The version of Iran that Americans see in the media can certainly seem like a
frightening, hostile place: stern mullahs, clandestine nuclear
programs, angry (if often staged) anti-American protests. Yet Iran
seen first-hand is very different, and much friendlier. Approximately
half of Iranians are willing to tell pollsters they hold a favorable
view of Americans, but when visiting the country it seems like many
more share that view. The many Iranians I've met have been eager to
tell me how much they like Americans and the U.S., the many
commonalities they see between the two countries, and of course their
desire to visit--and remain permanently if at all possible. I hope
this other side of Iran comes through in these photos I've taken on my
visits to the country. These are not nearly as disturbing or
frightening as the Iran-related images you're likely accustomed to, but they show the "real" Iran that outsiders rarely see.
Iranian-Americans, left, chat with some Iranian women outside the Imam Mosque in Imam Square, Esfahan.
A book seller displays his wares in Hamedan, on the street outside the tomb of Avicenna, not far from the synagogue and grave of Esther and Mordecai, a Jewish pilgrimage site. Iran is home to as many as 25,000 Jews.
Bazaar shoppers buy fabrics in the main bazaar in Shiraz, a city in southern Iran.
Men laugh over the poultry at a bird market in Esfahan.
A boy walks with two mullahs in the courtyard of the Madraseh-ye Chahar Barg (religious school), built in the 18th century, of Esfahan.
Children play in a fountain in Esfahan's Imam Squareon a summer evening.
A vendor grills corn at the Ganjnameh historic site, known for its cuneiform rock carvings, and near a nature area. It's a popular destination for residents of nearby Hamedan on summer evenings.
Tourists stroll past the vendors at Ganjnameh.
Women walk past the waterfall at Ganjnameh historic site.
A couple walks through a public garden in Bagh-e Eram, Shiraz
People relax at the courtyard of the Tomb of Hafez, the grounds of the tomb of the Persian poet. This Shiraz spot is also known a clandestine rendezvous/pick-up point for young Iranians.
Iranians mill outside the Tomb of Hafez, Shiraz.
On a hot summer day just outside of Kashan, a girl walks through gardens meant to represent the classic Persian view of paradise, designed for Shah Abbas I.
A man relaxes at the Fin gardens on a hot summer day.
A woman kneels to better see the flowers at Fin gardens.
A smiling boy plays in Fin gardens.
A woman and group of schoolgirls smile for the camera at Esfahan's Imam Square.
A young woman speaks on her phone at Bisotun, near Kermanshah, the site of ancient rock carvings from the sixth century B.C., and a UNESCO World Heritage Site.
Shoppers at a market in Esfahan.
An old man stands at Bisotun.
A woman dressed in pink looks over Imam Square on a summer evening.
A man works on his pottery in Bijar, a town of many such workshops, near Hamedan.
A rally poster for President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad hangs above a building.
Two young girls try out rollerblades in Esfahan's Imam Square.
Young women walk through the pool at Imam Square.
The sun begins to set over Imam Square.
Relaxing men gaze over Imam Square as children play in the pool.
Two mullahs talk on a bench.
Women study at Imam Mosque in Esfahan.
Two older women smile for the camera outside of Imam Mosque.
Shoppers peruse the spices at Esfahan's bazaar.
A carriage-driver takes a group of girls on a tour through Esfahan.
A woman laughs at the chocolate tower at a snack stand near the White Palace (former summer palace of the shah) in Saad Abad, a large museum complex and park in north Tehran.
The city center near Imam Khomeini Square and the tomb of Esther and Mordecai.
Children play at Jamshidiyeh park in Tehran.
Young Iranians stroll on the popular mountain trail on the northern edge of Tehran, at the foot of the Alborz Mountains.
Men chat at a park at Sang-e Shir, the site of a famous lion statue left (some believe) by Alexander the Great.
Picnickers at popular park and walking area on the northern edge of Tehran.
