Context — December 11, 2018, 12:49 pm

Who Are Those Damned Yellow French?

“Who, save for the little barons of Wall Street, believes in the progressive virtues of capitalism?”

Context — June 7, 2018, 11:16 am

Not What It Takes

Running for president on less than $2,000 a day

Context — March 30, 2018, 1:18 pm

The End of Retirement

When you can’t afford to stop working

Context — November 8, 2017, 12:18 pm

Tomb Raiders

The afterlives of Lenin

Context — October 26, 2017, 10:55 am

Killing the Competition

Monopolization of our public markets is first and foremost a political crisis

Context — July 7, 2017, 8:00 am

Axioms of Evil

From a list of former North Korean dictator Kim Jong Il’s teachings translated into English and posted on a government website.

Context — May 16, 2017, 10:03 am

Everything in Moderation

The success of Germany’s AfD party has in good part been owed to its ability to put a friendly face on a nasty message.

Context — May 2, 2017, 4:31 pm

The Moderator in Manila

What the Trumps are building in the Philippines

Context — March 22, 2017, 1:51 pm

The National Mood

On Sunday, Jimmy Breslin, a longtime New York City newspaper columnists, died at 88. In this short essay, published on in 2010, Breslin reflects on the United States nearly a decade after 9/11.

Context — March 22, 2017, 1:32 pm

Letter to a Young Man About to Enter Publishing

On Monday, Robert Silvers, a founder of the New York Review of Books, died at 87. Before creating the Review, Silvers worked as an editor for Harper’s Magazine, where, in 1959, he edited a collection of essays called “Writing in America.” This work was originally published anonymously, but has since been attributed to Silvers.

Context — March 10, 2017, 1:41 pm

Tort Deform

"The assault by a thousand cuts never stops, but it’s hard for the public to see what is happening."

Context — January 25, 2017, 11:19 am

Crowd Control

A weekend of alternative estimations

Context — January 18, 2017, 1:54 pm

The Lords of Lambeau

On family, fate, and Packers football

Context — January 6, 2017, 3:02 pm

Misinformation Intern

My summer as a military propagandist in Iraq

Context — December 25, 2016, 8:00 am

Christmas in Prison

Greeting the holidays in an age of mass incarceration

Context — December 2, 2016, 5:52 pm

How to Rig an Election

The G.O.P. aims to paint the country red

Context — November 26, 2016, 11:54 am

Castro’s Cuba

The leader, in 1969

Context — November 25, 2016, 11:26 am

A Fate Worse Than Bush

Rudolph Giuliani and the politics of personality

Context — October 28, 2016, 11:35 am

The Great Republican Land Heist

Seven militants are acquitted in takeover of Oregon Wildlife Refuge; Christopher Ketcham traces the history of the Bureau of Land Management

Context — September 23, 2016, 1:49 pm

Beyond the Broken Window

Donald Trump advocates for stop-and-frisk; Petra Bartosiewicz considers the history of William Bratton’s policing policies

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August 2019

The Alps

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A Play with No End

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The Call of the Drums

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Brutal from the Beginning

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A Play with No End·

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When I caught up with the Gilets Jaunes on March 2, near the Jardin du Ranelagh, they were moving in such a mass through the streets that all traffic had come to a halt. The residents of Passy, one of the wealthiest neighborhoods in Paris, stood agape and apart and afraid. Many of the shops and businesses along the route of the march, which that day crossed seven and a half miles of the city, were shuttered for the occasion, the proprietors fearful of the volatile crowd, who mostly hailed from outside Paris and were considered a rabble of invaders.

The Call of the Drums·

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The Great Kurultáj, an event held annually outside the town of Bugac, Hungary, is billed as both the “Tribal Assembly of the Hun-­Turkic Nations” and “Europe’s Largest Equestrian Event.” When I arrived last August, I was fittingly greeted by a variety of riders on horseback: some dressed as Huns, others as Parthian cavalrymen, Scythian archers, Magyar warriors, csikós cowboys, and betyár bandits. In total there were representatives from twenty-­seven “tribes,” all members of the “Hun-­Turkic” fraternity. The festival’s entrance was marked by a sixty-­foot-­tall portrait of Attila himself, wielding an immense broadsword and standing in front of what was either a bonfire or a sky illuminated by the baleful glow of war. He sported a goatee in the style of Steven Seagal and, shorn of his war braids and helmet, might have been someone you could find in a Budapest cellar bar. A slight smirk suggested that great mirth and great violence together mingled in his soul.

Brutal from the Beginning·

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Celebrity sightings are a familiar feature of the modern N.B.A., but this year’s playoffs included an appearance unusual even by the standards of America’s most star-­friendly sports league. A few minutes into the first game of the Western Conference semifinals, between the Golden State Warriors and the Houston ­Rockets—the season’s hottest ticket, featuring the reigning M.V.P. on one side and the reigning league champions on the other—­President Paul Kagame of Rwanda arrived with an entourage of about a dozen people, creating what the sports website The Undefeated called “a scene reminiscent of the fashionably late arrivals of Prince, Jay-­Z, Beyoncé and Rihanna.”

The Alps·

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A Toyota HiAce with piebald paneling, singing suspension, and a reg from the last millennium rolled into the parking lot of the Swinford Gaels football club late on a Friday evening. The HiAce belonged to Rory Hughes, the eldest of the three brothers known as the Alps, and the Alps traveled everywhere together in it. The three stepped out and with a decisive slam of the van’s side door moved off across the moonscape of the parking lot in the order of their conceptions, Rory on point, the middle brother, Eustace, close behind, and the youngest, ­Bimbo, in dawdling tow.

Hurrah for the Plaza·

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There has been a proliferation of plazas in the past twenty years, here in New York City but also elsewhere in America, even in Minnesota, where I’m from. Maybe in the zoning laws there is provision for the apportionment of sunshine, or maybe it’s just leftover space waiting to be developed, but here it is, an open ­plaza where people can mingle freely, enjoy face-­to-­face encounters, take a break from Facebook, Twitter, YouTube, Instagram—­the national unconscious with its fevers of conspiracy and ancient hatreds and malignity—­and walk out into the fresh air of democracy, where the general looseness—­no security personnel, no ropes, no questions—­testifies to the inherent good manners of one’s fellow citizens. There is no sign reading: your consideration of your neighbors is appreciated. thank you for not engaging in abusive talk or elaborate paranoia. People just behave without being told, as if their mothers were watching them.

Cost of renting a giant panda from the Chinese government, per day:


A recent earthquake in Chile was found to have shifted the city of Concepción ten feet to the west, shortened Earth’s days by 1.26 microseconds, and shifted the planet’s axis by nearly three inches.

“What’s the point?” said Senator Tim Scott, who is paid at least $174,000 per year as an elected official, when asked whether he had read the Mueller report.

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Happiness Is a Worn Gun


“Nowadays, most states let just about anybody who wants a concealed-handgun permit have one; in seventeen states, you don’t even have to be a resident. Nobody knows exactly how many Americans carry guns, because not all states release their numbers, and even if they did, not all permit holders carry all the time. But it’s safe to assume that as many as 6 million Americans are walking around with firearms under their clothes.”

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