A man many accuse of arrogant loftiness, of being completely severed from those he lords over, issued an open letter this week addressed to the “Citizens of Europe,” as if the current year happened to be 1452. Emmanuel Macron, default French president and paramour of the Financial Times, is currently battling months-long rolling
Anyone remotely familiar with British politics won’t be surprised to learn that Jeremy Corbyn, Labour Party leader, isn’t particularly well-furnished between his ears. A new book, Dangerous Hero, sadly aping something more fitting for a Steven Seagal title, confirms everything one already knew about dear Jeremy. It also confirms the sad state of
My old man tells me he left college in the 1970s and walked into a job for life. He tells me his first home cost twice the average salary. Then he tells me, without a soupçon of jest, “things were still pretty tough back then.” His brow—unapologetically smooth for its 65 years, cheeks
Thickly daubed upon her milk-white breasts was a poignant message. Across the sternum: “Brexit.” Above the right breast: “Leaves.” Above the left: “Britain.” Under both pendulous offerings: “Naked.” This wasn’t an exhibit at the Tate Modern. But live TV. The owner of the breasts, Dr. Victoria Bateman, an economics fellow at Cambridge University,
A favorite Saturday activity of mine involves chatting with a merry band of socialists who clot on a main street near me. Dreadlocked, dreary, and decked in alarming red, they implore every passersby somehow to stop U.S. “imperialism” in Venezuela. From outside Starbucks a mere 4,738 miles away. Most of us drenched in
Just a few miles from my hometown sits the Welsh Rust Belt—the south Wales Valleys. Stamped onto those verdant galloping hills is what remains of the industrial revolution’s once convulsing heart. Legions of coal-dusted men once winched down into the pits, day after day after day, chipping away at the other black gold.
The people who ruined the world all gathered high in the Swiss Alps this week to insist, to themselves at least, that all is well and good. Yes. At the World Economic Forum in Davos, everything is just swell. President Trump wasn’t there because he is busy demanding a wall across the southern
It should serve as immutable proof of cultural decline that “people on Twitter” are regarded as an authority of Socratic relevance. Ladling opinions that once never would have seeped beyond the confines of urine-fragrant public transport, such corrosive waffle now booms through all political discourse. But reading the greatest hits from that symposium
The definition of words matters little these days. This week, a handful of yellow-vested protestors harangued a British lawmaker outside Parliament. The bleary crew demanded that Anna Soubry, a virulent Remainer, acquiesce to their apparently unreasonable suggestion their vote to leave the European Union actually count. They used the F-word. They called her
One can’t digitally swing a cat on Facebook. No space. All those memes. Thickening in their japery. Emboldened, strengthened, armored, by like after like after like. We learned this week that Elizabeth Warren is exploring a run for president in 2020. And she, “Fauxcahontas,” as the jibe extends, is destined to fall stupendously.