A sweet maker works at a roadside gas station/convenience store/highway stop between Esfahan and Shiraz.
Narcissism, disagreeableness, grandiosity—a psychologist investigates how Trump’s extraordinary personality might shape his possible presidency.
In 2006, Donald Trump made plans to purchase the Menie Estate, near Aberdeen, Scotland, aiming to convert the dunes and grassland into a luxury golf resort. He and the estate’s owner, Tom Griffin, sat down to discuss the transaction at the Cock & Bull restaurant. Griffin recalls that Trump was a hard-nosed negotiator, reluctant to give in on even the tiniest details. But, as Michael D’Antonio writes in his recent biography of Trump, Never Enough, Griffin’s most vivid recollection of the evening pertains to the theatrics. It was as if the golden-haired guest sitting across the table were an actor playing a part on the London stage.
“It was Donald Trump playing Donald Trump,” Griffin observed. There was something unreal about it.
Beginning in July of this year, most everywhere we look, there will be a giant number on our food. The change will affect hundreds of thousands of edible products, and, so, hundreds of millions of people. It will affect the way we think about food for decades. (This update is the first in more than 20 years—so long ago that the FDA earnestly describes its current label design as “iconic.”)
Current nutrition labels, legally required on all packaged foods, are to be be replaced with the explicit purpose of improving people’s health. As Michelle Obama said at the unveiling of the new labels on Friday, “Very soon, you will no longer need a microscope, a calculator, or a degree in nutrition to figure out whether the food you’re buying is actually good for our kids.”
For centuries, philosophers and theologians have almost unanimously held that civilization as we know it depends on a widespread belief in free will—and that losing this belief could be calamitous. Our codes of ethics, for example, assume that we can freely choose between right and wrong. In the Christian tradition, this is known as “moral liberty”—the capacity to discern and pursue the good, instead of merely being compelled by appetites and desires. The great Enlightenment philosopher Immanuel Kant reaffirmed this link between freedom and goodness. If we are not free to choose, he argued, then it would make no sense to say we ought to choose the path of righteousness.
Today, the assumption of free will runs through every aspect of American politics, from welfare provision to criminal law. It permeates the popular culture and underpins the American dream—the belief that anyone can make something of themselves no matter what their start in life. As Barack Obama wrote in The Audacity of Hope, American “values are rooted in a basic optimism about life and a faith in free will.”
When new countries rise to power, the transition can end badly, often in war. Harvard’s Graham Allison has argued in The Atlantic that “judging by the historical record, war is more likely than not” between the United States, the world’s current reigning superpower, and China, a rising military and economic force. There is considerable debate on this point, but American pundits and presidential candidates often talk as if China were already an American adversary; Donald Trump has warned, for example, that China will “take us down.” Yet few in the United States seem worried about Asia’s other rising giant, India.
To the contrary, there’s a temptation to support India, a like-minded democracy, as a counterweight against the growing power of authoritarian China. But if American leaders feel confident India can accumulate power without becoming an antagonist, can they find a way to make the same true for China?
The author Moira Weigel argues that the various courtship rituals of the past hundred-odd years have reflected the labor-market conditions of their day.
Love, it turns out, has always been a lot of work.
While every generation will lament anew the fact that finding love is hard, history seems to indicate that this particular social ritual never gets any easier or less exciting. In Labor of Love, a new book documenting the history of dating in America, Moira Weigel, a Ph.D. candidate in comparative literature at Yale University, confirms this lament: Since dating was “invented,” it has always been an activity that required a lot of effort.
As part of her research, Weigel read dating-advice books from the 1800s and hundreds of articles on dating from teen and women’s magazines over the years, and she found two common themes: First, there is usually an older part of the population that perceives dating to be “dying,” or, at least, as not being done “appropriately.” Second, Weigel found that the way people date has almost always been tied to the market forces of their era.
Recent polls shown increasing support for the former governor, who’s hoping to win the Libertarian Party’s nomination this weekend.
