drug use, the band’s drug use, the interpersonal squabbles, the places everyone took wrong turns and made bad decisions — musically, financially, or just as a human being alive on planet earth. It would have been easy to gloss over those parts, or leave them out completely (and likely there are stories that didn’t make the cut for a wide variety of reasons, to be sure). By the end, you’ll probably be wondering why the room has suddenly gotten so dusty while at the same time cheering him on, loudly, in his post-Heartbreakers life. 

Benmont Tench has dates in Philadelphia, Boston and New York City in June; more information is at https://www.benmonttench.com/. Mike Campbell’s book "Heartbreaker" is out now, and you can see him and his band the Dirty Knobs on the road with Chris Stapleton or Blackberry Smoke throughout the summer. 

Stephen King’s most anxious character is also his most heroic

In Stephen King's 2023 crime novel, "Holly," the author's favorite character (and mine), Holly Gibney, solves a series of grisly murders in her first stand-alone book after appearing as an anxiety-ridden sleuth in a number of King's earlier works, starting with the first installment of the Bill Hodges trilogy, "Mr. Mercedes," in 2014. After forming an unlikely partnership with Hodges and aiding in his investigations, she's no longer the person she was when her character was first introduced — the chainsmoking and painfully quiet black sheep of a wealthy family — but someone with a deep well of inner strength and an intuitive knack for solving the riddle of others' lives, but not her own, by making her hangups and compulsions work in her favor, turning what could otherwise be simply referred to as a grab-bag of mental illness into a unique blend of skills that allows her to see clues that others are blind to and recognize patterns in people's actions that the non-neurospicy would not as easily pick up on. 

Described by King as someone who is insecure and yet at the same time has a lot of courage, Holly doubles down on the work she's done to not only trust herself as being someone capable of saving the day, but to allow others to trust in her as that, pushing herself even further to combat her insecurities in order to get out of her own way to solve not one case, but two, in her second stand-alone book, "Never Flinch," in which she takes on a sidequest as a body guard for a larger than life abortion rights influencer named Kate McKay as her life is threatened by a religious zealot stalker while also helping her friend, Detective Izzy Jaynes, investigate a string of murders committed by someone hell-bent on justifying their own beyond strained moral compass. 

Gibney, now well into her 50s, has more than proven her strength as an investigator after learning the ropes from Hodges and taking over the Finders Keepers detective agency following his death, but even her biggest supporters would chuckle at the thought of her working as a bodyguard and she herself would have chuckled the hardest. But, as with the other cases she has worked on, Gibney finds herself positioned on the frontline of dangerous situations that she may not be the obvious choice for — but is the best choice for — because strength has nothing to do with how you look and everything to do with your ability to step up and be brave when needed.

Anyone who's scrolled TikTok or Facebook and come across a video of a big "guard dog" cowering or running for cover in the presence of perceived danger, only for a chihuahua to come charging in from a back room of the house to attack and protect the home in the larger dog's stead knows the message here. Small, smart and missing a few marbles is often just what you need when the sh*t hits the fan. And while this shouldn't be such a surprise in its effectiveness, even King saw it as a humorous setting to drop Holly into.

Small, smart and missing a few marbles is often just what you need when the sh*t hits the fan.

"I wanted to write a book where Holly got a job as a bodyguard. And that interested me because she's getting on a little bit in years," King says in a promotional video for "Never Flinch." "She's in her 50s or maybe even the early 60s by now. She's a very quiet person. She's [an] insecure person. But she's also brave. And that particular contrast really fascinated me. And so I wanted to put her in a situation where she had to become a bodyguard for a famous person. Holly, instead of a big, strong guy, you know. A little woman who is about 120 pounds soaking wet and who's always afraid she's going to do the wrong thing, that her zipper's gonna come undone, who had a hard job in high school — you know, somebody who's really got an inferiority complex. But, at the same time, she's extremely smart; she's got a lot in the way of deductive reasoning. When it comes to intuition, she's got that kind of divinity going to her. I just like Holly!"


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Dating back to the very first crime novel — so basically, the Bible — we've been positioned to envison heroes as being men, and not just your average everyday man, but a man who knows more than everyone else and can move mountains with the raise of his eyebrow, if for no other reason than he was born a man and that's what men are supposed to do. But even in fiction, the ability to suspend our disbelief there is getting harder and harder because, as the Jenny Holzer installation sign in that famous Kurt Cobain photo reads, men don't protect you anymore. A new kind of hero, as depicted in King's recent novels, is more than just a curious setup for readers or a way to freshen up a genre, it's a practical solution to answering the question, "Who is gonna save us now?" When a millennia of men have flat out taken no interest in performing in the capacity we've been raised to believe they could, or would.

In a media landscape shaped by ingrained tropes, it's inspiring to read about someone like Holly—someone who recognizes the societal and personal hangups that stand between her and what she knows she's capable of, yet still finds a way to do what she needs and wants to do anyway. That's my favorite brand of "kicking ass," and as a fan of Stephen King's for just about my whole life, I'm glad he's on the same page.

A poster advertising "Never Flinch" by Stephen King is displayed at Simon and Schuster publishing during the London Book Fair at Olympia Exhibition Centre on March 12, 2025, in London, England. (John Keeble/Getty Images)Throughout "Never Flinch," Holly doubts her ability to be brave enough to do what needs to be done to protect her client as a bodyguard and to help her detective friend track down this killer, but that doubting of her own courage never comes with even a moment's thought that she'll give up trying. 

In a media landscape shaped by ingrained tropes, it's inspiring to read about someone like Holly—someone who recognizes the societal and personal hangups that stand between her and what she knows she's capable of, yet still finds a way to do what she needs and wants to do anyway.

Traveling city to city with the abortion rights influencer, McKay, she struggles with the dynamic between herself as a quiet person and the bold and in-your-face nature of this woman who is now her boss, for the duration of the assignment. She doesn't know how to stand up to McKay and earn her respect. And she doesn't know how to tell McKay that the way she's treating her assistant, Corrie, is not just rude, but abusive.

King writes in the book, "Holly has faced a loaded gun; on at least two occasions, she has faced creatures for which there is no scientific explanation. It's not courage she lacks, it's the fundamental self-worth necessary to call someone out on their hurtful behavior. She may never be a person who can do that. It's a deeper character flaw than not wanting to be seen in a swimsuit, and she doesn't know how to fix it."

And (spoiler alert) Holly never does have a big blow out with McKay where she puts her in her place, saying all the perfectly worded, cut you to the quick things. The sort of clever monologue we fantasize in the shower about delivering to someone who makes a hobby out of treating us like crap. What she does instead is save her life. A couple of times. And does McKay appreciate it? Well, she says that she does, but that's not really the point. The point is that Holly knew what was right and had occasion to do what was right, and did it. Not to win McKay over, because some people just can't be, but because her compass was pointed north and she followed it, regardless of how shaky the hand holding it was or who was trying to rip it from her hand and chuck it into the bushes. She didn't flinch.

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Holly isn't cocky about being amazing at her job or continually dealing with and working through her own issues to do what needs to be done. In fact, her inner monologue in one tense chapter is: "Think, you stupid ineffectual bit*h, think!" And it would seem like a weird flex to relate but, really . . . who amongst us?

I spend a lot of time worrying about how to better come across as professional and someone who is deserving of respect. Reading King's Holly stories helps me ease up on my anxieties surrounding all that because she shows that it's not about appearing to be something, it's about actually being it. And if people want to try to bulldoze you and are slow to realize the strength you have within, then those people are on the precipice of a big surprise that will only work in your favor when you accomplish your goals, as they busy themselves with underestimating you.

Holly isn't Batman. She isn't the hero that a dangerous and strife-ridden locale in past, present, or future deserves. She's the hero we need, right now, because she can get the job done and not be a dick about it. I'd pick her. And yeah, even on days when my own inner monologue is saying I'm a stupid, ineffectual bit*h, I aspire to guard with more care the parts of myself that are a lot like her. 

Stanley Tucci wants us to cook together again

I remember standing in my kitchen alone, elbows dusted with flour, watching a dozen strangers knead dough on Zoom. We were all there for a pandemic-era sourdough class, gamely folding and shaping in our separate homes. It was oddly intimate, weirdly funny and kind of moving. Still, I kept thinking: I wish we were all in one big kitchen together.

Which is probably why a scene from the new season of “Tucci in Italy” caught in my throat a little. Stanley Tucci travels to Villa San Sebastiano, a small town in Abruzzo that had been rebuilt from the rubble of a landslide in the 1950s. As Tucci explains, after the church, the first thing the villagers rebuilt was their communal bread oven — the place where, for generations, everything had revolved around bread.

“This place helped rebuild the community after the landslide, but gradually convenience culture meant that those traditional methods fell out of favor,” Tucci notes in his voiceover. “Eventually the bread oven closed, taking the social heart of the village with it — until Lucia came along.” 

Chef Lucia Tellone, who now tends the oven, told Tucci it had been cold for 35 years. In that time, the village stopped baking bread. But more than that, they stopped gathering.

It didn’t happen all at once. Store-bought loaves were faster, easier. Why fire up the old communal oven when you could grab a ciabatta at the supermarket? Little by little, the ritual frayed. Neighbors stopped overlapping at the oven, stopped swapping stories while they waited for dough to rise. Until eventually, the oven just — wasn’t needed. At least not for bread.

When Tellone asked her neighbors why they didn’t come back to use it, they told her: “We don’t know how.”

“In Italy?” Tucci asked, slightly incredulous.

“Because today, everybody’s comfy,” Tellone said, with a shrug.

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But instead of giving up, she started teaching. One by one, she invited people back. Children, she discovered, were the best students — curious, unafraid and (mostly) willing to get their hands messy. And slowly, the heat returned.

Now, once a week, Lucia lights the fire again. The whole village gathers. Everyone brings something: a tray of dough, a jar of olives, a bottle of wine. They cook together. They eat together. There’s flour in the air and drinks in tumblers. Pizza on long wooden paddles, laughter echoing off stone walls. It’s not a performance. It’s not precious. It’s just people — neighbors — spending an afternoon together, rebuilding community one loaf at a time.

Watching from my couch in Chicago, I could almost smell the crust crisping. The language was Italian, the architecture distinctly Abruzzese — but the vibe? The vibe could’ve been a block party on my street. A little rosé, a little music, someone slicing something warm and golden on a cutting board. That everyday magic that makes you want to linger. That makes you feel like you belong.

It also made me think of something Tucci told me during a press interview ahead of the show’s release, when I asked him to reflect on that moment in Villa San Sebastiano. “I think cooking together is a really great thing — as a family, with friends and certainly as a community,” he said. “We don’t really do that very often anymore.” 

He continued: "We’re all sort of, you know, hidden away in our own houses. People get together for barbecues and all that stuff, but even that, it’s like, the guy does the barbecue and the lady does the blah blah blah. I’m not such a believer in that. I think it’s good for everybody to pitch in, doing everything.”

"I think cooking together is a really great thing — as a family, with friends and certainly as a community."

There’s a lot wrapped up in that quote — domestic labor and gender roles, of course, but also something deeper: the fact that so many of us crave connection, but often forget that community isn’t something we attend. It’s something we build.

The pandemic reminded us of this in fits and starts. We flocked to Zoom cooking classes. We baked banana bread. We swapped sourdough starters like friendship bracelets. We made elaborate meals with the people in our pods. We were lonely, yes — but we were also remembering something.

That being together isn’t just about proximity. It’s about participation.

Lately, I’ve been trying to hold onto that. Not just the casual kind of community — waving at a neighbor, chatting with the barista (though that matters too). I mean the messy, intentional kind. The show-up-for-each-other kind. The flour-on-your-forearms kind.

And I’ll be honest: it’s hard. We’re all so comfy, as Tellone put it

But now, as we drift into summer cookout season, maybe there’s something to Tucci’s suggestion: Rethink the barbecue. Instead of everyone bringing a dish, what if we brought aprons? Rolled up our sleeves? Cooked something side by side, bread in the oven, the kitchen full of noise again.

Not just a meal — but a little village.

Trump’s distraction machine is working

There was a menacing cloud hanging over Chicago as I walked down Michigan Avenue the other day. It slowly descended. At first, I thought the cloud was fog, but the air was not damp. I continued walking. I noticed people were covering their mouths and noses with their shirts or jackets. Some of them were coughing. I chose to breathe deeply. My throat was not itching. My eyes were not burning. I breathed deeply again. I wondered, is the air full of incinerated medical waste? Asbestos or some other poison that will give me cancer? Smoke from a forest fire miles away? Was HAARP or some other weather control device that the conspiracy theorists have long been obsessed with malfunctioning? I laughed out loud. 

I then asked myself: Given how bad things are in America right now, what is the worst that can possibly happen to me from this bad air? I quickly realized the answer: a lot. So I covered my mouth and nose like everyone else.

Trump and his agents are turning their firehose of distraction, falsehoods and spectacle on full blast. The water is rising very quickly.

Eventually, my phone buzzed with a weather alert. Chicago was experiencing a historic dust storm. In the Middle East, such a storm is called a “haboob.” I walked several more blocks and looked up at Trump Tower. The dust cloud was now hovering below the huge “Trump Tower” sign. I smiled at the absurdity and power of the metaphor that is the Age of Trump and its oppressive toxicity that has confused and disoriented so many Americans.

Donald Trump is a master propagandist and agent of chaos and distraction with power and influence over a vast propaganda and disinformation machine. Trump’s ability to dominate the 24/7 media and this age of spectacle is likely unprecedented in modern (if not all of) American history. He is a defining personality and character of this era.

In a 2023 conversation, Lee McIntyre, author of the book “On Disinformation: How to Fight for Truth and Protect Democracy,” explained to me: "I doubt that Trump has ever taken a course in psyops or that he reads disinformation training manuals in his spare time, but he is nonetheless a master, near-genius-level propagandist. He uses the exact same techniques of disinformation on an American audience that Putin uses on his citizens."

When Donald Trump, his MAGA Republicans and the larger antidemocracy movement encounter difficulties with their "shock and awe" campaign and blitzkrieg against American democracy and society, they amplify the power and reach of their disinformation and propaganda experience machine. The mainstream news media, the Democrats and other members of the responsible political class (and many among the general public) have been conditioned to respond almost like Pavlov’s dogs. They chase the newest outrage or spectacle and react like it is a surprise instead of focusing on the bigger picture and goals that these controversies and “shocking” events are advancing and/or hiding.

In a recent New York Times opinion essay, Ezra Klein explained how disorientation and a lack of focus are the intended outcome of Donald Trump and his agents’ “flooding the zone” strategy and tactic:

Focus is the fundamental substance of democracy. It is particularly the substance of opposition. People largely learn of what the government is doing through the media — be it mainstream media or social media. If you overwhelm the media — if you give it too many places it needs to look, all at once, if you keep it moving from one thing to the next — no coherent opposition can emerge. It is hard to even think coherently….

The flood is the point. The overwhelm is the point. The message wasn’t in any one executive order or announcement. It was in the cumulative effect of all of them. The sense that this is Trump’s country now. This is his government now. It follows his will. It does what he wants. If Trump tells the state to stop spending money, the money stops. If he says that birthright citizenship is over, it’s over.

Or so he wants you to think. In Trump’s first term, we were told: Don’t normalize him. In his second, the task is different: Don’t believe him.

Trump knows the power of marketing. If you make people believe something is true, you make it likelier that it becomes true…

It is a strategy that forces you into overreach. To keep the zone flooded, you have to keep acting, keep moving, keep creating new cycles of outrage or fear. You overwhelm yourself. And there’s only so much you can do through executive orders. Soon enough, you have to go beyond what you can actually do. And when you do that, you either trigger a constitutional crisis or you reveal your own weakness.

Trump's “big beautiful bill” is set to take trillions of dollars away from the American people and give it to the richest people and corporations. If enacted, it will be one of the largest — if not the largest — transfers of wealth in American history and further gut the social safety net. Trump's "big beautiful bill" is unpopular with the American people and would likely trigger a huge backlash — given any sustained attention.

