At the Wire today, Dashiell Bennett highlights the North Korean state news agency's seemingly random manipulation of an image from yesterday's funeral procession for Kim Jong Il -- a crude photoshop job done, Bennett notes, "in such a minor and pointless way that it underscores the paranoid insanity of totalitarian regimes." Meanwhile, over on Reddit, a user links to an Imagur upload of another photo containing a remarkable detail: what appears to be a member of the military in the back row of an orderly formation of mourners, as Kim's funeral procession passes near the Kumsusan Memorial Palace in Pyongyang, standing at least nine feet tall.
You might think it's another sign of the North Korean regime's posturing mania that it would want to doctor-in an image like this. But the photo comes straight from the Associated Press, with no credit noted to KCNA (the notoriously creative North Korean news agency), and was, as it happens, included in Alan Taylor's post on the Kim funeral here at The Atlantic yesterday.
Bear in mind, endemic malnutrition has meant that the average adult North Korean male is more than two inches shorter than the average South Korean, who's in turn a couple of inches shorter than the average American. Factoring that into a close look, this serviceman of the Democratic People's Republic, whoever he is, would still clear 8-and-a-half feet.
Update 1: Taylor has sent over a closer crop of the image, with the exposure brightened so you can better make the figure out. Behold:
Update 2: Theories! They're ranging from everyone's natural first guess (Alex Fleck, below: "It's obviously three children stacked one atop the other Little Rascals-style"), to the terrifying possibility that Slender Man has joined North Korea (per Evan Plant Bradley), to the less-terrifying (at least for non- basketball fans) plausibility that our peripheral mystery figure is none other than Ri Myung Hun / Michael Ri (well done, Matt Delaney).
Most of management theory is inane, writes our correspondent, the founder of a consulting firm. If you want to succeed in business, don’t get an M.B.A. Study philosophy instead
During the seven years that I worked as a management consultant, I spent a lot of time trying to look older than I was. I became pretty good at furrowing my brow and putting on somber expressions. Those who saw through my disguise assumed I made up for my youth with a fabulous education in management. They were wrong about that. I don’t have an M.B.A. I have a doctoral degree in philosophy—nineteenth-century German philosophy, to be precise. Before I took a job telling managers of large corporations things that they arguably should have known already, my work experience was limited to part-time gigs tutoring surly undergraduates in the ways of Hegel and Nietzsche and to a handful of summer jobs, mostly in the less appetizing ends of the fast-food industry.
Michael Anton actively courts controversy with his extreme views. But how much influence does he have in the White House?
Michael Anton warned last year that 2016 was the Flight 93 election: “Charge the cockpit or you die.”
Americans charged. Donald Trump became president of the United States. And Anton, the author of that now-notorious essay, is helping to fly the plane—running communications for the National Security Council.
Anton cuts a curious figure through the Trump White House. A thoroughly educated dandy, his writings are at the core of an effort to construct an intellectual framework around the movement that elected a president who has shown no inclination to read books and who speaks in an unpretentious New York vernacular.
"I’m a huge admirer,” White House chief strategist Steve Bannon said. “I think Michael is one of the most significant intellects in this nationalist movement.”
At the president’s behest, House Republicans will render what might be a final verdict on the Affordable Care Act in a high-stakes vote on Friday.
On Thursday, the Affordable Care Act celebrated its seventh birthday. On Friday, it just might celebrate a most unlikely reprieve.
In a take-it-or-leave-it message delivered by his senior advisers to Capitol Hill, President Trump late Thursday told bickering House Republicans they had one final opportunity to repeal and replace the health-care law they have decried since its enactment. At the president’s behest, Speaker Paul Ryan on Friday will call a vote on the American Health Care Act and dare recalcitrant conservatives to defeat it. If the bill fails, Trump plans to keep Obamacare in place and move on with other parts of his agenda—a move that would enrage conservative activists while conceding an enormous defeat for the new administration.
Party leaders postponed a House vote Thursday after President Trump and Speaker Paul Ryan failed to win enough support.
Updated on March 23 at 4:28 p.m. ET
Lacking the majority needed to pass their bill to replace the Affordable Care Act, House Republican leaders have postponed a planned Thursday vote, imperiling President Trump’s first major legislative priority.
The move was an indication that a series of meetings Trump and Speaker Paul Ryan had with reluctant members in the party’s conservative and centrist wings had failed to achieve a consensus. Members of the House Freedom Caucus left a meeting with the president early in the afternoon saying there was “no deal” as they pushed Ryan to move the bill further to the right. And for Trump and Ryan, the delay dashed their hope of voting to dismantle the law on the seventh anniversary of its signing by former President Barack Obama.