If Gary Johnson wants to make it onto a primetime presidential-debate stage as the Libertarian Party’s nominee, he needs to qualify by polling above 15 percent. If he wants to be the nominee, he needs a strong showing at the party’s convention this weekend. And if he wants a strong showing at the convention, he needs to demonstrate to delegates that he’s their party’s ideal standard-bearer—a candidate who can be even a little competitive in a three-way matchup with Donald Trump and Hillary Clinton. Johnson just got good news: A poll released Tuesday morning shows the candidate with 10 percent of the national vote.
The Morning Consult survey puts Clinton at 38 percent, Trump at 35 percent, and Johnson, the two-term former New Mexico governor who also ran for president in 2012, trailing with 10 percent. For any other candidate, that low number would be a sign that the end is near. But not for Johnson, or other third-party candidates hoping to make it big in an election year when many voters will likely hold their noses as they cast their ballots. The 10-percent figure is close to a personal best for Johnson as a presidential candidate; poll analysts note that it is roughly twice as high as Johnson’s figures from the last cycle.
It’s not easy fitting 1.2 million annual visitors onto an island of 330,000 residents.
Iceland may be beautiful, but it’s dangerously close to full. This is the message currently filtering out from the North Atlantic island as it struggles to absorb unprecedented numbers of visitors. Last year, the nation hosted 1.26 million tourists, a staggering number for a chilly island whose population barely scrapes past 330,000 citizens.
Those numbers are powered partly by a “Game of Thrones Effect” that has seen fans of the TV series flock to its shooting locations. The 2010 eruption of the Eyjafjallajökull volcano, which has since become a tourist attraction, also helped to push up its profile as a vacation spot—perversely so, given that the eruption initially led to 107,000 flights across Europe being canceled. Given the rocky waters the country has been sailing through since the 2008 financial crisis, the revenue brought in by this spike in tourism is no doubt welcome. But the sheer volume of visitors to what was until recent decades a remote part of the world is still causing major stress. So how can Iceland keep welcoming people while making sure it isn’t trampled underfoot?
Petty political fights distract from the Vermont senator’s goal of a long-lasting movement.
Bernie Sanders’s beliefs have been obvious from the start. He thinks wealthy elites exert too much influence over American politics. He wants the U.S. government to lessen income inequality. He believes climate change is a pressing threat to the world. The clarity and overarching ambition of his agenda has been central to his appeal and expectations-defying political success so far.
If Sanders wants his political revolution to last, he will need to win widespread support for his ideas well into the future. Yet as the primary election draws to a close, the campaign has increasingly made arguments that may undercut the long-term viability of the movement that has coalesced around the Vermont senator.
A continuation of Valve’s acclaimed sci-fi series has been promised for 10 years, but seems no closer to fruition.
Ten years ago today, the video-game company Valve announced that Half-Life 2: Episode Three, the newest and much-anticipated chapter in its acclaimed sci-fi shooter series, would be out by the end of 2007. This was hardly surprising news: Valve had already released one episodic sequel to its smash hit Half-Life 2, and the second was due out soon. Still, news of Episode Three as “the last in a trilogy” was exciting to fans. Ten years later, they’re still waiting—and the new edition of Half-Life has gone from a eagerly awaited work to gaming history’s most famous piece of “vaporware”—a product announced to the public that the developer has no plans of actually making or releasing.
Since that announcement, Valve has released a dozen games, including the acclaimed Portal and Portal 2 and multiplayer smash hits like Left 4 Dead and Team Fortress 2. But Half-Life 2 sequels ended with Episode Two, and over the years, Valve’s party line on a new installment went from a firm commitment to vague promises to tight-lipped refusals to say anything at all. The longer things go on, the more impossible everyone’s expectations become—if a new Half-Life were ever released, the hype would be unimaginably hard to match, and yet Valve’s initial promise hasonly added to the franchise’s mystique.