While the GOP-controlled House passed Trump's bill, the media's attention was mostly focused on Trump's “gifted” 400-million-dollar jetliner, a literal flying palace and king’s court, from the government of Qatar. This is part of a much larger pattern of conflict of interests and corrupt power in apparent violation of the Constitution’s Emoluments Clause and other ethics laws in which Donald Trump, his family and inner circle have leveraged the office of the presidency for personal enrichment. 

Meanwhile, the United States Supreme Court has ordered a pause on Trump’s mass deportation program under the Alien Enemies Act. There have been a series of lower court rulings that have also ordered a pause or outright stop to key parts of the Trump administration’s actions and policies. A series of public opinion polls recently showed that Trump’s support at this point in his presidency among the American people has collapsed at a rate not seen in 80 years. However, new public opinion polls show that Trump’s support may have stabilized and is crawling back to his ceiling of approximately 45% to 47%. In total, Donald Trump’s policies and behavior remain widely unpopular.

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Donald Trump’s historic global tariff regime has not created a new “golden age” for the United States and the American people. Leading economists and other business leaders continue to warn that the shocks from Trump’s tariffs will cause disruptions to the economy if not a recession (or worse). Moody’s has downgraded the credit-rating of the United States from AAA (the highest level).

Donald Trump and his administration’s foreign policy –– and his brand as a “dealmaker” — continues to falter. Most notably, the war in Ukraine continues and the United States’ role as the world’s leading democracy and an indispensable nation has been greatly diminished in just the first four months of Trump’s return to power.

Trump and his agents responded by turning their firehose of distraction, falsehoods and spectacle on full blast. The water is rising very quickly.

In a recent Truth Social post, Donald Trump continued his attacks against singer Taylor Swift ("Has anyone noticed that, since I said 'I HATE TAYLOR SWIFT,' she's no longer 'HOT?'"). He also turned his rage against Bruce Springsteen, Beyonce, Bono and Oprah Winfrey by accusing them of being part of a vast anti-Trump conspiracy. On Wednesday, Trump shared a video on his Truth Social platform of him hitting Bruce Springsteen with a golf ball that then causes the singer to stumble on stage.

MSNBC’s Steven Benen sorts through Trump’s conspiracy theories and warns:

To the extent that reality still has any meaning in situations like this, let’s just briefly note that there’s literally no evidence of Harris or her campaign paying anyone for endorsements; there was nothing “unlawful” or “corrupt” about the support the then-Democratic nominee received from celebrities during the 2024 campaign; Beyoncé did not face “loud booing” after she endorsed Harris; and there’s nothing “illegal” about public figures publicly backing a presidential candidate.

It’s also probably worth mentioning in passing that Trump’s hysterical online communications don’t do any favors to his “very stable genius” description of himself.

But of particular interest was the president’s interest in “a major investigation into this matter.”

All things considered, there’s no reason to get too worked up about every Trump tantrum, his rage toward celebrities who’ve dared to criticize him, his weird approach to pop culture, or his use of the word “illegal” as a synonym for “stuff I don’t like.” What I do care about, however, is the president’s willingness to use the power of the state to pursue critics in authoritarian-style fashion.

This is especially true now with the Justice Department led by an attorney general who apparently sees herself as an extension of the White House and its political agenda — which raises the prospect of a federal investigator actually initiating a probe into celebrities that Trump doesn’t like.

Trump also shared an AI-generated video of himself as a member of the rock band Journey playing their iconic song “Don’t Stop Believing” before a huge crowd of his MAGA people. In keeping with his drive for unlimited power, Trump also recently shared a series of AI-generated images of himself as the new Pope and a Sith Lord or other supremely powerful evil Jedi from George Lucas’ “Star Wars” universe.

Relatedly, former FBI director James Comey posted an image on the social media platform Instagram of the numbers “86 47” formed from seashells on a beach. Trump responded that Comey was making a coded threat against his life (“Eighty-six” is slang for “replace” or “get rid of”; Donald Trump is the 47th president of the United States). The MAGA chorus dutifully amplified Trump’s paranoid conclusions. The Secret Service is now investigating Comey’s alleged threat against Donald Trump. Comey has responded that this is all so much nonsense, and he was just sharing an image of seashells on the beach.

In her newsletter, historian Heather Cox Richardson offered this context for Donald Trump and his forces’ coordinated distraction campaign and attempts to dominate the information space:

[R]etired entrepreneur Bill Southworth tallied the times Trump has grabbed headlines to distract people from larger stories, starting the tally with how Trump’s posts about Peanut the Squirrel the day before the election swept like a brushfire across the right-wing media ecosystem and then into the mainstream. In early 2025, Southworth notes, as the media began to dig into the dramatic restructuring of the federal government, Trump posted outrageously about Gaza, and that story took over. When cuts to PEPFAR (the President’s Emergency Plan for AIDS Relief) and the U.S. Agency for International Development threatened lives across Africa, Trump turned the conversation to white South Africans he lied were fleeing “anti-white genocide.”

Southworth calls this “narrative warfare,” and while it is true that Republican leaders have seeded a particular false narrative for decades now, this technique is also known as “political technology” or “virtual politics.” This system, pioneered in Russia under Russian president Vladimir Putin, is designed to get people to vote an authoritarian into office by creating a fake world of outrage. For those who do not buy the lies, there is another tool: flooding the zone so that people stop being able to figure out what is real and tune out.

The administration has clearly adopted this plan. As Drew Harwell and Sarah Ellison of the Washington Post noted in early March, the administration set out to portray Trump as a king in order “to sell the country on [Trump’s] expansionist approach to presidential power.”

Richardson adds:

Dominating means controlling the narrative. That starts with perceptions of the president himself. Trump’s appearances have been deeply concerning as he cannot follow a coherent thread, frequently falls asleep, repeatedly veers into nonsense, and says he doesn’t know about the operations of his government.

Donald Trump and his forces’ ability to “flood the zone” as part of their larger propaganda and disinformation campaign is not some “unknown unknown,” a mystery, an impenetrable black box, a form of magic or a supernatural power. Information about how to effectively counter such strategies and tactics is readily available to almost anyone who wants to seek it out.


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For example, a free 2016 report from the Rand organization offers this advice:

We are not optimistic about the effectiveness of traditional counterpropaganda efforts. Certainly, some effort must be made to point out falsehoods and inconsistencies, but the same psychological evidence that shows how falsehood and inconsistency gain traction also tells us that retractions and refutations are seldom effective. Especially after a significant amount of time has passed, people will have trouble recalling which information they have received is the disinformation and which is the truth. Put simply, our first suggestion is don't expect to counter the firehose of falsehood with the squirt gun of truth.

The Rand report continues:

Our second suggestion is to find ways to help put raincoats on those at whom the firehose of falsehood is being directed.

Don't expect to counter Russia's firehose of falsehood with the squirt gun of truth. Instead, put raincoats on those at whom the firehose is aimed. [My emphasis added]

Another possibility is to focus on countering the effects of Russian propaganda, rather than the propaganda itself. The propagandists are working to accomplish something. The goal may be a change in attitudes, behaviors, or both. Identify those desired effects and then work to counter the effects that run contrary to your goals…

That metaphor and mindset leads us to our fourth suggestion for responding to Russian propaganda: Compete! If Russian propaganda aims to achieve certain effects, it can be countered by preventing or diminishing those effects.

In our 2023 conversation, Lee McIntyre offered this additional advice about how to resist and win an information war:

[D]isinformation has three goals. First is to try to get you to believe a falsehood. Second is to polarize you around a factual issue so that you begin to distrust, and even hate, the people who do not also believe this same falsehood. But finally comes the third and in some ways the most insidious goal of all they want you to give up. I think one message people get from disinformation is that everyone is biased, and that all speech is political. Or that things are so confusing — and there are so many voices out there who disagree — that it's just impossible to know the truth. People become confused and then cynical. They begin to feel helpless. And that is precisely the type of person that an authoritarian wants you to be.

They want you to give up. The easiest way to control a population is to control their information source. But you are not powerless. There is something you can do to fight back against disinformation. That's why I wrote the book. 

But even before you read the book, I want you to know this: the most important step in winning an information war is first to admit that you are in one. [My emphasis added]

In the end, howling and complaining that “the other side is not playing fair” instead of adapting and overcoming is no real defense and a path to defeat.

Unfortunately for the American people and the future of their democracy and freedom, throughout the long Age of Trump, the Democratic Party, the so-called Resistance, the mainstream news media and other supposed defenders of democracy and "the institutions" have not learned and internalized that lesson.

“Alone and feeling isolated”: The Trump administration is keeping immigrant families apart

Angelica’s story of irregular migration generally followed a regular path. She arrived at the United States-Mexico border last November, and as an “unaccompanied minor,” was placed at a California shelter by the Office of Refugee Resettlement. The only thing is Angelica arrived pregnant.

Angelica, 17, gave birth to her daughter in February while in ORR custody. Because of that — and despite her older sister, Deisy, completing her sponsorship application by that time — the agency temporarily barred her release until April. Changes in ORR documentation policies since then mean her and her daughter's detention is now indefinite. Unless Angelica can find another sponsor who meets the government’s requirements, she’ll be forced to remain in ORR custody until she’s 18. At that point, her daughter will be 10 months old.

“There is nothing that I want more than to live with my sister. I gave birth to my baby girl in February and being separated from my family during this time, with a new baby, has been really hard for me,” Angelica said in a sworn declaration submitted as part of a class-action lawsuit filed on behalf of unaccompanied minors against the Department of Health and Human Services. “My sister has done everything my case manager asked her to do … I don’t understand why I can’t live with her.”

Mishan Wroe, a senior attorney at the National Center for Youth Law handling the case, told Salon that Angelica, identified in the lawsuit by a pseudonym to protect her identity, is having difficulty accepting that outcome. 

“That's just not something that she was prepared for, and she's having a very hard time coming to terms with the fact that she's doing this alone, and parenting alone and feeling isolated from her family at what should be a really special time in her and her daughter’s lives,” Wroe said in a phone interview.

In March, ORR amended its documentation requirements and lifted restrictions on immigration-status-based denials for sponsors, upending the pending release of thousands of unaccompanied minors like Angelica across the nation. The National Center for Youth Law and Democracy Forward filed suit in the U.S. District Court for the District of Columbia on behalf of the plaintiffs earlier this month, requesting a preliminary injunction blocking and reversing the changes. They’re hope is that the litigation will not just lead to their clients’ release from ORR detention, but prevent prolonged detentions for other unaccompanied minors attempting to join their families in the U.S. 

“Unaccompanied children come to our country for a variety of reasons, but largely seeking safety and seeking a place where they can grow up with their families in a safe environment,” Wroe said. “By prohibiting their release to their parents — and their adult siblings, their grandparents, their close family members – and forcing them to stay in detention until they turn 18, is not a just way of treating these kids who are really only seeking the opportunity to have a childhood.”

“We're hopeful that we can play a small part in helping solve that for, at least, some of these kids,” she added.

HHS declined to comment, with a spokesperson stating that the agency does not comment on ongoing litigation. 

According to the lawsuit, ORR amended Section 2.2.4 of its policy guide in March to narrow the kind of identity documentation it accepts for sponsorship applications, which it applied retroactively, allowing the agency to refuse release of unaccompanied children to their sponsors because the latter lacked the immigration status needed to acquire such documentation. The new requirements limit the types of acceptable foreign identification, mandating that submitted foreign passports have a temporary I-551 stamp or Form I-94 with an arrival-departure record and an endorsement to work. The new policy also strikes several other previously accepted foreign identification methods, like foreign national ID cards or refugee travel documents with a photograph. 

A second amendment to the section in April required sponsors to provide specific documents to prove their income, creating another barrier for individuals without work authorization. This change also applied retroactively.

On March 24, HHS instituted an “Interim Final Rule,” which rescinded the three restrictions on the 2024 “Foundational Rule,” a regulation that requires ORR to “release a child from its custody without unnecessary delay.” That rule prohibited ORR from disqualifying “potential sponsors based solely on their immigration status,” collecting “information on immigration status of potential sponsors for law enforcement or immigration enforcement related purposes,” and sharing “any immigration status information relating to potential sponsors with any law enforcement or immigration enforcement related entity at any time.”

Prior to these changes, the agency had also expanded its fingerprinting requirement in February, mandating that all sponsors, adult household members and alternative adult caregivers submit print-based background checks prior to the child’s release, including to a parent. Prior to the change, ORR did not require fingerprinting of sponsors who were immediate relatives except in instances of safety concerns or referrals for home study. 

The policy changes come amid President Donald Trump’s crackdown on irregular migration into the U.S., creating barriers for undocumented children’s release and increasing the chance that their sponsors face immigration enforcement. Meanwhile, a March 25 report from the inspector general’s office found that U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement “can’t effectively monitor the location and status” of unaccompanied minors following their release from ORR custody, citing lapses in information sharing about their sponsors’ locations between ICE, HHS and other federal agencies. In the audit, the inspector general also reported that the agency was not always notified of the children’s statuses and safety, noting that the thousands of unaccompanied minors released to unrelated sponsors or distant relatives are at greater risk for trafficking or forced labor. 

But these policy changes violate the Administrative Procedure Act, the plaintiffs argue. Even more detrimental, they add, are the requirements also force thousands of children who would otherwise be released to vetted parents and caregivers to spend months in care facilities only intended to hold children for a few weeks. 

“Not only do these children suffer from the ongoing family separation they experience, but they also experience the cumulative and severe impacts of being detained in government custody for prolonged periods of time,” which includes increased risk of “somatic symptoms of stress and trauma,” difficulties with sleeping and eating, and worsened mental health outcomes, the lawsuit reads. 

ORR data show that in fiscal years 2021 through 2024, an unaccompanied immigrant child’s length of stay in the agency’s care ranged from 27 to 33 days, down around 50% from lengths of stay during Trump’s first presidency. Since Trump took office, those periods have jumped for children now discharged from care, going from 37 days in January to 112 days in March and 217 days in April, according to ORR’s monthly averages. For children still in the agency’s company, the duration of their stays reached a peak in March with an average of 175 days in care. 

“The hurdles are vast for them,” Wroe said, noting that HHS has also changed a number of other requirements that the lawsuit doesn’t necessarily address. “But the options are to find a sponsor who can meet these new requirements or wait in custody until they turn 18.”

Five unaccompanied minors have been named in the suit alongside a handful of younger children described but otherwise unidentified. Fourteen-year-old Eduardo and his 7-year-old younger brother have been in ORR custody at a transitional foster care program in California since late January, their mother, Rosa, awaiting a decision on whether ORR will approve an exception to the new proof of income and identification requirements she was unable to fulfill. 

Another child, 17-year-old Xavier, resides in ORR custody with his 13-year-old sister, fearing that the barriers to his release the proof of income requirements have placed on their mother will result in his transfer to an adult ICE facility when he turns 18. While he has changed his sponsor and is now seeking release to his aunt, who can provide the needed income documents, his sister faces potential placement in long-term foster care should their mother fail to provide the newly required documents demonstrating proof of income.    

In each case, the lawsuit emphasizes the emotional and mental toll the detention and procedural hurdles have taken on these children.

“I talk to my mom every day on the phone from the shelter,” one child, Liam, 15, said in a sworn declaration. “If I imagine arriving at her house, and opening the door, the first thing I am going to do is hug her. I’m going to hug her for a really long time. Then I just want to talk to her, about anything. I just want to talk and be together again.”

The lawsuit asks the court to stay the effective date of the IFR, prohibit ORR from enforcing the new identification and proof of income requirements, require the agency to inform all disqualified or denied sponsors they may continue with their applications, and require ORR to consider applications filed prior to March 7 under the the requirements in place at the time. 

After granting the government's request for a time extension to reply and the plaintiffs' motion to proceed by pseudonym, the court has scheduled briefing deadlines and a potential hearing over the request for a preliminary injunction through the end of May. 

