You know, normally something this stupid wouldn't bother me, but this story really gets under my skin. If they can try to paint Common as a 'dangerous black man,' what black man is immune? If they think Common is vile, then I know they have no use for my black ass. Common is beyond the pale, Michelle Obama hates whitey, Eric Holder is protecting the New Black Panther Party, Shirley Sherrod is discriminating against white farmers, Barack Obama is giving reparations to black people? Conservatives, do you realize how stupid this sounds to black people? (and I know that black people aren't the audience for that kind of talk, there's no need to point that out to me.) Seriously, you can't find less-threatening black people.
And fundamentally, I doubt if they even think Common's that bad. He's a convenient target for a bit of demagoguing, which is even more repugnant. At least when Lee Atwater used the "Let's dredge up the 'dangerous black man' feelings for a cheap political hit" ploy, he'd choose an actually dangerous black man.
I mean, look, politically, I'm pretty liberal, so it's not like I'd ever be a regular Republican voter anyway. But shit like this is what prevents me from even getting to the point where I'd give their policies a fair hearing. And I know there are some Republicans and conservatives here, and I say that you have no chance of getting any kind of support from black voters as long as the leaders of your party are pulling these kinds of stunts.
I think that first paragraph captures a lot of what I meant when I asked "Who will they accept? This is different from \"Who will they agree with?" I think Liz Cheney's attacks on Eric Holder were disgusting and erroneous, but they were also pretty run of the mill for American politics. I think "Obamacare" is disparaging, but it's also the sort of term that people who disagree with you generally coin. I think "pull the plug on gradma" was a lie, but it was the exact sort of lie that I could imagine being employed against President Hillary Clinton.
David is pointing to something else, something which I tried to get at in my Malcolm piece. Throughout the 80s and 90s, there were a lot of black folks on the public stage who many of us loved, but never really held up as role models or hoped would be "accepted." You can understand why, say, Mike Tyson, Chuck D, Jesse Jackson, Al Sharpton, OJ Simpson, NWA, or Snoop Dogg might be polarizing. A lot of these folks were polarizing even within the black community. You didn't really expect these people to be received as your ambassadors.
But Common is the dude in the Gap ad. His mother is a teacher. Shirley Sherrod is a victim of white supremacist terrorism, who lectures black people on seeing their own prejudice. Eric Holder went to Stuyvesant. Michelle Obama's mother was a homemaker. Her parents forfeited a full athletic scholarship to send Michelle Obama's brother to Princeton. They used to watch the Brady Bunch together.
If Common is disturbing, Shirley Sherrod wants to discriminate against white people, MIchelle Obama is obsessed with Whitey, and Barack Obama has a hatred of white people, then the rest of us are in real trouble. When you talk about "nonthreatening" this really is the best we've got.
The president is upset with congressional leaders for slow-rolling his core campaign promise, and for failing to defund sanctuary cities in their spending bill.
President Donald Trump is threatening to veto a massive government spending package over border wall funding measures, a senior White House official and two senior House Republican aides told The Atlantic. The president is also “upset” that the bill lacks a measure to defund sanctuary cities, both sources added.
“He certainly wants the wall money,” the senior White House official said. “And he knows the ink is not dry yet on the bill.”
Another White House official told The Atlantic that Trump’s comments about the border wall in particular indicate the president’s broader dissatisfaction with congressional leaders, who he believes have been stagnant on moving ahead with his core campaign promise.
Mark Zuckerberg might believe the world is better without privacy. He’s wrong.
It will be fantastically satisfying to see the boy genius flayed. All the politicians—ironically, in search of a viral moment—will lash Mark Zuckerberg from across the hearing room. They will corner Facebook’s founding bro, seeking to pin all manner of sin on him. This will make for scrumptious spectacle, but spectacle is a vacuous substitute for policy.
As Facebook’s scandals have unfolded, the backlash against Big Tech has accelerated at a dizzying pace. Anger, however, has outpaced thinking. The most fully drawn and enthusiastically backed proposal now circulating through Congress would regulate political ads that can appear on the platform, a law that hardly curbs the company’s power or profits. And, it should be said, a law that does nothing to attack the core of the problem: the absence of governmental protections for personal data.
They’re both blamed for predisposing their members to violent acts, but they’ve sparked radically different public-policy responses.
When I thought about locking up with a crew in 1996, I wanted to see a full initiation first, not parts I stumbled upon over the years. My friend Cliff and I arrived at a park not close from my home in Jamaica, Queens. Leaves danced with the wind around our feet, wafting an eerie feeling in my 14-year-old black body. The grounds of the initiation beckoned: a high-rise chain link fence, enclosing two basketball courts.
Through the daylighted chain, I watched scowls and punches and stomps engulf the uninitiated teen—a stoppage, then an awkward transition into hugs, handshakes, and smiles. The striking contrast shot at my core of authenticity, the insincerity of the punch-hug, of the stomp-smile, murdering my thoughts of joining a crew.
A wedding is no longer the first step into adulthood that it once was, but, often, the last.
The decline of marriage is upon us. Or, at least, that’s what the zeitgeist would have us believe. In 2010, when Time magazine and the Pew Research Center famously asked Americans whether they thought marriage was becoming obsolete, 39 percent said yes. That was up from 28 percent when Time asked the question in 1978. Also, since 2010, the Census Bureau has reported that married couples have made up less than half of all households; in 1950 they made up 78 percent. Data such as these have led to much collective handwringing about the fate of the embattled institution.
