There's only one right answer when someone asks what is the best Ken Burns documentary and that answer is: "Baseball".
You expect gravity and eloquent darkness with "The Civil War" and "The War" and "Vietnam".
You expect grandeur and permanency with "National Parks".
You expect gorgeous narrative with "The Roosevelts".
All incredible and none combine all three like "Baseball".
Then again, I am very biased and my disgust with all that's awful in the world may be leaning very heavily into this opinion that centers some kind of joy, even in heartbreak.
I watched "Vietnam" recently, and it throttled me. There's so much there that rips into you. What a terrible chapter in our history. Shame all around.
Anyway, watch "Baseball".
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While she was at Howard University, Vice President Kamala Harris worked at McDonalds to earn spending money, and now that she’s the Democratic nominee for president, the rightwing blogosphere is attempting to push the absurd conspiracy theory that she lied about it.
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They apparently realize it’s not great that Donald Trump—infamously gifted enormous sums of money from his father coming out of college—is being juxtaposed with VP Harris making french fries and working the cash register, and they’re freaking out about it.
And they should be freaking out about it. While Trump was born with a silver foot in his mouth (thank you, Ann Richards), Vice President Harris has had to actually, you know, work in a job familiar to working class families who are struggling to make ends meet.
Folks, believe it or not, there are just seven Fridays left before Election Day. Surreal, I know. So, for the final sprint, on several Fridays, I'll be putting a spotlight on an org or candidate that could use our help.
To kick it off, I wanna talk about @TheNext50Us.
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Founded in 2019 by @Ciaomack and Zak Malamed, The Next 50 supports diverse, next generation candidates running in some of the most important races up and down the ballot across the U.S.
The Exec. Director is @ZachWahls. You probably remember him from this viral speech in 2011:
Mr. Wahls was 19 when he gave that speech. He's now 33 and serving in his second term in the Iowa State Senate. Rather than rest on his laurels, Sen. Wahls is working to build the next generation of political leadership in our country. And he and his team have plenty of winners.
As we await details on whatever it is that's being called a "major scandal" for North Carolina gubernatorial candidate Mark Robinson, it might help to contextualize the long, long, long history of terrible behavior on his part that, apparently, wasn't enough for NC GOP.
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Hard to know where to start, but let's begin with his history of antisemitism. Among other things, he's fully bought into the "Jewish bankers running the world" nonsense, frequently invoked horrible Jewish stereotypes, and basically shrugged re: Nazism.
He basically dabbled in Holocaust denialism, stating, among other things: "...this foolishness about Hitler disarming MILLIONS of Jews and then marching them off to concentration camps is a bunch of hogwash."
Alright, folks, the big moment has arrived. For the first time, a Black and South Asian woman is standing on a presidential debate stage. And she's the leader we need. Follow my debate live-tweeting here.
A few months ago, in the midst of the national fervor over President Biden’s debate performance, I was in a pretty terrible mood listening to it all and decided to take a long walk through D.C.
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I put on some sunscreen, popped in my earbuds with a good playlist, and took a stroll around town, about an hour later finding myself on a residential street.
As I was wandering down the sidewalk, I saw a cyclist approaching from the opposite direction pretty fast and carrying a 7/11 Big Gulp in one hand, his other paw on the handle bar.
All of us kids were sleeping in my mother’s room when the gunshot went off. The three of us who weren’t holding a gun woke up almost immediately. My mother, improbably, slept through it.
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I sat up, obviously startled and a bit foggy, and saw my younger stepbrother, almost four at the time and barely over three feet tall, standing next to me and facing the bedroom window.
He was holding a small revolver, a faint trace of smoke billowing from it. I turned in the direction of the window, and there, in the early morning light, was a bullet hole in the center of the glass and a spider web of cracks extending in each direction.