Smith released a nearly six-minute-long, self-led Q&A video to YouTube, addressing the moment when he slapped Chris Rock at the Oscars.
This morning, Will Smith released a video to his nearly 10-million-subscriber-strong YouTube channel, titled, 'It's been a minute..." (The caption? "Thanx, y'all.") Over the course of about six minutes, Smith participates in a slightly odd, self-led Q&A session about anything and everything Slap. The first question asks why he didn't apologize to Rock in his acceptance speech, when he won Best Actor for his role in King Richard, just shortly after the altercation. "I was fogged out by that point, Smith said. "It's all fuzzy. I've reached out to Chris and the message that came back is that he's not ready to talk, and when he is he will reach out," said. "So I will say to you, Chris, I apologize to you." |
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| For once, Mitch McConnell was the one who got double-crossed. |
| And the inspector general has known they were missing since February. |
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Congratulations, dear reader: we've made it to another great season in books. Whether you read like the wind this spring or fell short of your goals, summer is peak reading season, meaning that it's a new lease on life, a new you, and a whole new slate of releases to devour. Whether you're looking to understand our current moment through rigorous nonfiction or escape it through otherworldly plots, 2022's crop of titles offers something for readers of every persuasion. Our favorite books of the year so far run the gamut of genres, from epic fantasy to literary fiction, and tackle a constellation of subjects. If you want to read about spaceships, talking pigs, or supervillains, you've come to the right place. |
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| | Facilitate their escape into the virtual world with the coolest accessories, merch, and video game titles. |
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Tan and I met when we were in our late 20s, in 2000. Both of us were ambitious young reporters chafing at our unglamorous beats in a suburban bureau of the local newspaper. Soon together we rented half of a rickety duplex directly under the surging Queen Anne radio towers, a local landmark. We joked that the reason the rent was so terrifically cheap was that we'd been microwaved until sterile. On weekends I climbed mountains, then hustled back to Seattle to attend book readings. In his free hours Tan, the son of Vietnamese refugees, sniffed out the best pho joints in neighborhoods where recent immigrants had settled. We were paupers-about-town, and with enormous appetites, and we bonded over good books, cheap deals, filthy jokes, and all-you-can-eat buffets. |
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