While Wroe said she’s unsure of how successful the suit may be  — or how many unaccompanied minors a single piece of litigation may be able to help — in a moment when the Trump administration’s immigration policy litigation overwhelms the nation’s courts, she said she sees the case as one avenue to healing their wounds and reuniting them with their loved ones.

“I think we want that for all children: to be able to grow up with the people who care about them and want to take care of them,” she said. “Denying their family's ability at unity — this is just a different kind of family separation, where kids are being told they have to grow up in custody instead.

Democrats won’t change until the left does

The Democratic National Committee must not continue with business as usual. The Democratic Party has failed to confront the urgency of this perilous moment for the future of the United States, as reflected in recent public opinion polls.

Repetition compulsions within the Democratic Party, including among self-described liberals and progressives, unwittingly smoothed the path for Donald Trump’s return to power. Many of the same patterns, with undue deference to party leaders and their narrow perspectives, are now hampering the potential to create real leverage against MAGA madness.

In a recent conversation with RJ Eskow of The Zero Hour, we discussed the challenges facing the Democratic Party and the need for a united front against the Trump regime. The conversation included the role of money in politics, the importance of grassroots activism and the need for the Democratic National Committee to recognize the urgency of the current political moment. This interview has been lightly edited for clarity and length.

Eskow began by asking about a recent column in which I inquired about what was preventing a united front "to restrain the wrecking ball of the Trump regime." Eskow wondered whether we really need a united front: "What’s wrong with a multi-pronged approach from various groups and actors?"

Solomon: There’s a serious lack of coordination at the political level. The Democratic Party is a constellation of 50-plus state and other local parties, and there are many organizations which are—or should be—independent of the party. To the extent there is any governing body, it's the Democratic National Committee. The DNC should provide leadership at times like these. But there’s still no leadership, several months into a second Trump regime that’s much worse than the first. There's energy to oppose, but it’s uncoordinated.

Rethinking the left — and the party

Eskow: Here’s a challenge. For too long, the American left looked to the Democratic Party for leadership and guidance instead of considering it an instrument that’s available to movements. I think a lot of people assume that “a united front” against Trump means making the left fall in line yet again behind the institutional party’s corporate, so-called “centrist” politicians.

Solomon: It’s dubious, and not very auspicious, to follow “leadership” that isn’t leading. I think your word “instrument” is an excellent one. The left should consider the Democratic Party a tool that not only can be used but, under this electoral system, must be used to stop the right and advance progressive causes. No other party can win federal elections and stop what has become a neo-fascist Republican Party. 

"The latest polling showed only 27 percent of voters had a favorable view of the Democratic Party. You would think that one or two alarm bells would go off. Maybe the 'same old, same old' isn't going to do it anymore."

Most of the people who serve as administrative or elected Democrats consider social movements subordinate to their electoral work. They see progressives—the grassroots activists, the ones with deep concerns, who do research, who communicate, who organize in local communities, who provide hope—as fuel for them to win elections.

That's backward. Campaigns and candidates should be subordinated to progressive social movements, not the other way around. That's how we win. Change doesn't come from the top. The great advances—Social Security, Medicare, Medicaid, antiwar, gay rights, civil rights, women's rights, reproductive freedom—came from people who weren’t held into check by the party apparatus. They came from the grassroots, the social movements.

Big money, big problems

Eskow: Progressives inside the party have told me how complicated it is to work within the party. Each state party has its own rules and its own representatives to the DNC, and there are also other appointed members and other centers of power. They’re up against complex machinery whenever they try to change anything.

Worse, the party allows dark money in its primaries and is heavily reliant on it in general elections. Party operatives—thousands of them, in think tanks and consulting firms and so on—depend on that money for their livelihood. 

Kamala Harris raised more money than perhaps any candidate in history. I think that money actually hurt her. It dissuaded her from saying the things she needed to say to win, whether she meant them or not.

How can a popular front incorporate and influence a party that’s dominated by big donors? Isn't that the elephant in the room?

Solomon: Well, certainly the money is huge, but we want to be realistic without being defeatists. With the state supreme court election in Wisconsin a few weeks ago, Elon Musk literally tried to buy the election and failed. That was a victory against the tide of big money. But yes, money typically correlates with victory.

I attended the DNC’s so-called Unity Reform Commission meetings in 2017, when the power of the Bernie Sanders forces was at high ebb. The party’s centrists, corporatists, and militarists felt it necessary to give the left some seats on that commission. But they kept a voting majority, which they used to kill some important reforms for transparency and financial accountability.

Jennifer O’Malley Dillon, who was then the Clinton-aligned chair, helped defeat those proposals. And what happened to her? She became deputy chief of staff in the Biden White House, then effectively ran Biden’s reelection campaign. And, after Biden belatedly pulled out and left chaos behind, suddenly Jen O’Malley Dillon was running the Harris campaign.

As you said, a lot of money was sloshing around. It’s hard to spend a billion dollars-plus in a few months and not have a lot of pockets being lined. Lots of it goes to consultants who broker deals, hire other consultants, and arrange TV advertising. They love advertising because it's easy and you don't have to relate to people. (Note: Many consultants are also paid a percentage of each ad buy.)

Meanwhile, we heard afterwards that African-American organizers in places like Philadelphia had been asking Where's our help? Where are our resources? — while TV stations in their states were filled with Harris ads.

That’s not to villainize Jen O’Malley Dillon. She's just an example. Certain people will always win. They’ll always make tons of money, no matter what happens on Election Day. 

Would the party rather lose than change?

Eskow: Let me underscore that point about insiders. I think they would all prefer winning to losing. I don't know anyone who’d rather lose. But their incentives are misaligned. There are times when, consciously or not, they feel there are worse things than losing. Take Bernie Sanders, whose policies and fundraising model threatened the Democratic ecosystem that feeds them. In a choice between winning with Bernie or losing — even to Trump — they’d rather lose. Their incentives make losing preferable to turning the party over to unruly Sanders types like — well, like you.

Solomon: I think that's a fair point. Remember, when Bernie was at high ebb in primaries, a lot of traditional Democrats on Wall Street and elsewhere were quoted as saying if Sanders is the nominee they might go with Trump.

Imagining a "popular front"

Eskow: Let's try to envision a popular— well, I call it a “popular front.” I don't think others use that term, but I think of the wartime alliance under FDR that included everyone on the left — including Communists, socialists, mainstream labor, radical labor, moderate Democrats, everyone. From the radical left to the center, people made common cause against fascism. I think there is common cause again. You can see it in the threats to the judicial system, to media independence, educational independence and other pillars of civil democracy. Those pillars were already tattered, and many are already broken, but what remains is endangered. 

How can the left build that alliance without either surrendering leadership on its ideas or being subsumed by the “Vote Blue, no matter who” rhetoric that always gives us the same failed party leadership?

Solomon: It's a challenge. To use a word that might seem jargony, we should take a dialectical approach. We should look at these contrary, sometimes seemingly contradictory realities and see them all. Fred Hampton was a great young leader of the Black Panther Party, murdered with the collusion of the FBI and Chicago police. There’s video of him saying that nothing is as important as stopping fascism because fascism is gonna stop us all. Malcolm X said that if somebody is holding a gun on you, your first job is to knock the gun out of the hand.

The right is holding a gun on you. There are neoliberals and there are outright fascists. Neoliberalism is a poison. It’s a political economy that makes the rich ever richer and immiserates everybody else, while destroying the environment and creating more and more militarism. But the fascists are holding a gun to our head.

We have an opportunity to creatively acknowledge that two truths exist simultaneously in 2025. We have a responsibility and imperative to join with others to defeat this fascistic group, which means forming a de facto united front with militarists and corporatists. And, at the same time, we need to fight militarists and corporatists.

So, there we are.

A time for left populism

Eskow: This may be blue-sky thinking, but it occurs to me that the progressive movement can display leadership and vision in forming that front, at a time when those qualities seem to be lacking elsewhere. It could build a broad alliance while simultaneously attracting people to the left’s ideas and leadership. We wouldn’t try to subordinate people to our will in this alliance, as has been done to us in the past. Instead, in this admittedly optimistic scenario, some people will be attracted by the left’s vision and leadership.

Solomon: Absolutely. One of the recent dramatic examples is AOC and Bernie going to state after state, often in deep red districts, and getting huge turnouts. In the 2016 primaries, Bernie went to the red state of West Virginia and carried every county against Hillary Clinton.

These examples undermine the mainstream media cliches about left and right because they’re about populism. It's about whether people who are upset and angry—and a lot of people in this country are—are encouraged to kick down or kick up.

The right wing — the fascists, the militarists, the super-pseudo-masculinists — they love to kick down. That's virtually their whole program: attacking immigrants, people of color, women, people who have been historically shafted. Progressives should kick up against the gazillionaires and the wealthy power brokers who hate democracy.

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Eskow: That kind of populism resonates. Expanding Social Security resonates. Healthcare for everyone resonates. It resonates among self-described conservatives, Republicans, whatever, as well as liberals and progressives. We could be saying to people, “They’re distracting you. It's not trans kids who are ripping you off and making your life so miserable. It's those guys over there.”

It’s been striking to see how passive the party was in the face of this year’s onslaught, and how passive so much of it continues to be. The right got off to a running (or crawling) start on demolishing what remains of democracy. And yet, we were flooded with Democratic operatives like James Carville, who openly use the phrase “playing possum” when describing how the party should respond. Hakeem Jeffries, minority leader of the House, said we can't do anything because we don't have the votes. Senate Minority Leader Chuck Schumer helped pass Trump’s budget.

It felt like the party leadership had wiped its hands and walked away from the catastrophe it helped create. People who want to fight Trump will also have to fight this inertia — even though many of the party’s presumptive presidential candidates are saying, no, no, I'm going to come out swinging. I'm going to be the candidate who comes out swinging against the right.

I always tell people that if they’re going to work in Democratic Party politics, they should heed the biblical injunction about the world: be in it, but not of it. And I think that activists should go where their inclinations and their talents lead them. They should follow the path that calls out to them.

Working inside the party 

But if people are called to do Democratic Party activism, what exactly does that look like, given what they’re up against? What’s the mechanism of activist involvement?


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Solomon: I think the right wing has in the last decades been much more attentive and attuned to the reality that everybody in Congress is elected from somewhere else, not DC. You wouldn't know that when you talk with a lot of the Democrats and Democratic-aligned groups there. Some people in that bubble think that's where the action is, where power is wielded. But, as you say, to the extent we have democracy and there are still some democratic structures as of now, the action is in the grassroots, in communities.

There are well over 1,000 different congressional offices. Members of the House have district offices. They are, in a nonviolent way, sitting ducks to be confronted. Voters are facing questions of life and death, whether it's healthcare or the genocidal war on Gaza that the U.S. continues to arm, or so many other concerns. We could be confronting these people in Congress when they don't do what they should be doing.

Those folks are not gods. They should be confronted. And there's often a dynamic on the left where, if Congressperson X does some things that we appreciate and a couple of things that we think are terrible, there's a tendency to say, “Well, I appreciate the good things. I don't want to be mean just because I differ on one or two things.”

The right wing rarely takes that tack. They go to the mat. They fight for exactly what they believe. That’s been successful for them — very successful. 

We have the chance to really make an impact right now. But we’re often told, “Cool your jets. You don't want to be divisive.” Bernie got a lot of that. AOC gets a lot of that. We’re told, “You don't want to be like the Tea Party from the last decade.” And the astute response is, “Oh, yeah, what a disaster. The Tea Party took over the Republican Party. That must have been just a terrible tactical measure.”

It's a way of being told to sit down and do what you're told. The right doesn't do that—maybe because, ironically, they have less respect for authority figures. We don't need deference to leaders who don't provide leadership.

Can we all just get along?

Eskow: On the right, the nastiness is directed against what was the institutional party establishment. But a lot of centrist Democrats, leaders and supporters alike, seem to get angriest at the left for bringing up certain ideas. It’s like we’re just like spitting in the punch bowl, that it's wrong and rude and who the hell do you think you are? The left has the ideas, but I also think we have to deal with a kind of professional/managerial class culture that can be quite hostile.

It feels like we have to say, “No, we're actually your friends, because a) we can help you and b) in your hearts, you want these things too. Don't be annoyed. We’re not ‘indulging ourselves’ by speaking up. We're helping.”

I struggle with that all the time. And I wonder what your thoughts are.

Solomon: That’s the corrosive culture of thinking the people in charge know best. That culture includes a substantial proportion of the Congressional Progressive Caucus. And it also happens because the financial and party pressures on elected officials are intense.

A few minutes ago I mentioned my admiration for Bernie Sanders and Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez and their anti-oligarchy tour. They've been great. But we should not erase the historical memory that, even after Joe Biden’s disastrous debate last summer and up until the day he withdrew from the race, Bernie Sanders was publicly adamant that Biden should stay in the race. AOC was adamant that Joe Biden should stay in the race.

That made no sense whatsoever. And as someone on the RootsAction team, that isn’t just hindsight. RootsAction launched the Don't Run Joe campaign at the end of 2022. You didn't have to be a rocket scientist or a political scientist to know that Joe Biden was incapable of running an effective campaign for re-election.

Eskow: We also saw the Congressional Progressive Caucus leadership endorse Biden a year before the election, if I recall correctly.

Solomon: Oh, absolutely. The chair at the time, Pramila Jayapal, endorsed him two years ahead of the 2024 election day. 

Eskow: It’s also striking what wasn't said during those two years. We heard virtually nothing about Medicare for All, which went off the political radar. We didn't hear much about expanding Social Security. Joe Biden promised to expand it in the campaign and never said another word about it.

Inside or outside

We could go on. But to me, and speaking of embracing contradictions, this speaks to the ongoing need for activists. Because here’s the ultimate irony for me about the phenomenon we've just described. Capitol Hill progressives, many of whom I respect, essentially replicated what party insiders did to them in 2015 and 2016 when they were told not to challenge Hillary Clinton. 

Solomon: Good point.

Eskow: It says to me we’ll always need outside activists pounding on the door, however annoying they may find us to be from time to time. It’s an “inside/outside” game. 

Solomon: Jim Hightower said it's the agitator that gets the dirt out in the washing machine.

Eskow: He also said there's nothing in the middle of the road except yellow lines and dead armadillos.

Call for an emergency meeting

Eskow: Let’s close with this. RootsAction has been calling for an emergency meeting of the DNC to address the crisis of fascism, or what I would join you in calling neo-fascism. What's the thinking there and what's the status of that?

Solomon: I think of a quote from James Baldwin. He said that not everything that is faced can be changed, but nothing can be changed unless it's faced. We're in an emergency, and we're getting very little from what amounts to the party’s governing body, the Democratic National Committee — even acknowledging that it is an emergency. There's pretty much a business-as-usual ambience, although the rhetoric is ramped up.

The DNC, which has 448 members, normally meets twice a year. If, in the midst of emergency year 2025, you remain committed to meeting only twice a year, you're conveying something very profound. You’re communicating that you're not operating in the real world of an emergency.

That's where we are right now. So, in partnership with Progressive Democrats of America, RootsAction has launched a petition (which people can find at RootsAction.org) urging the DNC to hold an emergency meeting. People can still sign it. And we know that the chair of the DNC, who has the power to call such a meeting, knows full well about this petition.

But right now it’s still business as usual. So, I think we need to ramp up these demands.

Eskow: And meanwhile the party is at historic levels of unpopularity. You'd think that’s one emergency they would recognize.

Solomon: One would think so. The latest polling showed only 27 percent of voters had a favorable view of the Democratic Party. You would think that one or two alarm bells would go off. Maybe the “same old, same old” isn't going to do it anymore.

