As I've said before, Kenyatta and I have a recurring fantasy of moving to Colorado. The East Coast is obscene with writers, and I'm pretty convinced that I'm missing something by living so close to my own kind. Nothing would please me more than to move to Leadville and dissappear. I'd likely have a serious barber-shop problems, since Leadville's black population appears to be somewhere in the neighborhood of three. But hey, nothing good comes without sacrifice.
Anyway, there are mountains out here that will convince you that there are no actual mountains back east, just hills. Beyond that, there's the sort of nature that will convince you that Central Park is not so much nature, as it is a small oasis among skyscrapers.
So there's this big mountain here in Aspen, big for me at least, which most people scale via the elegant gondola. I am deeply afraid of heights, but I don't like being punked (comes from my days being bullied) and so every year I come here, I insist on riding the gondola and scaring myself silly. Yesterday, I went up with my old friend Amanda. At the top, somehow, we got the bright idea to go back down, head to our rooms, get dressed and take the 4.7 mile hike back up.
This was not very intelligent. But it was incredibly wise.
I tend to do quite a bit of running. I'm not very fast, but I do have bad form. So there's that. Anyway, subconsciously I've come to connect speed with exertion, and being from the East, I have very little prolonged experience with what altitude will do to your system. Every year I'd see people hiking the mountain. From the gondola they seemed to move so slow, like figures buzzing across one of those old electric football games.
"Can't be that hard," I thought. We estimated finishing the hike in under two hours.
It took us three hours. During that time, we encountered two storms. (It's against the code of effete East Coast liberals to check the weather) and then as we got to the top, we were flayed by pellets of hail It's hard to understand altitude, if you haven't really pushed yourself against it. It lengthens everything. You get close to what looks like the end, but you're farther than you think, because you don't have the wind you had earlier, and the air is colder.
But we got to the top, totally out of ourselves. It was a fatigue beyond fatigue. Still, I was glad we had done it. So much of my physical fitness is artificial--gym, landscaped park etc. There's something about taking that fitness back to nature, something about applying it to a task that's ancient and real.
The first thing I'd do, if I moved out here, is rip up my gym membership.
Ta-Nehisi Coates is a national correspondent at The Atlantic, where he writes about culture, politics, and social issues. He is the author of The Beautiful Struggle and the forthcoming Between the World and Me.
Paul faced danger, Ani and Ray faced each other, and Frank faced some career decisions.
This is what happens when you devote two-thirds of a season to scene after scene after scene of Frank and Jordan’s Baby Problems, and Frank Shaking Guys Down, and Look How Fucked Up Ray and Ani Are, and Melancholy Singer in the Dive Bar Yet Again—and then you suddenly realize that with only a couple episodes left you haven’t offered even a rudimentary outline of the central plot.
What if Joe Biden is going to run for the Democratic nomination after all?
Most Democrats seem ready for Hillary Clinton—or at least appear content with her candidacy. But what about the ones who who were bidin’ for Biden? There are new signs the vice president might consider running for president after all.
Biden has given little indication he was exploring a run: There’s no super PAC, no cultivation of a network of fundraisers or grassroots organizers, few visits to early-primary states. While his boss hasn’t endorsed Clinton—and says he won’t endorse in the primary—many members of the Obama administration have gone to work for Clinton, including some close to Biden.
But Biden also hasn’t given any clear indication that he isn’t running, and a column by Maureen Dowd in Saturday’s New York Times has set off new speculation. One reason Biden didn’t get into the race was that his son Beau was dying of cancer, and the vice president was focused on being with his son. But before he died in May, Dowd reported, Beau Biden tried to get his father to promise to run. Now Joe Biden is considering the idea.
California Representative Adam Schiff, the ranking Democrat on the House Intelligence Committee, has decided to come out in favor of the nuclear agreement.
Earlier this year, California Representative Adam Schiff, the ranking Democrat on the House Intelligence Committee, told me he had serious doubts about Iran’s intentions as it pursued a nuclear deal with the United States and five other world powers. He also said he was somewhat worried about the scale of possible American concessions during the talks. Schiff, who I described in a post at the time as a “moderate’s moderate,” suggested to me that he wanted to see President Obama achieve an important foreign-policy success, but as a Jew, he wanted to make sure that an anti-Semitic regime—both he and Obama agree that Iran is ruled by an anti-Semite—would not be allowed to become a nuclear-weapons state. At the time, he told me he was “uncommitted” and that he would “remain uncommitted” until he had time to review a final deal, should a final deal materialize.
Put simply: Climate change poses the threat of global catastrophe. The planet isn’t just getting hotter, it’s destabilizing. Entire ecosystems are at risk. The future of humanity is at stake.
