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Cryptic Calvin: What Does Calvin Harris’ Snap Story Of The Fan Mean?

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I am a huge love of Calvin Harris. Each morning, I wake up and religiously watch his Snapchats before I watch anyone else’s( even the guy I have a crush on ).

Lately, though, my boy Cal has been posting unbelievably cryptic, “motivational” communications.( “Motivational” is in breath repeats because these pronunciations are anything BUT motivational .) They truly precisely move me happy for him and perfectly sallow at Taylor because she surely violated his nerve to the point of no return.

Friends, the man have undoubtedly lost it. Cryptic Calvinhas travelled INSANE.

Here are my interpretationsof his cryptic Snapchats.


This morning, he posted a “speech” snap where all you see is a fan, and then the word, “Go all the way” 😛 TAGEND

What does “go all the way” represent ?! Go all the way in life? Your occupation? Relationships?

My good guess is, he’s alluding to the idea Taylor didn’t give their relationship her “all.” I necessitate, she must not have because she moved on WAY extremely SWIFT-ly, and you don’t move on that swiftly from something you gave your “all” to.

So, in order to make sure the relationship doesn’t fall flat like theirs did, you simply have to give 110 percentage effort.

After that cracking, he posted one of JUST the love with no motivational message 😛 TAGEND

Creepy as blaze, Cal. Creepy as HELL.

Now, as for what this entails: First off, what is a fan?

Fan( noun ): an apparatus with revolving blades that creates a current of air for cooling or ventilation.

OK, that doesn’t make sense. Perhaps the verb chassis will precede us somewhere 😛 TAGEND

Fan( verb ): toincrease the strength of( a shoot) by blowing on it or stirring up the air near it.

WAIT, OK. Could it be that Calvin is portending his plan to stir up some fus by calling out T-Swizzy on her shady decision to break up with him for Tom What’s-His-Face?

A Brief Timeline Of Taylor and Calvin’s Romance

March 2015: Taylor and Calvin start dating, and the world( me) wallows March 2016: Taylor poles those now-nonexistent-yet-epic photos of her and Calvin onvacation together May 2016: Taylor supposedly dropped Calvin after his gondola gate-crash because he wasn’t imparting her the attention she required( uh, ok) June 2016: Calvin unfollows Taylor on Instagram and they both remove the pics they have together. He also stymie Swifties on Twitter( WTF ?) because photos of Taylor and Tom Hiddleston begin to skin-deep Sometime after that: Calvin starts posting funny selfies, road rage videos and “motivational” discussions on Snapchat, and my life abruptly grows worth living.

Trump says both sides to blame amid Charlottesville backlash

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(CNN)President Donald Trump, in a staggering, impromptu news conference in New York on Tuesday, blamed the violence in Charlottesville, Virginia, over the weekend on both sides of the conflict — equating the white supremacists on one side with the “alt-left” on the other side — after his top White House aides spent days trying to clean up after Trump’s initial vague response to the violence.

The news conference laid bare his unvarnished view of who was to blame for the violence and what he thinks about the nationwide effort to remove statues of Confederate leaders. Trump’s comments were the latest in what has been a jaw-dropping saga ever since the President made his first vague statement on the violence, blaming the conflicts on “many sides.” The comments also made clear that Trump’s speech on Monday — which vociferously blamed the violence on the “alt-right” and neo-Nazi groups who initiated the protest — was largely a sterilized version of his view.
“I think there is blame on both sides,”Trump said during a contentious back-and-forth with reporters in the lobby of his Midtown Manhattan building.
    “What about the ‘alt-left’ that came charging at, as you say, the ‘alt-right,’ do they have any semblance of guilt?” Trump asked. “What about the fact they came charging with clubs in hands, swinging clubs, do they have any problem? I think they do.”
    He added: “You had a group on one side that was bad and you had a group on the other side that was also very violent. nobody wants to say it, but I will say it right now.”