The hidden elitism of RFK’s MAHA movement is making America more unhealthy

Health and Human Services Secretary Robert Kennedy has a well-documented history of lying, and so it was reasonable to believe he was lying again during his January confirmation hearing when he said he is "not anti-vaccine" and promised he wasn't going to take vaccines away. Still, it's both alarming and remarkable how swiftly he's moved to take away COVID-19 boosters that have helped millions of Americans avoid becoming seriously ill from this still-novel virus. Last week, the Food and Drug Administration announced plans to deny access to the vaccine for people under 65 without an underlying health condition. 

This fits in with Kennedy's long-standing history of eugenics-tinged notions that disease is a good thing, falsely claiming that it strengthens the gene pool, and insinuating that it makes survivors stronger. (In reality, vaccines boost overall immunity while disease often weakens it.) But the particulars of the policy also reveal something about Kennedy's reactionary class politics, which contradict his family's history of progressivism. As Josh Marshall of Talking Points Memo noted on Bluesky, "I strongly suspect you’re going to have doctors leaning forward on what constitutes a preexisting condition in this case." Which is to say, people who want the booster can get around the FDA ban by asking their doctor for a prescription.

But as many folks, including myself, immediately pointed out, forcing people to go to the doctor requires time and usually money. Previously, most people could get the vaccine, often with no copay, by breezing into a pharmacy while grocery shopping. The people who don't have the time or money to go through the onerous process of a doctor's appointment are more likely to be working class or poor. Even middle-class people who can afford a copay struggle to find the time to do so. This policy is turning what was once a 10-minute process into a half-day ordeal, if you're lucky. In effect, Kennedy isn't banning the vaccine — he's just making sure that only well-to-do people like himself have access. 


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The "Make America Healthy Again" slogan — shortened to "MAHA" — has a lot of surface appeal. Worse, Kennedy is smart about floating attention-grabbing policy ideas, like banning artificial food dyes, that are unlikely to happen but snag a lot of headlines, misleading people into thinking he's serious about improving public health. Looking away from Kennedy's empty, lie-laden rhetoric to his actions, however, and another narrative emerges: He's taking away health care, with a special emphasis on limiting access for women, minorities, children, and working people. On the latest episode of my YouTube show, "Standing Room Only," journalist Lindsay Beyerstein and I discussed how much Kennedy is taking away. 

Of course, the most prominent assault from Republicans on health care is Donald Trump's new tax bill, which aims to kick over 10 million eligible people off Medicaid. The mechanism for cheating people out of their coverage is phony "work requirements." In reality, it's a paperwork requirement that uses red tape to keep eligible people from accessing benefits. “It’s going to be creating this administrative bureaucracy and devastating amount of poor people who, despite being eligible, are going to lose coverage so that Congress can fund tax cuts for the wealthiest,” MaryBeth Musumeci of George Washington University told the Washington Post. Ironically, the people most affected will often be those who work full time, because they have the least free time to navigate the paperwork labyrinth. 

Kennedy, who grew up in a famously progressive household, surely knows this. But he cynically joined in the lie that eligible people are "cheating" the system by penning a New York Times op-ed earlier this month that falsely claimed "able-bodied adults on welfare are not working at all" and "we don’t even ask them to." Kennedy and his co-authors hope readers are picturing lazy young men who refuse to work so they can sit around playing video games. We know this because Jesse Watters rolled out the blunter form of this message on Fox News, claiming Medicaid recipients "play softball on the weekend, sell ecstasy on the side" and don't "even look for a job." As if young men don't have any need for money other than for paying their medical bills. 

But, as John Knefel at Media Matters explained, "92% of people on Medicaid are working, have a disability, or are performing duties — such as going to school or caregiving — that could qualify for an exemption from meeting work requirements." Those 92% are in danger of losing access because of the paperwork maze requirements. Of the other 8%, four out of five are women. And they aren't young or lazy. On average, they're 41 years old and were recently forced out of the workforce, often to care for family members, especially elderly ones. Most have only a high school degree or less, and their median annual income is $0. That's not a typo. This is a group of very poor women. 

This is where the GOP's traditional classism and racism meld with Kennedy's unsubtle eugenicist impulses. He speaks frequently of disabled people as if they are useless parasites. During his confirmation hearing, Kennedy said this about people with disabilities or chronic illnesses, a category which includes anyone with diabetes or asthma: "A healthy person has a thousand dreams. A sick person has only one." That was his scripted remark, and even then, he was arguing that a person with any chronic health condition, from someone in a wheelchair to someone who needs daily medication to manage depression, does not have a life worth living. Punishing for the "sin" of caring for disabled family members fits into this bleak, anti-human worldview. 

It will not make America healthy to let people die because they don't have the wealth to pay for health care out of pocket. Social Darwinism was a bad idea in the 1900s. It's even dumber now. We have decades of medical evidence showing that robust, functioning health care systems are how you improve public health. The entire history of public health research shows that the "rising tide" model isn't just more humane, but more effective than the "culling the herd" model. Sickness spreads, often directly through viruses or indirectly by depleting family resources, putting stress on people that degrades their health. Taking away health care from the people Kennedy thinks are the undeserving sick will not make others healthier. That's not even really the goal of the Medicaid cuts, which are about funding massive tax cuts for the rich. Pulling a few food dyes out of your snacks is no substitute for what Americans need, which is the health care support for all to live full and productive lives.

“Beholden to Trump”: Under DOJ investigation, Cuomo could be pressured to serve the MAGA agenda

While former Gov. Andrew Cuomo is pitching himself as the New York mayoral candidate who can stand up to President Donald Trump, the Department of Justice investigation recently opened against him, putting him in a position similar to Mayor Eric Adams and threatening his ability to govern if elected. At the same time, his political rivals say that the new investigation into Cuomo could lead to him, if elected, being manipulated into serving Trump's agenda.

Last week it was revealed that the Justice Department had launched an investigation into Cuomo for allegedly lying to Congress during its 2024 investigation into nursing home COVID deaths. The New York Times reported that the federal attorney’s office in Washington, D.C., opened the investigation about a month ago under the leadership of then-Acting U.S. Attorney Ed Martin, who has since left that position to head DOJ’s “weaponization” group.

Republicans accuse Cuomo of lying to Congress during testimony given last June concerning his alleged role in drafting a state report on nursing home deaths in 2020. In a referral to the Justice Department from last year, congressional Republicans claimed that “Mr. Cuomo made multiple criminally false statements, including that he was neither involved in the drafting nor the review” of said report.

The news of the investigation comes as Cuomo maintains a lead in New York City’s mayoral primary and shortly after Adams cut a deal with the Trump administration to have the criminal corruption charges he was facing dropped, in what was widely criticized as a deal that would give Trump policy concessions from the mayor. During the same period Trump and Adams were apparently negotiating a deal, Adams agreed to let ICE search Rikers Island for immigrants, and to deliver immigration enforcement in line with Trump's policies. Trump's border czar, Tom Homan, said on Fox News in an appearance with Adams at the time that, “If he doesn’t come through, I’ll be back in New York City, and we won’t be sitting on a couch."

“I’ll be in his office, up his butt, saying, ‘Where the hell is the agreement we came to?’” Homan said.

Manhattan federal prosecutor Danielle Sassoon resigned over Adams’ deal, calling it “a breathtaking and dangerous precedent to reward Adams’s opportunistic and shifting commitments on immigration and other policy matters with dismissal of a criminal indictment.”

With the recent revelations concerning the investigation into Cuomo, critics are drawing parallels between Trump’s leveraging a criminal indictment against Adams and the situation that Cuomo finds himself in. They're concerned that the Trump administration could leverage the investigation and any potential charges stemming from it to get Cuomo to comply with administration priorities.

Brad Lander, New York City comptroller and a candidate for mayor, told Salon that “New Yorkers cannot afford another corrupt mayor beholden to Trump — Cuomo should announce immediately that he will not seek or accept a pardon from the President.”

“Andrew Cuomo, believing he may need a pardon for committing perjury, explains his incessant kissing up to Donald Trump,” Lander said.

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While the investigation from the Trump administration may appear politically motivated, Republicans are not the only ones who allege that Cuomo worked to cover up nursing home deaths during COVID. In 2021, The New York Times revealed that that Cuomo's most senior aides rewrote portions of a state report, obscuring the total number of pandemic-related deaths and leading to an undercount.

Erica Vladimer, a victims' advocate and founding director of Harassment Free New York, told Salon that allegedly making false statements to Congress is only the tip of the iceberg in terms of what the Trump administration could use against Cuomo.

“One of the things I tend to say is that sexual harassment is the canary in the corruption coal mine. And when you have someone who is willing to harass, bully and retaliate young government staffers, you know that they're also willing to abuse their power in a multitude of ways, which we've seen with Cuomo before, when he was governor,” Vladimir said. “That is a toxic leader that is not a real leader, and not someone who is going to stand up to Trump in the way that New Yorkers are looking for in their next mayor.”

Richard Swanson, president-elect of the New York County Lawyers Association, drew out some of the ways in which Cuomo’s situation is different from the one Adams found himself in. First, Adams was facing indictment where Cuomo, at least for now, is only facing an investigation. Secondly, the charges Adams faced rested on a material exchange, whereas lying to Congress, which Cuomo is alleged to have done, is less straightforward to prove. 

“In the case of the Cuomo investigation,  the government's going to have to show intent, and in the Adams case, it was a more straightforward case of alleged graft,” Swanson said.

Swanson added that the current investigation, launched by Martin, appears more directed at embarrassing Cuomo and potentially impacting the Democratic primary, given its timing. He did say, though, that “there’s more than enough time before the election” for the government to complete its investigation. 

Rich Azzopardi, a spokesperson for Cuomo, told Salon the former governor is a victim of political persecution.

“Governor Cuomo testified truthfully to the best of his recollection about events from four years earlier, and he offered to address any follow-up questions from the Subcommittee — but from the beginning this was all transparently political.”

"We have never been informed of any such matter, so why would someone leak it now? The answer is obvious: This is lawfare and election interference plain and simple—something President Trump and his top Department of Justice officials say they are against," Azzopardi said.

These plants smell like rotten meat — Now we know how they do it

Plants are vastly intelligent in ways many people may not understand or appreciate. They have to be, since most of them move very little (if at all), so they require complex chemistry to communicate and protect themselves, often adorning themselves in bizarre garments. Some plants actually mimic animals, such as the South African beetle daisy, for example, which evolved petals that imitate dark flies resting on their flowers, thereby fooling bugs into "mating" with them.

Many plants smell "good" — to humans that is — but some go several steps in the other direction, presenting themselves to the world as dead, decaying animal flesh. Instead of bright, attractive flowers that bring the bees, they have dark, reddish blooms that stink. Like, really bad. This class of “carrion flowers” includes many species, but few are as charismatic as Rafflesia arnoldii, also known as the “stinking corpse lily,” which also holds the record as the world’s largest flower. True to its name, it reeks of festering flesh, roughly the size and appearance of an exploded tire made of weathered beef jerky. It’s also a parasite — because who needs to be free-living when you’re this fabulous?

R. arnoldii and its cousins are rivaled only by the titan arum, which has the incredible Latin name of Amorphophallus titanum, approximately translating to “giant misshapen phallus.” Indeed, it looks something like a male dog in heat, but is the size and shape of an old-school satellite dish, sometimes reaching nine feet tall. A true titan with the largest inflorescence on Earth it radiates an intoxicating perfume that has been described as a blend of dead fish, rotting cabbage and garlic.

This rare and endangered plant is endemic to the Sumatra Island of Indonesia, but is the crown jewel of many botanical centers across the globe. Its putrid smell is actually a selling point for curious visitors, but it only blooms for a few days every two or three years. When such a specimen appears ready, it triggers bloom watches and people line up around the block to get a whiff.

"Some attendees, unable to tolerate the stench, grimace and cover their noses as they approach the flower."

How and why plants evolved to stink so badly has been something of a mystery, but recent research has revealed some of their secrets and suggests why such plants aren’t just anomalies but important members of their ecosystem. Vijayasankar Raman, a botanist at the USDA Animal and Plant Health Inspection Service, was once fortunate (in his words) to study A. titanum at the University of Mississippi Medicinal Plant Garden, which featured around 21 (!) of these malodorous mammoths.

“It is quite uncommon for a botanical garden to have so many plants actively growing at the same time,” Raman told Salon by email. “I used to visualize them as intelligent giants among their kind. The botanical gardens attract thousands of visitors of all ages, eager to see the extraordinary bloom that occurs once a decade and to smell its unique odor. Many children from local schools and universities likely had their first encounter with these blooms. Some attendees, unable to tolerate the stench, grimace and cover their noses as they approach the flower.”

In a paper published in the journal Biochemical Systematics and Ecology in February, Raman and his colleagues were able to identify 66 different volatile odors coming from the plant — many of which were recorded for the first time. In the paper, they note something that sounds straight from a witch’s journal: “the strongest and most nauseating odor was observed towards midnight, attracting many flies, ants, moths and roaches.” Those don't sound like organisms that anybody actively wants to lure, but these bugs are helping to pollinate the plant. Not everything has to be roses.

Titan Arum (Amorphophallus titanum) in bloom at the United States Botanic Garden Conservatory, Nov. 20, 2005. (United States Botanic Garden)“In addition to chemical mimicry, titan arum has evolved to mimic rotting meat to the eyes of insect pollinators by having flesh-colored floral parts,” Raman and his coauthors report. “They reward the visiting insects with warmth by generating heat through thermogenesis, which also serves as a torch to attract pollinators during flowering and aids in spreading volatiles far away in the forest. Thus, the titan arum uses visual, thermal and chemical cues to exploit carrion flies and other insects for pollination.”

Unsurprisingly, the titan arum’s unsavory cocktail includes many sulfur-containing compounds, that shock-yellow element often found near volcanoes that characterizes everything from rotting eggs to bad breath. A few of the most prominent of these in A. titanum are oligosulfides like dimethyl disulfide and dimethyl trisulfide. You may not know what those chemical names mean, but you’ve definitely encountered them: they are the chemicals in decaying flesh that give that package of forgotten meat at the back of your fridge its distinct pungency. They are formed when bacteria break down amino acids containing sulfur. To put it directly, the smell of rancid meat is created by way of countless tiny bacterial farts.


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But Raman and his team found something more surprising in their analysis: fragrant, nectarous scents were present as well.

“I was astonished by the large number of chemicals produced during flowering, each with different odor properties,” Raman explained. “What perplexes me is that despite the plant being known for its stinky smell, it also produces several sweet-smelling chemicals.”

"It was somewhat unexpected to me that the mechanism behind the rotting smell of flowers are very simple."

He has two hypotheses for this: “These additional sweet-smelling compounds may serve as minor ingredients in the recipe to create the characteristic master odor; without them, achieving the specific scent that pollinators love so much might be impossible,” Raman said. Or it could be that “the plant has evolved in such a way that it has all the cards ready to successfully play the pollination game. In a scenario without carrion beetles to pollinate, at some point in the evolutionary process, the plant can still utilize different groups of ‘normal’ pollinators by simply switching and adjusting the odor mode to enhance the sweet-smelling compounds and suppress the nauseating odor compounds. This means the plant is not dependent on a particular type of pollinator to reproduce and survive successfully.”

Plants like these are more common than you might expect: such an awful-smelling blossom may, in fact, live somewhere near you. The dispersed woodlands of western Illinois, where I now live, are filled with many of the plants you’d expect: oaks, bluebells and honeysuckle. But the plants that seem the most out of place — as if they belonged in some distant jungle, not the rural Midwest — are the more fetid flowers.

Last spring, the native plant group I sometimes join went out to hunt for skunk cabbage (Symplocarpus foetidus), which looks like a maroon alien egg. Its hoodlike structure is called a spathe, which envelopes a bulb-shaped structure called the spadix, a fleshy knob dotted by dozens of tiny, petal-less yellow flowers. It’s one of the first plants to reappear in spring, breaking through the frozen ground using its unique ability to generate heat. Oh, and as the name would suggest, it can smell skunky, although I personally couldn’t detect much odor when I got on my knees and inhaled.

