The biggest grift in American politics not based exclusively in a subpoena-laden compound in Florida has made some more news in its own inimitable, disingenuous way. From Politico: "The centrist group No Labels has targeted Republican donors disaffected with Donald Trump, pitching its unity ticket as a way to beat the former president without funding an entity assisting President Joe Biden." Really? This seems...unpossible. No Labels has been suspiciously reluctant to reveal its donor base. I guess we know why now. |
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The Journal of the American Medical Association published a damning report confirming that party affiliation in Ohio and Florida was a risk for dying of Covid-19. |
| The CNN anchor, who just published his sixth book, All The Demons Are Here, walks us through his hectic routine: "It probably would be better for my psyche if I were wired differently. But I don't know how one fixes such a thing." |
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These two heavy-hitters have proven track records of leading their teams to victory. |
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| JWindow air conditioners are nobody's favorite way to cool their home. They're ugly, they're loud, they're energy-inefficient, and if you're anything like me, you've spent an inordinate amount of time wondering, "Is this going to tumble out of my window and kill someone?" But it doesn't have to be this way. Earlier this summer, in search of an alternative to the clunky Frigidaire cooling my bedroom with all the elegance of a jet engine, I swapped in July's medium-sized window unit. Sleek, chic, and powerful as hell, it arrived right on time for Earth's hottest summer on record—and it's revolutionized how I cool my apartment. |
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| The not-so-humble hooded sweatshirt is still the reigning champ. |
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| A few weeks before my trip, I called to review my schedule with Papa over the phone. Instead, we fought. Then I did something I'd never done before: I hung up on him. It felt forbidden and scary. Good Indian Girls did not hang up on their fathers. But it was also a luxury. Now that I had a job, Papa couldn't do the things he'd done when I was younger and dependent on him: threaten to cut off my phone access, or forbid me to apply to jobs that he didn't approve of, or warn that he'd stop paying my tuition. Hanging up gave me a surge of power. I learned later that Papa had rammed his head through the bathroom wall that night, repeatedly, leaving a gaping hole. A routine phone call had opened a tenth circle of hell in mere seconds, and now an indestructible tie had somehow been severed. Yet I had never been so sure that I didn't deserve to be treated like this. |
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