    ‘Many sides’

    On Saturday, as violence in Charlottesville played out on national television, Trump blamed “many sides” for the conflict. Though that answer was quickly panned by Democrats and Republicans alike, Trump remained silent on Sunday, leaving it to his aides to try to clean up his vague answer. Trump, after mounting pressure that was palpable inside the White House, spoke Monday and condemned the white supremacists and neo-Nazis at the heart of the violence.
    On Tuesday, though, Trump defended his 48-hour delay in denouncing white supremacists, arguing that he took his time because he didn’t know the facts.
    “I wanted to make sure, unlike most politicians, that what I said was correct, not make a quick statement,” Trump said, calling his initial comment a “fine statement.”
    He added: “I don’t want to go quickly and just make a statement for the sake of making a political statement.”
    The President subsequently called the driver of the car that drove through a crowd, killing one woman, a “murderer” then once again blamed both sides for the violence.
    “You can call it terrorism, you can call it murder. You can call it whatever you want,” he said. “The driver of the car is a murderer and what he did was a horrible, horrible, inexcusable thing.”
    “I didn’t wait long. I didn’t wait long. I wanted to make sure, unlike most politicians, that what I said was correct, not make a quick statement,” Trump said Tuesday. “The statement I made on Saturday, the first statement, was a fine statement, but you don’t make statements that direct until you know the facts. It takes a little while to get the facts. You still don’t know the facts and it is a very, very important process to me. It is a very important statement.”
    A senior White House official says chief of staff John Kelly and other top advisers hoped the President would turn a corner Tuesday and talk about infrastructure, but concedes they were entirely wrong.
    “That was all him — this wasn’t our plan,” the official said, speaking confidentially about internal deliberations.
    The President has been fuming in closed-door meetings about what he sees as unfair coverage and those feelings played out on Tuesday.
    Some aides gleefully watched as Trump slammed the “fake news,” but Kelly stood off to the side as Trump spoke, his face stern and his arms crossed.

    Removing Confederate statues

    Trump also warned against nationwide attempts to remove statues to Confederate leaders, arguing that attempts to remove the statue of Robert E. Lee could lead to attempts to remove monuments honoring former Presidents George Washington and Thomas Jefferson.
    “You are changing history, you are changing culture” by taking down statues to past leaders, he said.
    Trump said there were some “very bad people” on both sides, but that there was some who came out to protest the removal of Robert E. Lee’s statue who were “fine people.”
    “You had people in that group that were there to protest the taking down, to them, of a very, very important statue and a renaming of a park from Robert E. Lee to another name,” Trump said.
    Pressed by reporters, Trump raised Washington and Jefferson, arguing there could be a slippery slope.
    “George Washington was a slave owner. So will George Washington lose his status? Are we going to take down statues to George Washington?” he said. “How about Thomas Jefferson, what do you think of Thomas Jefferson, do you like him? OK good. Are we going to take down the statues, because he was a major slave owner? Now are we going to take down his statue?”
    He added: “You know, you really do have to ask yourself, where does it stop?”
    Trump’s slippery slope argument is straight out of the ‘alt-right’ playbook.
    Corey Stewart, an ‘alt-right’ leader and the former Republican gubernatorial candidate turned Senate candidate in Virginia, tweeted in response to Trump on Tuesday, “They won’t stop until all of American history is erased.”

    Touts winery in Virginia

    After leaving the podium, Trump was asked whether he planned to go to Charlottesville. His response, “Does anyone know I own a house in Charlottesville?”
    Trump was referring to his winery in the city.
    “I mean I know a lot about Charlottesville,” he said. “Charlottesville is a great place that has been very badly hurt over the last couple of days.”
    He added: “I own actually one of the largest wineries in the United States, it is in Charlottesville.”

    Read more: http://www.cnn.com/2017/08/15/politics/trump-charlottesville-delay/index.html

    Typecast as a terrorist | Riz Ahmed | The Long Read

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    The Long Read: As my acting job developed, I was no longer cast as a radical Muslim except at the airport

    To begin with, auditions schooled me to get through airports. In the end, it was the other way around. Im an actor. Since I was a girl I have had to play different characters, negotiating the cultural hopes of a Pakistani family, Brit-Asian rudeboy culture, and a scholarship to private school. The fluidity of my own personal identity on any generated date was further compounded by the changing labels assigned to Asians in general.