Skunk cabbage (Symplocarpus foetidus). (Troy Farah)More recently, the plant society went on a field trip to the Mississippi Palisades State Park, where we encountered Canadian wild ginger (Asarum canadense), a species with a flower so modest and low to the ground that I would never have noticed it if not for the botany nerds in my company. Its velvety, heart-shaped leaves shield a single burnt-mauve flower at the base, looking more like an orchid from the Florida swamps than something you’d expect to see near the river between Iowa and Illinois. It too produces a sharp odor, although it's relatively mild. To me, it was earthy and not unpleasant, but it's a dinner bell for flies and beetles, and some related species can smell more pungent.

A study published this month in the journal Science explored the exact genetic mechanisms of Asarum flowers to figure out how they pull this off, exploring the ways some plants in the genus produce dimethyl disulfide, that corpse-smell compound. Researchers surveyed 53 species and found a cluster of genes in the most rank-smelling species, and in other odoriferous plants as well. By expressing these genes in the bacteria E. coli, they pinned down the plant’s recipe, so to speak. Surprisingly, what they discovered was not an especially complex process. "[J]ust two or three amino acid changes are required for trait acquisition," they report, which helps explain "why carrion mimicry with oligosulfide volatiles is so prevalent as a form of floral mimicry.”

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“It was somewhat unexpected to me that the mechanism behind the rotting smell of flowers is very simple,” Yudai Okuyama, a biologist at the National Museum of Nature and Science in Tsukuba, Japan, and lead author of the study, told Salon.

“The corpse flower’s chemistry tells us that it is simply a clever adaptation and evolution of the plant by the seemingly simple genetic switch to tap into the otherwise largely unutilized section of pollinators,” Raman explained. This plant's self-editing genetics, he said, make it "unique and interesting." While several other plant species, "including many orchids and insectivorous plants, adapted and evolved differently to be successful by making simple genetic and behavioral changes," he continued, "the corpse flower is one of the most advanced and intelligent plants out there. It has taken biomimicry to the next, unimaginable level.”

Exploring these relationships isn’t just stink-bomb science — it helps us understand why so many plants evolved traits that may seem (to us) disgusting or counterproductive. It can shed important light on the niches these plants fill in nature, giving us a better understanding of their critical role within ecosystems. Indeed, many of these weird plants are at risk of extinction, as underscored in a report published last October examining the threats facing corpse flowers. Enduring a grueling seven-hour hike in Kalinga, India, a group of researchers came upon 30 Rafflesia banaoana plants blooming near a river. It brought Chris Thorogood, a botanist at the University of Oxford Botanic Garden and Arboretum, to tears.

“To spend time with a rare Rafflesia flower,” Thorogood said, “is the closest thing to magic.”

Grief shouldn’t be a campaign stop

Holidays — our “holy days” — are meant to meet the moment. Be joyful when it’s a day for celebration. Be solemn when it’s a day for mourning.

Some are made for celebration, like Holi or Thanksgiving, with full plates and full hearts. Others ask us to reflect: Yom Kippur, Ramadan, Ash Wednesday. And some, like Christmas or Passover, mix both to honor the sacred while gathering together.

Memorial Day was never meant to be cheery. Originally called Decoration Day, it was created in 1868 by Union Gen. John A. Logan as a nationwide day of mourning. May 30 was chosen because it didn’t mark a specific Civil War battle, just the idea of loss itself. That first observance included a speech by future President James Garfield at Arlington National Cemetery, where 5,000 people decorated the graves of 20,000 fallen soldiers.

For decades, Memorial Day honored only those lost in the Civil War. But as American wars stacked up — World War I, World War II, Korea, Vietnam, Iraq, Afghanistan — the day expanded. What began as flowers on graves became a national pause to remember every soldier who didn’t make it home.

In 1968, Congress passed the Uniform Monday Holiday Act, moving Memorial Day to the last Monday in May. It became an official federal holiday in 1971.

And it’s not “happy.”

We take the day off. We barbecue. We shop a little. But we also try — just a little — to remember. Because that’s the point. These holy days only work when we respect their meaning.

Someone should remind President Trump.

This morning, he attended a ceremony at Arlington, joined by Vice President J.D. Vance and Secretary of Defense Pete Hegseth. Flags hung like ceremonial drapes. Soldiers stood in formal tribute. It was, for a moment, appropriately somber.

And then he got online.

On Truth Social, unlike any former president, Trump shouted his Memorial Day message in all caps. He sent “HAPPY MEMORIAL DAY” greetings to the "SCUM TRYING TO DESTROY OUR COUNTRY" and others he believes are persecuting him.

Because grief, apparently, is no excuse to stay off the internet. Holy days deserve reverence. This one, especially, asks for quiet. For reflection. For gratitude.

But for this White House, even remembrance is a performance. Even mourning is a stage.

Keep calm and stay Canadian

King Charles III arrived in Canada’s capital city, Ottawa, on Monday. This is his first trip to Canada since ascending the throne, personally invited by Prime Minister Mark Carney to speak about the agenda for the new season of Parliament.

While maintaining its status as an independent country, it still falls under the United Kingdom as part of its Commonwealth. The king’s visit was ceremonial, as it usually is. But recent discussions from south of the border are on the minds of Canadians and their Head of State, King Charles III.

The speech will be given on Tuesday, but the message is clear: Canada is who it is. And maybe more importantly, who it’s not.

For months now, Donald Trump, never one for subtlety, mused that the U.S. should make Canada the 51st state. This included a call for just taking it, as he said at a campaign rally. This adds yet another moment to his archive of offhand imperial delusions.

It wasn’t the first time and probably won’t be the last, but it landed differently this time, coming as Canadians reflect on their post-monarchy identity.

While support for the monarchy is dwindling, Canadians still overwhelmingly prefer rejoining Britain as a colony than becoming the 51st state. While the idea of Canada breaking cleanly from the mother county makes the rounds every now and then, actual legislation to do so has never come close to a reality.

King Charles can’t pass legislation or tweet threats. His visit to Canada is primarily symbolic, as is the monarchy itself. But it’s still seen as a better option than statehood.

There’s historical irony here. When Canada patriated its constitution in 1982, it officially gained full legislative independence from Britain, even as it kept the monarch as head of state.

But it’s been four decades. The British king’s visit may even inadvertently help Canada remember why it no longer really needs him, just as America jokes about wanting it.

Canadian identity has long been shaped as a sort of contrast to its southern neighbor. “God Save the King” may still be the royal anthem and “O Canada!” the national anthem. But “Thank You, Next” feels more like its vibe.

The death of the summer rerun

Ask any Gen-Xer about summer reruns and you’ll get a vivid picture: catching up on the episodes they missed on the initial airing like “Must See TV” of Friends and Seinfeld, TGIF family sitcoms, that dramatic twist to Melrose Place or X-Files. There were far too many commercials and laugh tracks.

For Gen-X, reruns weren’t just filler time slots. They were cultural events. Everyone gathered around the television to watch the same show, at the same time. You planned your week around them. You talked about them at school or work the next day. Reruns gave us patience, predictability, and a shared rhythm.

It’s got its own mythos: You timed your restroom and snack breaks for those commercials. No pausing live TV. Nope, you hoped you picked the longer ad break and race back to the couch just in time for the show to come back for the next scene. Some of us got really good at jumping over furniture and pets in our rush.

Enter Gen-Z, raised in the era of streaming, only amplified by the drastic media changes during the pandemic. For them, reruns as scheduled events are basically a fairytale. TV is on demand, next-day releases, binge sessions whenever and wherever, no commercials (usually), no waiting. You watch what you want, when you want, then move on faster than a TikTok scroll. The ritual is gone, replaced by personalized algorithms recommending “just for you” reruns you didn’t know you wanted.

In trying to escape network schedules and appointment TV, we’ve traded shared experience for endless choice. The classic summer rerun, a familiar ritual, is basically extinct. Instead, reruns live in digital back catalogs, endlessly available but oddly less special.

The irony? We’re still bingeing reruns every day. Only now, they’re private, on our own devices, stripped of the communal buzz that once made reruns feel like cultural glue. The slow, shared summer ritual of rewatching is replaced by instant gratification and infinite options.

Maybe what we’re really mourning isn’t reruns themselves, but the patience and predictability they demanded. Maybe even the community it brought us. The joy of collectively waiting, of boredom that bonded us.

Still, streaming’s freedom is something to celebrate. No more waiting for primetime. No more fighting over the remote. No more missed cliffhangers.

So yes, we killed the rerun. But we streamed it anyway. And maybe that’s just fine.

What’s going on?!: 4 Non Blondes’ anthem to our frustrations speaks louder than ever

In 1993, the San Francisco band 4 Non Blondes released the single “What’s Up?” Written by vocalist Linda Perry, the laid-back alternative rock tune is about trying to make sense of our often-bewildering world — a timeless sentiment that continues to feel relevant today.

Three decades later, the song appeared in the second season of Showtime's thriller series “Yellowjackets” during an equally disorienting scene. Adult Van (Lauren Ambrose) is preparing her video store to open for the day, making a bagel and throwing out bills, when someone from her past suddenly walks through the door: a sickly Taissa (Tawny Cypress), who is plagued with sleepwalking.

The laid-back alternative rock tune is about trying to make sense of our often-bewildering world.

It’s not the single’s only recent high-profile pop culture appearance. In 2022, Billboard included it on their list of 100 greatest karaoke songs of all time. The following year, Perry strapped on an acoustic guitar and recorded a twangy duet of “What’s Up?” with Dolly Parton for the country icon’s “Rockstar” album. Parton’s vocal approach was gritty but conspiratorial, as if she was determined to answer the question posed by the song’s title. 

That same year, both the original version of “What’s Up?” and a goofy re-recorded version of the song appeared in the chaotic chase scene of the movie “Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Mutant Mayhem.” 

The absurdity is an irreverent internet meme, appearing in a video titled “Fabulous Secret Powers” (and an edit of this, the more popular “HEYYEYAAEYAAAEYAEYAA”). The company SLACKCiRCUS re-recorded a silly version of the song and then synced it to scenes from the 1980s cartoon “He-Man and the Masters of the Universe.”  (Director Jeff Rowe later noted that producer Seth Rogen suggested this cover for “Mutant Mayhem.”) 

Jamie Clayton, Toby Onwumere, Tuppence Middleton (obscured), Max Riemelt, Miguel Angel Silvestre, Tena Desae, Brian J Smith and Bae Doona in "Sense8" (Netflix)And this June marks the 10th anniversary of the premiere of the acclaimed Netflix series “Sense8,” which features one of the most iconic (and poignant) uses of the song. The show’s core characters, called “sensates,” are connected to each other emotionally even though they are physically separated — and their first true shared, collective experience comes via 4 Non Blondes’ “What’s Up?” 

The characters are in various situations as they hear the song: taking a shower, singing karaoke, having a romantic moment, riding a bus, sitting deep in contemplation. But “What’s Up?” brings them together, bridging any personality or geographical differences. Everybody involved finds solace and common ground in the song’s howling vocals and bewildered lyrics.

That we’re-in-this-together vibe is one reason for the enduring popularity of “What’s Up?” In fact, in November 2024, “What’s Up?” passed one billion streams on Spotify, while today the music video is closing in on a staggering two billion views. 

“We live in a world where ‘What the f**k is going on?’ is a constant concern and a frequent question we all find ourselves asking,” Perry said in a 2024 press release about the Spotify milestone. “We voice it in conversation amongst friends and with random people we meet that share the same frustrations. It will be heard under our breath or late nights when you can’t sleep from the political anxiety we are all facing.”

Perry initially wrote the song in the early 1990s, “based out of frustration with what was going on in the world,” she told Tape Op. “I had no money. Everything seemed hard, and desperate, and challenging. I wrote this song that seemed to fit the mood, not only for myself but for the world.”

Rock group 4 Non Blondes, Chicago, Illinois, March 3, 1993. Pictured are, from left, Roger Rocha, Christa Hillhouse, Linda Perry and Dawn Richardson (Paul Natkin/Getty Images)In a terrible coincidence, recording the song became challenging and frustrating. Perry recalls that the song’s producer, David Tickle, “wanted to ‘produce’ the song and make it fancy,” as she put it to Tape Op. “He wanted to put his leg up and piss on it.” 

Perry bristled at the version that was recorded — among other things, she disliked her vocal tone — and decided to take matters into her own hands: She booked the band a session at another studio, so they could re-record the song to her specifications. 

In a terrible coincidence, recording the song became challenging and frustrating. 

Then a studio novice, Perry worked with the engineer to cut a new version of “What’s Up?” the way she heard it — and the song was sent out to be mastered the very next day. Her creative vision paid off. “What’s Up?” reached No. 14 on the Billboard Hot 100 and reached No. 1 in multiple countries around the world. Several dance-oriented covers of the song also appeared, led by a high-energy version by the Italian artist DJ Miko that enjoyed modest club success in the U.S. (Fittingly, in Season 2 of “Sense8,” a booming house music remix of “What’s Up?” by Gabriel Mounsey appears during a rave scene.) 

Musically, the song emphasizes simplicity. Slipshod electric guitars spin like a lazy kite around strident acoustic guitars and a buoyant rhythm section. Lyrically, Perry also doesn’t overcomplicate things. “What’s Up?” starts with a lament that’s relevant to anyone feeling stuck: “Twenty-five years and my life is still/Tryin' to get up that great big hill of hope.” 

The line has a double meaning: It could be from the perspective of a 25-year-old trying to navigate adulthood — or it could be someone older realizing they’ve spent a quarter-century trying (but failing) to get ahead.

“What’s Up?” then obliquely points out the structural forces at play within this struggle: “I realized quickly when I knew I should/That the world was made up of this brotherhood of man/For whatever that means.” Call it a protective boy’s club — or garden-variety sexism — but this power imbalance impedes the narrator’s goals. 

As the song progresses, Perry’s performance grows more urgent and expressive. Her voice breaks and cracks with weariness on lines such as “Oh my God, do I try/I try all the time/In this institution,” as if the oppression might break her. But she immediately picks herself up and doesn’t give in to defeat; instead, she positively roars “I pray every single day/For revolution.”

And then from there, momentum propels the song toward the end, as Perry is galvanized by the thought of finding a better way going forward. She does her best Janis Joplin, belting out lyrics about waking up each morning and greeting the day — perhaps by getting high, perhaps by cathartic yells — and tries to find equilibrium. In the end, she doesn’t come to any conclusions, but resilience and determination have clearly defeated inertia or indifference.

Linda Perry of 4 Non Blondes performs at 2025 BottleRock Napa Valley at Napa Valley Expo on May 25, 2025 in Napa, California (Miikka Skaffari/Getty Images)In advance of 4 Non Blondes’ recent reunion shows — gigs at the Wonderfront Festival and BottleRock Napa Valley that were just their second and third shows in 30 years — Perry was reflective about what it meant to reunite the band. It’s clear she heeded her own advice — and the lessons of “What’s Up?”

“Honestly, it’s the right time in my head. It’s the right time in my heart,” she said. “I’ve been kind of putting that energy out, because I want 2025 to be my year. I want to own this year because I feel like I’ve been planting seeds all over the place and I’m watching my little trees grow.”

The ongoing popularity of “What’s Up?” certainly fits this description. After all, not every musician writes a song that continues to bear fruit and thrive so many years later. But “What’s Up?” clearly touched a nerve then and now for good reasons. During bleak times, it’s comforting to hear a song that validates you feeling overwhelmed and hopeless — and emphasizes that you aren’t alone in wanting to throw up your hands at the world. So the next time you mimic those lung-busting wails at karaoke or hear “What’s Up?” used in a movie or on TV show, you can marvel at the song’s timeless solace.

Where did summer jobs go?

Ask anyone over 35 what their summer job was, and they’ll have an answer or two. Theme parks. Restaurants. Retail stores. Local boutiques. Call centers. Lifeguard stands. Camp counselor gigs that paid in bug spray and sunburns. Once upon a time, I got my first summer job at Target, when big-box stores still trained you in folding techniques and how to survive the back-to-school rush.