But there is one statistical tidbit that flies in the face of this conventional wisdom: A clear majority of same-sex couples who are living together are now married. Same-sex marriage was illegal in every state until Massachusetts legalized it in 2004, and it did not become legal nationwide until the Supreme Court decision Obergefell v. Hodges in 2015. Two years after that decision, 61 percent of same-sex couples who were sharing a household were married, according to a set of surveys by Gallup. That’s a high take-up rate: Just because same-sex couples are able to marry doesn’t mean that they have to; and yet large numbers have seized the opportunity. (That’s compared with 89 percent of different-sex couples.)
How evangelicals, once culturally confident, became an anxious minority seeking political protection from the least traditionally religious president in living memory
One of the most extraordinary things about our current politics—really, one of the most extraordinary developments of recent political history—is the loyal adherence of religious conservatives to Donald Trump. The president won four-fifths of the votes of white evangelical Christians. This was a higher level of support than either Ronald Reagan or George W. Bush, an outspoken evangelical himself, ever received.
Trump’s background and beliefs could hardly be more incompatible with traditional Christian models of life and leadership. Trump’s past political stances (he once supported the right to partial-birth abortion), his character (he has bragged about sexually assaulting women), and even his language (he introduced the words pussy and shithole into presidential discourse) would more naturally lead religious conservatives toward exorcism than alliance. This is a man who has cruelly publicized his infidelities, made disturbing sexual comments about his elder daughter, and boasted about the size of his penis on the debate stage. His lawyer reportedly arranged a $130,000 payment to a porn star to dissuade her from disclosing an alleged affair. Yet religious conservatives who once blanched at PG-13 public standards now yawn at such NC-17 maneuvers. We are a long way from The Book of Virtues.
Photos of the long, painstaking construction process of the $8 billion James Webb Space Telescope, set to launch in early 2019.
Assembling the world’s most powerful space telescope is a complicated process, and Chris Gunn has been there from nearly the beginning. Gunn, a NASA photographer, has spent almost a decade photographing the James Webb Space Telescope, the successor to the famed Hubble, capturing its transformation from a bare metal framework into a gleaming science observatory with 18 gold-plated mirrors. “For me, a science-fiction buff, it’s almost like seeing the Enterprise being built,” Gunn says. NASA has Gunn capture nearly step in the process for the space agency’s own records—“every single wrench turn, every single movement is documented,” he said. Some photos are never disclosed because they feature proprietary technology. Others, after thorough approval from project managers, are released to the public to spark interest and awe at the ambitious (and expensive) project. Soon, it’ll be Webb’s turn to take pictures. In 2019, the telescope will launch to a spot about one million miles from Earth and settle into an orbit around the sun. Webb, seeing the cosmos in infrared wavelengths, will photograph the most distant stars and galaxies in the universe. When that happens, Gunn says, “I really want people to want to know what the observatory looked like and how it was built and about the people who built it.”
My same-sex partner and I have been seeing the same therapist both individually and as a couple. Over the past year, we both feel that she has fundamentally changed our lives.
While seeing her nearly weekly, we’ve both grown pretty attached to her—she’s funny, kind, and around our age—and we have often joked, outside of therapy, about how we wish she could be our friend rather than our therapist.
One day, regrettably, we were feeling a bit nosy and decided to see if we could find our therapist on Facebook. We ended up falling down a rabbit hole and discovered something concerning; our therapist’s father is a prominent public figure in our state who has taken many hardline stances against the LGBTQ community. We were shocked by this.
The party nominated businessman J.B. Pritzker to go up against Governor Bruce Rauner, the Republican incumbent who barely avoided an embarrassing primary defeat on Tuesday night.
Democrats have for more than a year gone to bat against a billionaire president and his Cabinet full of wealthy executives, railing against their conflicts of interest and accusing them of satisfying their lavish tastes on the taxpayers’ dime.
But in their quest to reclaim the governorship of the nation’s third-largest blue state, Democrats in Illinois have turned to a billionaire of their own to match up against the Republican multimillionaire in office, Bruce Rauner.
J.B. Pritzker, an entrepreneur, investor, and longtime Democratic donor, on Tuesday night easily defeated a son of Robert F. Kennedy and a liberal state senator to capture the party’s nomination ahead of a general-election campaign that’s expected to be the most expensive in state history. Pritzker won 45.4 percent of the vote to 26.5 percent for state Senator Daniel Biss and 24.2 percent for Chris Kennedy, who could not translate his family name into electoral success as a first-time candidate.
When doctors can directly access patients' cerebral reward networks, someone has to decide just how good people should feel.
It is a good question, but I was a little surprised to see it as the title of a research paper in a medical journal: “How Happy Is Too Happy?”
Yet there it was in a publication from 2012. The article was grappling with the issue of how we should deal with the possibility of manipulating people’s moods and feelings of happiness through brain stimulation. If you have direct access to the reward system and can turn the feeling of euphoria up or down, who decides what the level should be? The doctors or the person whose brain is on the line?
The authors were asking this question because of a patient who wanted to decide the matter for himself: a 33-year-old German man who had been suffering for many years from severe OCD and generalized anxiety syndrome. A few years earlier, his doctors had implanted electrodes in a central part of his brain’s reward system—namely, the nucleus accumbens. Electrically stimulating the patient’s brain had worked rather well on his symptoms, but now it was time to change the stimulator battery.