    As children in the 1980 s, when my brother and I were stopped near our residence by a skinhead who decided to applied a knife to my brothers throat, we were pitch-black. A decade subsequently, the spear to my throat was held by another Paki, a label we wore with swagger in the Brit-Asian youth and gang culture of the 1990 s. The next time I encountered myself as helplessly cornered, it was in a windowless area at Luton airport. My limb was in a distressing wrist-lock and my collar pinned to the wall by British intelligence officers. It was post 9/11, and I was now named a Muslim.

    As a minority , no sooner do you memorize to polish and cherish one chip on your shoulder than its to take away you and swapped for another. The jewellery of your struggles is forever on lend, like the Koh-i-Noor diamond in the crown jewels.You are periodically handed a necklace of labels to hang around your neck, neither of your choosing nor oblige, both choking and decorative.

    Part of the reason I became an actor was the promise that I might be able to help elongate these pendants, and that the teenage version of myself might breath much easier as a result.

    If the films I re-enacted as a kid could humanise monstrosities and aliens, maybe there was hope for us. But depictings of ethnic minorities wreaked in stages, I realised, so Id have to strap in for a long ride.

    Stage one is the two-dimensional stereotype the minicab driver/ terrorist/ cornershop owned. It tightens the necklace.

    Stage two is the subversive depicting, taking place on ethnic terrain but is an attempt to challenge existing stereotypes. It slackens the necklace.

    And stage three is the Promised Land, where you play a attribute whose narration is not intrinsically linked to his race. There, I am not a terror believe , nor a victim of forced marriage. There, my call is likely to be be Dave. In this residence, “were not receiving” necklace.

    I started playing professionally during the post-9/ 11 boom for stage-one stereotypes, but I shunned them at the behest of my 18 -year-old self. Luckily, there was also a minuscule pinpoint of theatre two stuff taking influence, subverting those same stereotypes, and I managed to get in on the act.

    My first movie was in this mode, Michael Winterbottoms The Road to Guantnamo. It told the story of a group of friends from Birmingham “whos” illegally jailed and tortured in the US detainment camp. When it acquired a prestigious accolade at the Berlin film festival, we were euphoric. For those who find it, the inpatients led from orange jumpsuits to human beings.

    But airport security did not get the memo. Returning to the glamour of Luton Airport after our gala winning, ironically appointed British intelligence officers frogmarched me to an unmarked area where they insulted, menaced, and then criticized me.

    What kinda film you realise? Did you become an actor to further the Muslim struggle? an officer bellowed, twisting my arm to the point of snapping.

    The question is ruffling not only because it endangers artistic idiom, but because it intimates our security services dont fairly grasp the nature of the fear menace we all face. A prepare show outlining Al-Qaidas penchant for theatrical strikes may have been taken a bit literally.

    It turned out that what those special branch officers did was illegal. I was asked by activist solicitors if I wanted to sue, but instead I wrote an account of the accident and communicated it to a few journalists. A storey about the illegal detention of the actors from a movie about illegal detention turned out to be too good to ignore. I was glad to molted some light on this depressing state of affairs.

    Ahmed
    Ahmed( left) in The Road to Guantnamo. Image: Allstar/ FilmFour/ Sportsphoto Ltd

    I went on to write a song inspired by the incident, titled Post 9/11 Blues. It was full of sage admonition, such as: Were all supposes so watch your back/ I farted and got arrested for a substance assault. The song got the attention of Chris Morris, who shed me in Four Lions.

    In the end, having my arm roughly torn off by people whose salary I compensate led to me inquiring loads of stagecoach two work loosening the pendant. It felt good, but what about stage 3, the Promised Land?