That was normal. Teenagers and college students flooded the workforce when school let out. And smart managers made room for us. The good ones even let us stay on through the year, working around our class schedules.

That model? Almost extinct.

Now, it seems that many employers want full-time “entry-level” employees with open availability, long-term commitment and adult-level reliability. But without the pay or benefits to match. It’s no surprise that the first thing to go was flexibility. What student can swing a 40-hour workweek when classes resume in August?

Often restaurants and the hospitality industry, for example, still carve out space for young workers, thanks to shift-based chaos and constant turnover. But mall jobs? Grocery gigs? Local one-offs that used to train the neighborhood teens every June? Gone. Or automated. Or consolidated under scheduling apps and algorithms that often ignore anyone who can't commit year-round or full-time.

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It’s not that Gen Z doesn’t want to work. Many do. Many need to. But in a job market shaped by corporate efficiency and post-pandemic labor tightening, summer jobs no longer make economic sense for businesses or, increasingly, for the students themselves.

Instead, summer is now a strategic season. Unpaid internships. Carefully curated volunteering. Freelance side hustles. “Building a brand.” Students are still hustling, but frequently without a paycheck, a schedule or the foundational experience that comes from wrangling customers, clocking in and learning on the fly.

So when you see a teen or college kid bagging groceries or waiting tables this summer, give them some credit. They’re not just working — they’re preserving a vintage tradition.

Like landlines. Or cargo shorts. Or jobs that end when school starts.

The dessert that changed my salad game

A few weeks ago, I picked up “The Book of Greens: A Cook’s Compendium,” hoping to claw my way out of what the author, Jenn Louis, diagnosed as a “three-green rut.” I had been making predictable salads — kale, romaine, a grudging nod to cabbage — and the book, which catalogs more than forty varieties of greens, seemed like the sort of thing that might inspire transformation. At the very least, I thought I’d meet a chic new chard.

I flipped through it dutifully, flagging recipes like Grilled Cabbage with Miso and Lime, a smoothie made with radish tops and mango and something involving tomato leaves in dough — dishes that suggested a certain culinary restlessness, or possibly a home cook on the brink. But what stopped me cold was a photograph: panna cotta. 

It was a pale cream color, the texture of cappuccino foam. It wore ruby strawberries and a drizzle of olive oil like jewelry. I stared at it with reverence. 

It was, of all things, a lettuce panna cotta.

The exact opposite of what I thought I was looking for. (Also perhaps: the kind of dish you’d expect from a chef with an herb garden tattoo and a philosophy minor.) I had picked up a book about adventurous greens, only to fall for the plainest one. 

However, Louis makes a compelling case. 

“Dessert is probably the best way to wear your greens,” Louis wrote of the dish. “The herbaceousness of butter lettuce lends itself perfectly to panna cotta. There is a gentle bitterness that cottons to the fat in the cream here. Then come the strawberries and their bright sweetness. A finish of olive oil and this truly wows. Use the outer leaves for this recipe. They are often larger, and they are not as pretty on salads. The inner leaves are a bit more gentle and often don’t have quite the flavor.” 

This wasn’t just a recipe. It was doctrine: a working theory of lettuce, complete with a taxonomy of inner versus outer leaves.

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That kind of specificity? I live for it. I’ve spent entire evenings Googling ranch dressing varietals, decoding the semiotics of suburban chain restaurant menus, pondering the subtle thrill of foods that jiggle. So when Louis turned her focus on lettuce — lettuce! — and took it seriously, I felt a genuine jolt of recognition.

Here was a tiny rabbit hole of culinary nuance, and I was already halfway down.

Eventually, that rabbit hole left me with two questions. Had I been underestimating greens in desserts? And more fundamentally: What does lettuce actually taste like?

In the weeks since, I’ve been living a kind of lettuce double life.  By day, I’ve been researching lettuce-based desserts like it’s a final project. By night, I’m tasting lettuce like someone meeting it for the very first time. At the grocery store, I linger in the produce section with the reverence of a botanist on sabbatical, basket brimming with romaine, iceberg, butter — anything leafy and remotely flirty. I pinch, sniff, nibble and nod like a sommelier of chlorophyll.

Lettuce being washed (Getty Images/ Maartje van Caspel)I’ll be honest: none of the greens-based desserts I found — watercress granita, radicchio brûlée — quite captured my imagination like the panna cotta. A spiced lettuce cake caught my eye for a moment, mostly because the author made a fair point: If we’ve accepted zucchini bread and carrot cake into the canon, why not lettuce? But in the end, I couldn’t quite get past the idea of a quarter-head of warm, shredded iceberg tucked into my cake bars. There are gentler ways to chase that texture.

Still, I came away with some notes:

Romaine opens with a crisp, faint sweetness and a clean green bite, anchored by the sturdy heft of its ribbed leaves. The heart softens — snappy, almost refreshing — like the green cousin of a cucumber spritz. Iceberg barely registers as flavor, but its crunch delivers deep satisfaction, especially the white core, which, when fresh, pops with subtle moisture like vegetal Pop Rocks.

Butter lettuce is the soft one, silky and a little floral, with a quiet nuttiness near the center that sneaks up on you like a secret whispered in a sunlit kitchen. And Louis was right: it’s the one that belongs in desserts. One slow weekend, deep into my lettuce spiral, I made the panna cotta. The butter lettuce brought something unexpected, a flavor gently tea-like, just a whisper of grass, with a bitterness like almond skin. It curled into the cream as if it had read the invite wrong, but everyone was too charmed to mind.

Drying lettuce (Getty Images/ Maartje van Caspel)Now I can’t stop thinking about it. I’ve developed a new dream for the summer: a butter lettuce cheesecake. Lemon zest for brightness, a buttery shortbread crust to hold it all together without overpowering the green. Maybe crushed pistachios for some extra verdance, maybe a loose pouf of whipped cream. I want a dessert that barely registers as sweet. One that lingers like a scent you can’t place, but don’t want to stop breathing in.

If it turns out, I might even share the recipe. Who knows. Maybe we’ll have a few more greens-for-dessert believers by summer’s end.

It’s funny. This whole thing started because I was bored of salad. But somewhere along the way, I found myself undone by a leaf. Lettuce, of all things. So familiar it had nearly vanished into the background. But when I actually stopped to taste it — really taste it — it felt like something quietly opened up. Turns out, lettuce isn’t just lettuce. Sometimes, it’s a way back to wonder.

“The Last of Us” finale tests the limits of our empathy

Television is a vehicle built for vicarious experiences, a medium fueled by feeling and thus prone to engaging in manipulation. Some of us are unashamedly expressive about everything, welcoming catharsis in all its forms. But most of us demand that shows earn our heightened reactions with evident arguments.

If the closing moments of “The Last of Us” second season finale left you feeling a little unsteady, if not confused or betrayed, you are not alone. Gamers who survived “The Last of Us II” felt a lot like that when they virtually lived and died as the game’s hero, Joel, only to be blindsided by the creators’ choice to make them play his killer.

Epic entertainment chiaroscuros are often dull and unrealistic, hence the push in recent decades to test and reshape our definition of virtue. What is great television if not an accurate imitation of life?

Season 2 follows the events of the game’s 2020 sequel, “The Last of Us II,” retraining its focus on empathy and our Wild West cinematic notions of justice. Right now, the latter seems more natural to us than the former.

Neil Druckmann applies the same philosophy to the games he co-created, which are less concerned with tricks and codes than melding our emotional mainframe to those of Joel and Ellie. The first game leaves players in a cloud of moral ambiguity, similar to the first season’s jarring cut to the credits the moment Joel (Pedro Pascal) gravely lies to his surrogate daughter Ellie (Bella Ramsey).

Viewers know the truth. When Joel finds out that to create a cure, the plague-immune Ellie would have to die, he murders nearly every staff member in the hospital where she was being prepped, all to save her instead of humanity. That’s an ugly story, so Joel concocts a more palatable one that he falsely swears is the truth.

Season 2 follows the events of the game’s 2020 sequel, “The Last of Us II,” retraining its focus on empathy and our Wild West cinematic notions of justice. Right now, the latter seems more natural to us than the former. Far-right conservatives have taken a hard turn against empathy, with Christian Nationalists declaring it to be more sinful than righteous.

Jeffrey Wright in "The Last of Us" (Liane Hentscher/HBO). In February, New York Times columnist David French examined the way this phenomenon has bled into politics, with right-wing podcasters like Allie Beth Stuckey aligning empathy to a supposed toxic progressivism seeking to sway evangelicals.

“For example,” French wrote, “if people respond to the foreign aid shutdown and the stop-work orders by talking about how children might suffer or die, then they’re exhibiting toxic empathy.”

Around the same time, Elon Musk declared, “The fundamental weakness of Western civilization is empathy.” The extent of Musk’s influence is the subject of intense debate, but he said this on “The Joe Rogan Experience,” which has enormous reach with the 18-to-34 demographic, the primary gaming market. Rogan didn’t refute that.

“There's so much empathy that you actually suicide yourself,” Musk adds, concluding, “We've got civilizational suicidal empathy going on.”

In the world of “The Last of Us,” the last decade’s version of cruel politics never comes to fruition. Druckmann probably didn’t foresee a push to reconsider this human virtue as a poison in 2013, when the original game was released. By the time its sequel came out, it’s possible he did; “Part II” was announced in 2016.  

Regardless, Druckmann’s decision to drop gamers into the skin of Abby Anderson, Joel’s murderer (played in the series by Kaitlyn Dever), could never avoid polarizing players. Genre geeks love stories that dance in foggy moral swamps, but in choosing a character through which to express our power fantasies, we prefer to be clear about the side we’re taking. Joel is an imperfect figure, but we’re moved to bond with him and agree with Ellie that he didn’t deserve to die.

Asking players to realize that Abby’s reasons for killing him follows one of the oldest laws known to humankind, replacing an eye for an eye with a father’s life for a father, is difficult and a bit revolutionary.

Kaitlyn Dever in "The Last of Us" (Liane Hentscher/HBO). Druckmann and Craig Mazin’s adaptation takes us on a similar but not quite identical journey to the game, which doesn’t reveal Abby’s motivation for hunting and killing Joel until late in the action. The second season premiere lays Abby’s reasons on the table straightaway when Dever’s ex-Firefly character tearfully vows to make Joel, her father’s executioner, pay for that killing with interest.

This is what Druckmann and Mazin want us to ponder: Which side is “bad,” and whose cause is “just”?

When she fulfills that mission, we join Ellie in hating her.

Then we pull for Ellie and Dina (Isabela Merced) when they defy the decision of Jackson, Wyoming’s leadership council and strike out for Seattle, Abby’s last known location, on their own.

Once Ellie and Dina stumble across a cluster of massacred men, women and children in a Washington state forest, the righteousness of their mission grows clearer. Finding out that Abby’s militant group is called the Wolves, based on their acronym for the Washington Liberation Front, helps to further dehumanize them.

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Ellie and Dina witness WLF soldiers corner and cart off a boy dressed similarly to the dead people in the forest, which all but settles it. These are evil people. Plus, Dina and Ellie are outnumbered and outgunned – all the better, since everyone loves underdogs.

And yet, long before the second season finale — written by Druckmann, Mazin, and Halley Gross, the 2020 game’s narrative lead and co-writer — "The Last of Us" introduces several scenes that make us question that conclusion. One is the origin story of Jeffrey Wright’s Isaac Dixon, a former FEDRA cop who turns on his unit to join the supposed freedom fighters who become the WLF.

Our first indication that he might not be like the other goons with badges is shown in his expository flashback. We see Isaac scowl at another cop who is gleefully telling a story about knocking out the teeth of an unarmed protester he disparagingly refers to as a Voter. (It’s an insult, you see, because the feds took away the people’s right to vote after the society collapsed.)

Jumping to the storyline’s present, we watch Isaac torturing one of the religious zealots the Wolves are warring against, known as Seraphites or Scars, by searing the man’s skin with a scorching-hot saucepan. This happens before Ellie has her own run-in with members of the cult, who grab Ellie and come close to hanging and vivisecting her before she can explain that she’s not a threat. Maybe, then, Isaac’s cruelty isn’t entirely baseless, if you believe torture is ever justifiable.

Young Mazino in "The Last of Us" (Liane Hentscher/HBO). This is what Druckmann and Mazin want us to ponder: Which side is “bad,” and whose cause is “just”? The lines blur further when Ellie’s retribution tour claims the lives of bystanders – some innocent, others less so — before she lays eyes on Abby again.

In a previous episode, Dina reveals to Ellie that she loves her and that she’s pregnant with the child of her ex-boyfriend Jesse (Young Mazino). Then Jesse surprises the pair by showing up in Seattle with Joel’s brother Tommy (Gabriel Luna), just in time to save them from a run that goes sideways when Dina is shot by someone wielding a crossbow.

The finale opens in their theater hideout with Jesse removing the crossbow bolt from Dina's thigh, during which she refuses to drink whiskey to dull the pain. 

Once Ellie returns from torturing Nora to get Abby's location, Jesse reveals that Tommy is roaming Seattle on his own and recruits Ellie to help find him. As they track Tommy, Jesse also lets Ellie know he's figured out that Dina, the woman who has never turned down a drink in her life, is pregnant. This makes him more furious at Ellie than he already was. But Jesse soon realizes Ellie can't be deterred from her hunt, and he leaves her to look for Abby.

While being tortured, Nora would only say the words "wheel" and "whale," but it was enough for Ellie to figure out that Abby is hiding inside the Seattle Aquarium, which is close to a Ferris wheel.   

Ellie charges through sheets of rain and commandeers a boat into the choppy waters of Elliott Bay, washing up on a local island's shore to be captured and nearly killed by Seraphites. She escapes and finally makes it to Abby's base, only to find Abby's friends Owen (Spencer Lord) and Mel (Ariela Barer) there instead. Ellie shoots Owen, but a bullet also nicks Mel in the neck, opening an artery. It gets worse. Moments before she expires, Mel reveals to Ellie that she's pregnant and begs Ellie to cut the baby out of her. Ellie is so distraught that she can't bring herself to touch her blade to Mel's skin.

Tommy and Jesse find Ellie at the aquarium and bring her back to the theater, where Dina is waiting. After speaking with Tommy, Ellie decides to abandon her blood feud and return to Jackson. But it’s too late.

Abby storms their hideout, shoots Jesse in the head when he runs into the fray, and is moments from killing Tommy when Ellie finally surrenders to her. Abby recognizes Ellie as the murder witness whom she allowed to live — and a shot rings out before the scene cuts to black. Then the story rewinds to three days earlier, where we see Abby in a WLF bunker waking from a nap. In that moment, she has no idea who Ellie is, or that in a few days her closest friends will be dead. But we know that we'll be following Abby's story during the upcoming season.

There aren’t many series that rip out our hearts only to reveal an intent to help us better understand our assailant’s motivations. That's the combined blessing and curse of “The Last of Us,” both as a game and a TV drama. Some players think of it more as an interactive movie, which speaks to a prominent problem in shows and movies adapted from extensively scripted games. If the appeal is in controlling a character as they move through a story, where is the value in a more passive version of the story retracing the same steps without much deviation?

Bella Ramsey in "The Last of Us" (Liane Hentscher/HBO), I’d counter by pointing to the past hints that Mazin and Druckmann dropped about the emotional terrain through which they intended to lead us. “Long, Long Time,” the series’ third episode, was that first signpost.

That free-standing, emotionally stirring installment allowed us to bask in the gorgeous, too-short romance shared by Bill (Nick Offerman) and Frank (Murray Bartlett). Bill and Frank's story isn't shown in the game. Nor is it necessary for Joel and Ellie’s journey, beyond demonstrating why our reasons for living aren’t always practical but are often necessary, even in an apocalypse.

There aren’t many series that rip out our hearts only to reveal an intent to help us better understand our assailant’s motivations.