Comprehensive insurance, with benefits like maternity or mental-health coverage, could become unaffordable—if not unavailable—under the GOP’s replacement plan.
Get ready for the “mommy tax.”
One of the most powerful arguments against House Republicans’ embattled legislation to repeal the Affordable Care Act has been that it imposes an “age tax” by raising health-insurance premiums and out-of-pocket expenses for older, working adults.
More broadly, many health-insurance experts say, the latest round of revisions—which are still under negotiation—would undermine Republican promises to protect consumers with preexisting health conditions and could leave comprehensive health insurance virtually unavailable at almost any price on the individual market.
The Wellesley professors find that status quo too permissive.
So they urged new norms that would eschew invitations to speakers like Kipnis. Their premise: “There is no doubt that the speakers in question impose on the liberty of students, staff, and faculty.” Knowing many will be skeptical of that premise, I present their argument at length, in their words, in the order that they appear.
Donald Trump flaunted his elastic conception of truth in an interview with Time—but he may yet learn that facts are stubborn things.
How can anyone convince the most powerful man in the world of something he does not wish to believe?
It’s not an idle question. In a remarkable interview with Time’s Michael Scherer, President Trump flaunted his elastic relationship with truth. Instead of weighing evidence, he explained, he prefers to trust his gut. “I’m a very instinctual person,” he said, “but my instinct turns out to be right.”
Trump unrepentantly rehearsed his litany of false or unsubstantiated claims with Scherer. Was Ted Cruz’s father linked to Lee Harvey Oswald? “Why do you say that I have to apologize? I’m just quoting the newspaper.” (The newspaper in question is the National Enquirer.) Had the president tapped his phones? “A lot of information has just been learned, and a lot of information may be learned over the next coming period of time. We will see what happens.” Were there 3 million fraudulent votes cast in 2016? “Well I think I will be proved right about that too.”
Two Princeton economists elaborate on their work exploring rising mortality rates among certain demographics.
Two years ago, the Princeton economists Anne Case and Angus Deaton published an alarming revelation: Middle-aged white Americans without a college degree were dying in greater numbers, even as people in other developed countries were living longer. The husband-and-wife team argued, in a study in the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, that these white Americans are facing“deaths of despair”—suicide, overdoses from alcohol and drug, and alcohol-related liver disease.
The paper caused a stir in academic circles and in the media, and has remained in the public discourse following Donald Trump’s win partly on the strength of his support from these same middle-aged white Americans (the alive ones, to be clear). The paper, however, couldn’t answer the question everyone had: Why was this demographic in particular struggling? It couldn’t be purely the economic pain they faced in the wake of globalization; after all, European countries are also affected by globalization, and their residents are getting healthier and living longer. And non-whites in the U.S. are living longer than they used to as well, and they are subject to the same economic forces as middle-age whites and are struggling, at least in economic terms, even more.
The commander in chief embraces a peculiar worldview in which bogus claims are retroactively justified and evidence simply conjured into existence.
President Trump remains peculiarly fixated on the cover of Time magazine. He has claimed in the past that he holds the record for most covers, but in an interview with Michael Scherer for this week’s magazine, the president asked if he was the all-time leader. Scherer had to break the bad news to him: Richard M. Nixon still held the lead—though he added, “He was in office for longer, so give yourself time.” “Ok, good. I’m sure I’ll win,” Trump replied.
The exchange is full of intrigue. Neither man noted that though Nixon was elected to two terms, his presidency was foreshortened by paranoia and lawbreaking. Nor did they note the increasingly frequent comparisons between Nixon’s terminal scandal and Trump’s own difficulties. But in the course of an interview about Trump’s extremely distant relationship with the truth—from obvious lies to head-scratching speculation—the president offered Nixonian maxim of his own.
How “engagement” made the web a less engaging place
Here’s a little parable. A friend of mine was so enamored of Google Reader that he built a clone when it died. It was just like the original, except that you could add pictures to your posts, and you could Like comments. The original Reader was dominated by conversation, much of it thoughtful and earnest. The clone was dominated by GIFs and people trying to be funny.
I actually built my own Google Reader clone. (That’s part of the reason this friend and I became friends—we both loved Reader that much.) But my version was more conservative: I never added any Like buttons, and I made it difficult to add pictures to comments. In fact, it’s so hard that I don’t think there has ever been a GIF on the site.