Scientists warn that extreme weather will get worse and huge swaths of coastal cities will be submerged by ever-more-acidic oceans. All of which raises a question: If climate change continues at this pace, is anywhere going to be safe?
“Switzerland would be a good guess,” said James Hansen, the director of climate science at Columbia University’s Earth Institute. Hansen’s latest climate study warns that climate change is actually happening faster than computer models previously predicted. He and more than a dozen co-authors found that sea levels could rise at least 10 feet in the next 50 years. Slatepoints out that although the study isn’t yet peer-reviewed, Hansen is “known for being alarmist and also right.”
Fetal-tissue research enjoyed bipartisan support amid decades-long efforts to revoke government funding to Planned Parenthood.
Republican calls to defund Planned Parenthood over its handling of fetal tissue for research are louder than ever. But they form just the latest episode in a decades-long drive to halt federal support for the group.
This round of attacks aims squarely at the collection of fetal tissue, an issue that had been mostly settled—with broad bipartisan support—in the early 1990s. Among those who voted to allow federal funding for fetal tissue research was Senator Mitch McConnell, now the majority leader.
McConnell made no mention of his previous position on the issue when he announced that the Senate would take up a bill to cut off Planned Parenthood’s access to federal funds before leaving for its summer break. The first vote on the bill is expected as soon as Monday.
Writing used to be a solitary profession. How did it become so interminably social?
Whether we’re behind the podium or awaiting our turn, numbing our bottoms on the chill of metal foldout chairs or trying to work some life into our terror-stricken tongues, we introverts feel the pain of the public performance. This is because there are requirements to being a writer. Other than being a writer, I mean. Firstly, there’s the need to become part of the writing “community”, which compels every writer who craves self respect and success to attend community events, help to organize them, buzz over them, and—despite blitzed nerves and staggering bowels—present and perform at them. We get through it. We bully ourselves into it. We dose ourselves with beta blockers. We drink. We become our own worst enemies for a night of validation and participation.
Two hundred fifty years of slavery. Ninety years of Jim Crow. Sixty years of separate but equal. Thirty-five years of racist housing policy. Until we reckon with our compounding moral debts, America will never be whole.
And if thy brother, a Hebrew man, or a Hebrew woman, be sold unto thee, and serve thee six years; then in the seventh year thou shalt let him go free from thee. And when thou sendest him out free from thee, thou shalt not let him go away empty: thou shalt furnish him liberally out of thy flock, and out of thy floor, and out of thy winepress: of that wherewith the LORD thy God hath blessed thee thou shalt give unto him. And thou shalt remember that thou wast a bondman in the land of Egypt, and the LORD thy God redeemed thee: therefore I command thee this thing today.
— Deuteronomy 15: 12–15
Besides the crime which consists in violating the law, and varying from the right rule of reason, whereby a man so far becomes degenerate, and declares himself to quit the principles of human nature, and to be a noxious creature, there is commonly injury done to some person or other, and some other man receives damage by his transgression: in which case he who hath received any damage, has, besides the right of punishment common to him with other men, a particular right to seek reparation.
The Internet is awash with guides for finding success on the crowdfunding website Kickstarter. A quick search yields (in numerical order):
“6 Tips From Kickstarter on How to Run a Successful Crowdfunding Campaign”
“Crowdfunding Secrets: 7 Tips For Kickstarter Success”
“8 Things I Learned From My (Failed) Kickstarter Campaign”
“Kicking Ass & Taking Donations: 9 Tips on Funding Your Kickstarter Project”
“10 Tips I Wish I Knew Before I Launched My Kickstarter Campaign”
And so on.
But the best advice to those seeking money online might sound more like this: Be thin, fair-skinned, and attractive.
It is true that in many realms, crowdfunding has delivered on its democratic promise. Take female entrepreneurship: It’s been shown that professional investors have consistently view pitches from men more favorably than those from women, even when the content of those pitches was the same. Kickstarter has subverted that. On the site, projects launched by women are more likely to secure funding than those started by men.
Even when a dentist kills an adored lion, and everyone is furious, there’s loftier righteousness to be had.
Now is the point in the story of Cecil the lion—amid non-stop news coverage and passionate social-media advocacy—when people get tired of hearing about Cecil the lion. Even if they hesitate to say it.
But Cecil fatigue is only going to get worse. On Friday morning, Zimbabwe’s environment minister, Oppah Muchinguri, called for the extradition of the man who killed him, the Minnesota dentist Walter Palmer. Muchinguri would like Palmer to be “held accountable for his illegal action”—paying a reported $50,000 to kill Cecil with an arrow after luring him away from protected land. And she’s far from alone in demanding accountability. This week, the Internet has served as a bastion of judgment and vigilante justice—just like usual, except that this was a perfect storm directed at a single person. It might be called an outrage singularity.