Without their love story, we might never have seen Bill as anything other than a belligerent survivalist and eternal curmudgeon Joel knew him to be. But through Frank’s eyes, we come to understand Bill’s humanity. Sympathizing with easy-to-love characters is unchallenging, which makes the second season finale’s promised perspective shift enticing and potentially hate-watchable.

Maybe not, though. Consider, for example, the way “Black Panther” made Michael B. Jordan’s Erik Killmonger as enthralling as he was despicable by showing us that he wasn’t born evil. The hero’s actions turned him towards it.

But “Black Panther” invites the audience inside its anti-hero’s origin story for a few minutes, whereas “The Last of Us” proposes we walk with Abby, not Ellie, for a portion of the third season — if not the whole thing. We can’t know whether this narrative reset will align with our expanding rejection of empathy or push against that coldness.  


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“The Last of Us” never lets us forget that Joel, Ellie and Abby are human. We’re acutely reminded of that whenever they – and by digital extension, we — die.

Joel and Ellie respawn infinitely, but the game makes us feel every single snuffing instead of pausing before the action gets grisly. If an explosion catches Joel on fire, his screams are audible long after the screen cuts to black. If a cannibalistic grifter catches little Ellie, you see his machete blade impale her.

We want to save them because that’s the game’s mission and because we spend hours, days, and sometimes weeks navigating them through and past mortal threats. Druckmann has said in a recent interview with The Atlantic that the first game “is about the unconditional love a parent has for a child.” The second anchors itself in all the ways, reciprocating that love can be misdirected and weaponized.

Ellie’s assassination run nearly drowns her and compromises her soul, and everything that leads up to that costly confrontation with Abby is the result of a lack of empathy. Revenge has destroyed the world as our heroes once knew it. Maybe stepping into someone else’s is the cure we didn’t realize we needed.

All episodes of "The Last of Us" are streaming on HBO Max.

Kermit speaks. Are we listening?

On May, 22, 2025, at Jim Henson's alma mater, the University of Maryland, a familiar green frog urged the 2025 graduates to embrace kindness, curiosity, and community. He closed his speech by inviting the crowd to join him in singing “The Rainbow Connection,” turning the ceremony into a rare moment of shared hope.

This year also marks the Muppets’ 70th anniversary, a legacy rooted in creativity, empathy, and the power of public media to educate and unite. Yet, as Kermit celebrated this milestone, public broadcasting faces threats from politicians pushing to cut funding for PBS and Sesame Workshop, the very institutions that brought us Big Bird, Elmo and Kermit himself.

The public reaction was immediate: “Don’t take my Muppets!” It’s a reminder that these beloved figures exist because of public backing. Most people grew up watching the Muppets. It was a key part of their childhood.

More than puppets, the Muppets symbolize a world where imagination meets compassion. They have inspired generations to be brave, curious and caring. These values feel increasingly urgent.

As the Muppets turn 70, the question remains: if we truly value what they represent, why undermine the programs that keep them alive? Kermit’s speech wasn’t just for graduates. It was a call to all of us. In a culture war where much is at stake, kindness and curiosity should not be casualties.

As Kermit reminded us all: “Jim [Henson] believed that everyone had a place.”

The privatization of media and the death of public interest

In February, Common Cause ran an ad in The Washington Post criticizing Elon Musk’s outsized role in the Trump administration. As a “special government employee,” Musk was empowered to illegally fire millions and fundamentally reshape the federal government. Our editorial posed an obvious question: Who is in charge of our country? The weekend before the ad was set to print, the billionaire-owned paper backtracked and pulled it from publication at the last minute, a move that raised concerns about free speech and the ability of institutional media to hold power — and billionaires — to account. 

A free press is critical to our democracy, and we must do everything in our power to preserve it. But what happens when billionaires and megarich corporations own and operate most channels of communication and information sharing? Americans are finding out in real time.  

Before pulling out of the “Fire Elon Musk” advertisement, Amazon founder and Washington Post owner Jeff Bezos axed the paper’s planned endorsement of Kamala Harris. The Los Angeles Times followed suit. More recently, The Washington Post pulled a Pulitzer Prize-winning cartoonist’s work when it mocked media and tech titans groveling at the feet of President Donald Trump. On the nose, much? 

These capitulations by the traditional pillars of our free press have further enabled the new administration to attack our media. When the Associated Press refused to acknowledge the “Gulf of America,” they were blocked from the White House briefing room for weeks. When Amber Ruffin, host of CNN’s “Have I Got News for You” and comedian MC at this year’s White House Correspondents Dinner, indicated she’d poke fun at President Trump, she was fired from the event. Now, not even six months into this new administration, President Trump has signed an executive order to defund PBS and NPR, a direct attack on fact-based and free public media. 

Trump’s pressure and intimidation of the media hasn’t stopped. Most recently, Wendy McMahon, president of CBS News, resigned amidst pressure from President Trump, CBS and its parent company, Paramount. McMahon isn’t the only one who was recently threatened for merely alerting the public to the administration’s questionable actions. ABC News is now under fire for its coverage of the luxury jet from Qatar – another instance of Trump targeting media outlets for exposing questionable actions by his administration.

At the community level, local news has been dying over the last decade, leaving behind news deserts nationwide. From traditional, smaller print outlets unable to keep up in the digital age to hedge funds systemically buying out and gutting local papers, communities are being robbed of their access to timely updates and honest reporting on their local governments. Public broadcasting organizations like PBS and NPR have been filling the void for millions of Americans who keep up with the news from their local public broadcasting stations.

Our social media platforms aren’t safe either, with billionaires — often big political donors — owning and controlling the ways our information spreads online. When oligarchs with vested interests in certain agendas control the channels of communication, they have power over what we say, what we see and, by extension, what constitutes truth. 

On January 6, Meta, which owns Facebook and Instagram, announced that it was ending fact-checking on its platforms – a program that was proven to be “effective at reducing belief in falsehoods and reducing how often such content is shared.” Facebook also recently paid Trump $25 million to settle an old lawsuit stemming from its decision to ban Trump’s accounts after the January 6 insurrection.  

A few weeks later, Google said it wouldn’t integrate fact-checking into its search engine or YouTube. As these new rules went into effect, the leaders of these very tech companies had front row seats to President Trump’s inauguration. Major tech companies, including their CEOs, each donated $1 million to the Trump inauguration fund. 

How can public interest prevail on platforms and in outlets that are privately owned? Much like the hedge funds that have gutted local news, special interests and unelected CEOs want to dismantle pillars of our democracy and sell its parts to the highest bidder at the expense of the people.  

Since 2010, Americans have seen big money exponentially poison our politics with the Supreme Court’s Citizens United ruling that opened the floodgates to unlimited political spending by corporations and special interests. It’s clear that money doesn’t just buy a seat at the table anymore — it buys every seat, the table and the entire White House, too.  

The 2024 elections were a testament to this, standing as the costliest election in American history, with nearly $16 billion spent nationwide and an additional $5 billion coming from outside sources. The top five mega-donors each donated more than $100 million to influence the elections. 

It’s true that democracy dies in darkness. It also withers behind a paywall, is manipulated by social media algorithms and hollowed out by covert corporate consolidation. The shadow cast by self-interested billionaires grows larger by the day, muzzling any truth that conflicts with their bottom line. But that isn’t the end of the story.   

Organizations like Common Cause and the Southern Poverty Law Center are committed to cutting a different path by shining a light through the darkness. From helping everyday people make their voices heard and offering local solutions that empower small-dollar donors, to removing the financial barriers stopping regular people from running for office, increasing government transparency and preserving the local media ecosystem, we can and will continue to hold power to account.

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Memories for sale

Every May, the headlines are the same: “Memorial Day Sale: Everything Must Go!” “Freedom Deals!” “Honor the Fallen with 30% Off.” Across the country, retailers treat Memorial Day like a second Black Friday. For many Americans, it’s a weekend of beach trips, barbecues and big savings.

But pause for a second. Memorial Day was created to honor U.S. military personnel who died in service to their country. It’s meant to be a day of reflection and collective mourning — a moment, at least one, to acknowledge that the freedoms we enjoy came at an unthinkable cost.

Summer traditionally falls between Memorial Day and Labor Day. With the school year ending in mere days, it’s normal to want and celebrate a long weekend. We need breaks. We crave joy. But there’s a reason for the day off, and it’s worth remembering.

The commercialization of holidays isn’t new. We’ve turned everything from Christmas to Martin Luther King Jr. Day into sales opportunities. But something about Memorial Day feels different. It asks us to sit with grief. To recognize that real lives, often young ones, were cut short in war. There’s a weight to that. Or at least, there should be.

This isn’t about guilt-tripping anyone out of a well-deserved day off. Rest is part of what those soldiers fought for. But it’s worth asking: What are we remembering, if anything, when we fire up the grill or click "add to cart"?

Some veterans and Gold Star families have spoken out, calling the sales and slogans tone-deaf or disrespectful. Others say it doesn’t bother them, as long as people take a moment to reflect on what the day means.

Maybe that’s the key. Memorial Day doesn’t have to be stripped of joy or rest. But maybe it shouldn’t be stripped of meaning either.

As you soak up the sun, hunt for discounts or gather with loved ones, pause to remember the reason this weekend exists. For some families, there's an empty seat at the table. Someone who should be here — but isn’t.

How America got so weird: The Pilgrims made us do it

Jane Borden's "Cults Like Us: Why Doomsday Thinking Drives America" develops a simple thesis: The English Pilgrims who famously landed at Plymouth Rock were essentially a doomsday cult — even if they lacked a charismatic leader — and together with the Puritans who followed them passed on seven key elements of belief that have shaped America ever since. Even as some aspects of their beliefs have faded, these key elements survive in multiple different forms and settings, from pop culture to multilevel marketing schemes and a wide range of spiritual practices and beliefs that migh otherwise seem to have little in common. 

There are more complex ideas behind this thesis, as Borden draws on a wide range of insightful research, lending nuance and depth to her argument. But her basic argument is so clear and compelling, one can only wonder that it wasn’t made before. 

Even movements led by feminists and Black separatists resonate with the same constellation of beliefs, as Borden demonstrates with harrowing examples. But it’s not the exotic extremes that should concern us most, she argues, but rather the fact that the patterns she traces can be found almost everywhere in our culture.

Any one of Borden's fascinating chapters could warrant an interview in itself. But I felt it was most important to highlight the range of Puritan credos she discusses, which best convey the full power of her argument. I reached out to ask specifically about those. This interview has been edited for clarity and length.

You begin your book with a brief description of the Pilgrims as a doomsday cult, and go on to say, "We’ve been iterating on its prototype since. We can’t stop re-creating our first trauma," although it remains "largely unacknowledged." What led you to see the Pilgrims as America's foundational cult?

 Well, around 2018 I became very preoccupied by the division in our nation, the cultural and political division. I'd been reporting on cults at the time, and I knew that cults feed off division and that division is fueled by cults in turn. I started to see cultic thinking in America everywhere in pop culture, entertainment and politics, and I just started pulling on the thread. How long have we had this knee-jerk anti-intellectualism? Why are we so obsessed with the illusion of perfection? I just kept pulling that thread and it took me all the way back to the 1620s and 1630s.

You write that you find seven of the Puritan credos "to be most pervasive and problematic" and you devote a chapter to each. The first one is about "our innate desire for a strongman to fix our problems and punish those who aggrieve us." You discuss the findings of the 1977 book, "The American Monomyth" by Robert Jewett and John Shelton Lawrence. What did they mean by a "monomyth"?

"How long have we had this knee-jerk anti-intellectualism? Why are we so obsessed with the illusion of perfection? I just kept pulling on that thread and it took me all the way back to the 1620s."

Jewett and Lawrence were trying to figure out how Americans could possibly stomach the incredible violence of the Vietnam War, which was coming into their living rooms for the first time. They found something hiding in plain sight, a narrative in American pop culture that they named the American monomyth. It goes something like this: A small Edenic community is under threat and unable to save itself. The police are inept. The politicians are corrupt. What are they going to do? Then suddenly out of nowhere appears this outsider, or sometimes this loner from within the community. This person saves the community through violence.

It's always violence, and it's precise violence. There are no innocent casualties. Only the bad guys die, and therefore it's cleansing violence. It's righteous. This narrative is most common in superhero genres, Western genres, we see it in vigilante films, disaster films and doomsday films, but it's even more pervasive than that. 

I believe ultimately it comes from the Book of Revelation. It's a story of divine rescue, which is what apocalyptic narratives often are, and the Book of Revelation is in particular. The Puritans were obsessed with that story; they couldn't get enough. They retold it in a dozen different ways, and it's still very much with us. 

Three movies came out just last month that follow this American monomyth: "The Amateur," "The Accountant 2" and "A Working Man."

So the second credo concerns "the temptation to feel chosen, which justifies acting on our base desires." You begin with John Humphrey Noyes, founder of the Oneida Community, a utopian religious group in the mid-19th century. How did that differ from the Pilgrims and the Puritans, and how did it continue a main thrust of their thinking?  

The commonalities were basically this idea that perfection is achievable, that we can reach God in that way. I would say it's paternalism, the idea that the leaders know what's best for everyone else and therefore can act for everyone else, and the idea of being a chosen people, of exceptionalism.  

"The classic American conspiracy theory always has an evil leader or group of leaders who are unfathomably powerful. These evildoers are brainiacs, they're incredibly intelligent, but they use that intelligence to prey on more simpleminded folk who are virtuous."

But by the time the Oneidans came around, the culture had changed. There was no longer the belief in predestination, the idea that God has already chosen who will and won't be saved and there's nothing you can do about it. Instead, they thought the story of Revelation was maybe a little more allegorical, and actually humans are moving toward New Jerusalem ourselves. God wants us to help get there, and we have the ability to do so. New Jerusalem itself became somewhat more allegorical, no longer a literal city that would descend from the sky, but just the idea of living in perfection with God. 

So things had changed a bit, but the main foundational thrusts for the same. Noyes believed he had himself become perfect, meaning free of sin, and he declared one day that their community was heaven on earth. They had achieved it. They'd gotten there, and everyone else could, too. All you had to do was be sin-free, and of course he had various ways he thought he could get there, one of which was through having lots of sex.

Third is "knee-jerk anti-authoritarianism and anti-intellectualism." In this chapter, you describe cults and conspiracy theories as "kissing cousins," noting that America has its own favorite flavor of conspiracy theory, with three key ingredients.

The classic American conspiracy theory always has an evil leader or group of leaders behind it, who are unfathomably powerful, typically world leaders. That comes from the story of the Antichrist. The second characteristic is that these evildoers are brainiacs, they're incredibly intelligent. They use that intelligence — which is part of what corrupted them — to prey on more simpleminded folk who are virtuous. That anti-intellectual tradition is still with us, of course, and traces back to the Puritans' culture of the simple. They lionized simplicity of manner and thought. The third element is that there's something we can do about it, gosh darn it. That's the rebellious American streak. I could give you a very long-winded response to that, but I think the shortest way to say is that the word "protest" is in the word "Protestant." 

Fourth is "our impulse to buy and sell salvation on the open market." Here you discuss the New Age leader John-Roger and his Movement of Spiritual Inner Awareness as a prime example of group awareness trainings, whose popularity peaked in the 1970s and '80s. How did they relate to earlier examples, and what can we learn from their evolution?

Our Puritan forebears believed in the possibility of becoming perfect and one with God. New Jerusalem, they believed, was quite literal. Later, the idea became more allegorical. In the 1970s, we see the idea of New Jerusalem becoming an inner state. New Jerusalem moves into the mind. People believed that instead of reaching perfection as a community of chosen, as members of the true church, an individual could achieve perfection, specifically through self-investigation and self-improvement. 

As a side note, the Puritans were also obsessed with self-investigation. They literally made themselves sick with the practice. They were mostly self-investigating by trying to figure out whether or not they were chosen, whether or not they could be a member of the church. They believed no one knew who was and wasn't chosen, but they were pretty sure they were, and that they could find out if they just looked within. So these trials of self-investigation have always been with us and self-help is now a $5 billion industry. It isn't helping. We're less happy now than we've ever been.

The fifth Puritan credo that’s still with us is "hard work is holy, while idleness is a sin." Here you discuss Amway specifically and multi-level marketing in general. How do these organizations reflect this belief and reveal its destructiveness?

The Puritans believed the way to worship God was to work. On the other hand, they also believed that if your neighbor was in need you should give to your neighbor, whether or not you thought you'd get the money back. So I think the Puritans would be very upset with the current state of late-stage capitalism. They'd be very critical of late-stage capitalism and multilevel marketing, which I see as more or less the same thing at this point. 

"In the 1970s, we see the idea of New Jerusalem becoming an inner state. It moves into the mind. Instead of reaching perfection as a community of the chosen, an individual can achieve perfection through self-investigation and self-improvement."

Over time, this idea that work is holy became a justification for acquisitiveness. Because if you're working a lot to show how much you love God, you're naturally going to accrue wealth. Isn't that wealth just a sign also that God loves you in turn? And if that's true, wouldn't it also be true that those who don't have money are not loved by God, or are not working enough to worship God? So we begin to conflate the number in a person's bank account with their moral character. Particularly during the Gilded Age, you see a lot of rhetoric around sinners deserving their poverty. Why help them? It's their own wrong thought that's led them to the almshouse. 

We still see some of that today. A few weeks ago, I saw a GOP congressman on Fox News saying, "You gotta put down the medical marijuana, put down the Cheetos. You have to get up off the couch and work now if you want SNAP benefits." It's the idea that it's the fault of the poor that they're poor. If that's true, if they're sinners, then why help them? Sin should be punished. 

The flipside of that is this idea that the wealthy deserve what they have. John D. Rockefeller was known for saying that he got his money from God. I would argue we tend to worship the wealthy in this country, where there's the cult of the self-made man, this idea that if someone is wealthy, they did it all on their own, without the backing of government subsidies that are usually happening behind the scenes or generational wealth or whatever other support systems go unacknowledged. 

How is that reflected in multilevel marketing?

With multilevel marketing, what we see is people at the top making a lot of money, because it's a pyramid scheme, it's a wealth redistribution system, and claiming that they got all their money through hard work. In reality, the money was taken from the recruits at the bottom of the pyramid, who are told, "Look at us! Look at all this wealth! If you don't have it, well that must be your fault. You're not working hard enough, or you're not following the plan." These people internalize that shame and keep trying, they keep spending money making people at the top rich. Eventually they burn out and leave, and they don't tell anyone about their experiences because they're ashamed. That's how the system perpetuates itself. 

I believe there are some really upsetting commonalities with late-stage capitalism — and I'm reluctant to use the word capitalism, because capitalism is great. Adam Smith was a cool dude who had great ideas. What's happening now is something very different. People use the phrase "late-stage capitalism," so I will too, for lack of a better one. 

But I want to give you some stats. Between 1975 and 2020, $15 trillion have moved from the bottom 90 percent of Americans to the top 1 percent. This is exactly what happens in MLMs — money moves from the bottom to the top. The wealthiest 1 percent of Americans own about the same amount as the bottom 90 percent combined. Those numbers are nauseatingly similar to a typical MLM, in which the top 1 percent makes the same as the bottom 94 percent. 

"Between 1975 and 2020, $15 trillion has moved from the bottom 90 percent of Americans to the top 1 percent. This is exactly what happens in multilevel marketing schemes — money moves from the bottom to the top."

I believe the American dream has become a pyramid scheme. I don't think it was always that way. I think the American dream used to be realizable by a huge and booming middle class, and that's been pilfered. We see this in a variety of ways — lobbying for tax breaks and removing regulations for risky behavior, moving manufacturing overseas. All these things that facilitated the redistribution of wealth occur, in my opinion, because of this doctrine that work is holy and therefore wealth is a sign of being chosen and poverty is a sign or sin. 

Sixth is "how quickly and easily we fall into us-versus-them thinking." But this chapter seems to get at the underlying dynamic behind the whole book: That thinking has origins in our evolutionary past, but our cultural evolution has produced a distinctive Western mindset, expressed most fully in America, which is in tension with that past, and the inclination to join cults reflects a reaction to that. I think that sums it up, but I'd like to hear you elaborate on that.

First of all, thank you for noticing that and getting it. There's a lot to unpack there. We could probably do a full article just on that. But the first thing to acknowledge is that cults increase — both participation in individual cults and cult-like thinking at a societal level — during times of crisis. Times of technological upheaval, social upheaval, general crisis, natural disasters, all these things that cause someone's world to wobble and shift can lead us to cult-like thinking. 

That's in part because cult-like thinking offers a very ordered world. There's a hierarchy, everyone plays a role, there are a lot of rules and boundaries. What people don't often realize is that they're ultimately ceding control to the leader, who 99 percent of the time is going to exploit them. That's also happening at the societal level. When cult-like thinking is being utilized, it's usually by a demagogue who's just trying to activate people to behave in a way that benefits the person pushing our buttons.

To get back to the kind of cultural evolution that I cited in the book, I gleaned this from the work of anthropologist Joseph Henrich and his team at Harvard. They basically discovered something that they called "WEIRD society," where WEIRD is an acronym: Western, educated, industrialized, rich and democratic. Because psychologists have, for the most part, studied people from those kinds of societies, in the field of psychology we thought for a long time that was representative of all people. In fact, WEIRD society is a small part of the global population and when you look at all of history, it's brand new. WEIRD society only began developing around the year 1100, give or take. 


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I get into this work in my book, and I would recommend seeking out Henrich's book, "The WEIRDest People in the World." The idea is that we evolved in kin-based communities: your family, your tribe. Everyone knows that. Kin-based communities look a lot like cults. There tends to be one leader in charge, who often has a lot of wives. There's a lot of fear of outsiders. There are firm boundaries. There's a lot of us-versus-them thinking. They're very cult-like. We evolved in these kinds of groups. 

But what's happening in WEIRD society is completely different. We're all individuals. It's a trust-based economy. It has to be, for markets and contracts to exist. In kin-based communities, nepotism isn't a thing, it's just common sense. But in WEIRD society, we think, "Oh no, that's not fair." WEIRD societies have this obsession with what's fair and not fair. In kin-based communities, it's much more black and white. 

"We evolved in kin-based communities: our family, our tribe. Kin-based communities look a lot like cults. There tends to be one leader in charge, who often has a lot of wives. There's a lot of fear of outsiders. There are firm boundaries."

When I interviewed Henrich, I said that it seems like when we turn to cults in times of crisis, maybe we're just turning back toward the kinds of communities we evolved in. He said that sounded right. Our kin-based tendencies are always with us. They don't go away and they kind of flare up from time to time. It happens when we feel unmoored, when our world wobbles and all of this trust-based society and structure looks a little unsafe. 

America is the apotheosis of WEIRD society. It's the most individualistic of all Western nations. Social media, which has divided us even more, has atomized community so much that I think the pendulum has swung just about as far as it possibly can away from kin-based organizations. I wonder if the huge uptick in cult participation and societal cult-like thinking is a result of that — not only of the pendulum swinging so far, but also of us being at a time of huge crisis. 

You can argue that climate change is the biggest crisis facing humanity. But I would say the most pressing crisis facing Americans is being chronically under-resourced: As I mentioned earlier, 90 percent of Americans are in debt, living paycheck to paycheck, because the 1 percent took all the money. There's nothing that makes your world wobble more than being chronically under-resourced.

The last Puritan theme you examine is "an innate need for order, which makes us vulnerable to anyone screaming, 'Chaos!' and then offering control." You chose a seemingly counterintuitive example: the atypical cult called Love Has Won, whose leader called herself "Mother God" and ended up starving and poisoning herself [in 2021]. Why that group, and what does their example show?

A lot of people who found Love Has Won did so after searching for alternative health care. They had been shut out of the health care system and were looking for alternatives. A lack of health care is one of the circumstances that can most lead someone's world to wobble, and as a result, lead them to look for some kind of control. 

Yes, Amy Carlson was a very chaotic and messy leader. You could even argue whether she was a leader at all. By the end she didn't seem to have the reins. Certain members of her community were so eager for control that they began running the show and basically designed a role for her to fit into. Her death — which the coroner said was caused by anorexia, alcoholism and poisoning by colloidal silver — has been called by the director who did a documentary on the group, "death by addiction, aided and abetted by her community," as often happens with addicts.

What was so heartbreaking is that there were times when she asked for help, when she was ready to go to a hospital and they wouldn't let her. In part, that was because of this worldview that she'd created, this idea that evil spiritual forces would get her if she were in hospital, and that she'd be safe if she were with them. She created this worldview that ended up killing her. It was very tragic, and I am also interested in the fact that she was anorexic, a disease often associated with anxiety and efforts for control. Anxiety levels are soaring right now as Americans seek order and control. 

You also note that throughout the book you explore an eighth credo, the divide between "grace" and "nature" that "distinguishes and creates a hierarchy between humans and the rest of the planet." What role does that play? 

I didn't give it its own chapter because it's so foundational that it's in every chapter, more or less. It's like the foundation of the foundation, the original hierarchy. It undergirds authoritarianism, the search for perfectionism, the illusion of control. Those things are only possible because of this idea of a grace-nature divide, meaning that humans have grace, which is of God and holy, and separate from this evil natural world. Everything in the world is evil, and it can only be made good if we use it to better ourselves. 

"Because we see wealth as a sign of being chosen and poverty as a sign of sin, the lower classes have become sinners in our eyes. They are part of nature, and therefore something that can be mined without compunction."

As you would probably notice from hearing that, the grace-nature divide has fueled runaway extraction economics. It's in the mind-cure movement, in the idea that the physical world is false or can be controlled by the mental or spiritual world. And when you pair it with the notion that poverty is a sin, it's also used as a justification to plunder the lower classes, when even groups of people are seen as natural resources. We see that most egregiously, of course, in the transatlantic slave trade and the extermination or resettlement of Indigenous communities. I believe that's what's happening now in the economy. Because we see wealth as a sign of being chosen and poverty as a sign of sin, the lower classes have become sinners in our eyes. They are part of nature, and therefore something that can be mined without compunction. 

So the grace-nature divide is everywhere. Another reason why I didn't try to explore it more on its own is because some of these tendencies are more common in human nature, and some are more specific to the radical Protestants who founded our nation. This duality of the natural and spiritual world is not wholly unique to radical Protestantism, but it has certainly showed up in a variety of deleterious ways.

You conclude a note of optimism, which is evident in your tone throughout — I enjoyed your lighthearted snark. What gives you hope? 

We're facing some big problems, but I don't think there's been a nation as innovative as ours. I think we are equipped to handle big problems. I think, in fact, that figuring out the solutions to our problems would be relatively easy. The hurdle to the problem-solving, in my mind, is the division. There's not going to be any political will to solve any of our problems — the most pressing being the wealth redistribution we've seen from the bottom to the top since 1970 — if we don't first bridge the division. 

One of the easiest ways to start fixing the mess we're in is to minimize cult-like thinking and cult participation. And that, in some ways, is as easy as revealing a magic trick. That's what I'm trying to do with this book, to reveal the magic trick. This is how we're being exploited. These are the ideas that bad actors are using to exploit us. And when you see it, when we can acknowledge it and start to recognize it, we stop falling for it. When we stop falling for it, we no longer see each other as enemies. What's happening is that we respond with cult-like thinking when we see a threat, when we see an enemy. But often the threat and the enemy are manufactured. They aren't real. It's an illusion.

I just want to point out the illusion. Then I think we can begin to bridge divides. We can bridge cultural divides and political divides, and we can also bridge divides within ourselves, that grace-nature split. When we start to see these splits as illusory — because they are, they don't need to be real — we can view ourselves more as a community and begin to problem-solve and collaborate. Which is what shot humans to the top of the food chain to begin with: cooperation and collaboration. I think it would be very natural for us to get back to that kind of state. 

Finally, what’s the most important question I didn't ask, and what’s the answer? 

We talked about the chronic under-resourcing of the poor, or really of most Americans at this point. I think that's the takeaway I most want to spread. Otherwise I would say it's the conversation around power, and the effects that power has on people psychologically. I say, almost as a joke, that we should consider testing people for narcissism before putting them in positions of power, although I acknowledge that would not really vibe with the U.S. Constitution. But power, I believe, functions like a psychological parasite. When you get some, if you don't have checks on it, it just wants more and more and more of itself. It causes us to behave in ways that seek out more and more power and there is no end. 

"Power, I believe, functions like a psychological parasite. When you get some, it just wants more and more and more of itself. It causes us to behave in ways that seek out more and more power and there is no end."

Power can never have enough, it can't be sated. And so when we see something like Jonestown, where 900-plus people were murdered, that is power's ultimate path, because the ultimate exercise of power is control over life and death. When we see the sexual exploitation that happens in cults, that's about power. Financial exploitation — that's power, because money is power. Most of the studies that are done on power are done on wealthy people because they equate so closely to one another. Greed, you could say, is just power seeking more of itself. 

Cults are situations where there are no checks on power. The reason America has been so successful is because of checks and balances. We learn that in second grade. When you don't have checks on power, that's when everything goes to s**t. Whether you're talking about corporate governance or our current flirtation with autocracy or about a cult who have moved off the radar onto an island somewhere, what you're dealing with is the danger of unchecked power.

My personal recession indicators: I’m stress-buying frozen meat and investing in gold

I don’t need an economist to tell me whether we’re in a recession. Because over the past few months, I’ve noticed significant changes in how I’m spending money.  

My weekly afternoon in a coffee shop has become a black drip from Dunkin'. Instead of Honey Nut Cheerios, I’m starting my days with a boxed cereal called “O’s Bee Juice.” And last week, I got invited to a friend’s wedding in a city I’ve always wanted to visit. Normally, I’d plan on attending, perhaps arriving early. But I had to send my regrets — I’d just spent $600 on bulk orders of fluoride toothpaste, water purification tablets and testing kits for measles, E. coli and macroplastics.

Sounds like a recession, no?

A month ago, the soles in my beloved Reeboks finally gave out. But instead of buying a new pair, I bought used — $80 cheaper, with worn treads. When the seller messaged me to let me know they’d shipped, I sent her an article on how, in the event of a widespread currency collapse, gold might be a solid investment. 

“No pun intended — I know gold’s a soft metal!” I said, normally and well-adjustedly, in my email. She did not reply, nor did she accept my Venmo request for a small contribution to what would be our shared investment account, Sharon. 

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My partner and I typically go out for dinner once a month. Instead, we haven’t had a date night in months. We’ve been eating at home. Freeze-dried meats and nuts, mostly. It’s fun! We’re super into the survivalist blogs. Did you know that, in the event of a declared nuclear disaster, the federal government can close all the grocery stores? There doesn’t even have to be a nuclear disaster. They could just say there’s one. Then, boom. Living off the land! And, if you’re smart, the towering stockpile of beans and canned tuna you’ve amassed in a matter of weeks. 

Recession indicator! My therapist suggested an increase to twice-weekly sessions. 

Eggs are expensive, right? Last night, I emptied my 401(k) and bought a 51% stake in a venture with a foolproof plan to fund Social Security benefits indefinitely. How? Unclear. The plan involves mining a ton of cryptocurrency, a clandestine minerals contract with a corrupt nation, and exploiting what I’ve been assured is a breachable vulnerability in DraftKings’ parlay payout systems. I invited my therapist to invest, but she’s stopped responding to my emails. 

Victory gardens are inspiring, but they’re also a bleak reminder that our supposedly evolved species isn’t evolved enough to prioritize the herd. In the wild, you’ll see animals banish a pack member if food is especially scarce. What you don’t see, though, are a few wolves, each standing atop a mountain of frozen caribou carcasses, while the rest of the pack fights for whatever trickles down. Put another way, I’m too tired to plant a garden.

Earlier today, my running shoes fell apart. I put a new pair on credit. That should be a recession indicator, but it felt familiar.