    It turned out that there was no clear pathway for an actor of colour in the UK to go to stage 3 to performance only a bloke. Creators all said they wanted to work with me, but they had nothing I could feasibly act in. The stories that needed to be told in the multicultural mid-2 000 s were just about the all-white mid-1 700 s, it seemed. I heard rumors that the Promised Land was not in Britain at all, but in Hollywood.

    The reason for this is simple. America utilizes its narratives to export a illusion of itself, just like the UK. The reality of Britain is vibrant multiculturalism, but the superstition we export is an all-white nature of lords and ladies. Conversely, American society is pretty segregated, but the story it exportations is of a racial melting-pot, everyone solving violations and pushing immigrants side by side.

    So America was where I thoughts. But it would not be an easy journey.

    You see, the drawbacks of the audition area and the airport inquisition chamber are the same. They are the locations where the risk of being rejection is real. They are also places where you are reduced to your marketability or threat-level, where the length of your facial fuzz can be a deal-breaker, where you are realise, and hence see yourself, in reductive labels never as exactly a bloke called Dave. The berth 9/11 Necklace stiffens around your neck.

    I had so far managed to avoid this in the audition area, but now I faced the same threat at US airports. It didnt assist that The Road to Guantnamo had left my passport stomped with an Axis of Evil world tour shooting in Pakistan, Afghanistan, and Iran within six months. I spent the flight sweating in defiance of air-conditioning, wondering what the fuck is await me.

    When I property, the polouse analyse me shared my skin colour. I wondered whether this was a good signaling or if he was one of the legendarily patriotic Cuban border detectives I had been hearing, determined to assess how star-spangled I was with a thumb up the anus.

    He looked at my passport, then at me, frowned and drew a big P over my in-migration placard. I immediately thought it stood for Paki.

    Protocol!

    I was produced down a long hallway, without interpretation, before is transformed into a line-up room that appeared instantly familiar.

    Ahmed
    Ahmed( centre) in the film Four Lions, a wit about British homegrown jihadis. Picture: Everett Collection/ REX

    Apart from a Chinese family and a South American aviator duelling the humiliation with his spotless dres, the holding pen was filled with 20 slight discrepancies of my own face, all staring at me kind of like a Bollywood remake of Being John Malkovich. It was a remember: you are a form, whose look says concepts before your opening opens; you are a signifier before you are a person; you are back at theatre one.

    The holding pen likewise had that familiar audition chamber fear. Everyone is apprehensive, but the prospect of solidarity is weakened by rivalry. In such a situation, youre all fighting to graduate out of a reductive torment and into some recognition of your unique personhood. In one way or another you are all saying: Im not like the rest of them.

    The fresh-faced desk detective was no older than 23. By the time I was called up to audition for him, my spiel to explain the passport extinguishes was ready. Id picture a letter from the movies farmer, Id say award-winning film, and Id twinkle a glistening new DVD. But the girl questioning me seemed more nervous than I was. He had apparently been to the same Beware Bloodthirsty Actors forum as the intelligence officers at Luton.

    Step back from the counter!

    I was bounced up the series for a proper interrogation by a dangerously fatty man and his moustache. I sat and awaited, practising my pipelines. When the interrogation came, it was more of a automobile gate-crash than my Slumdog Millionaire audition.

    Oh yeah? Afghanistan? What kinda movie saw you doing there?

    The question fire through me with a chill. It prompted me of the questions I faced at Luton airport, but too of the issue I ask myself all the time.Was I adding to the catalogue of stage one, two, or three? Was it a film my 18 -year-old self wanted? Would it build the necklace looser or tighter?

    I thought about the right way to answer him. The Road to Guantnamo was a documentary-drama, but maybe saying I was in a documentary about Guantnamo Bay wouldnt be wise. Drama should do. I said: Erm, its an award-winning drama announced The Road to Guantnamo.

    There was a long stillnes. He conjured an eyebrow. I offered up the DVD. It had a photo of me handcuffed in an orange jumpsuit on its covering. I immediately regretted it. Longer silence. Second eyebrow goes up. He leaned in.

    Do you know anyone who wants to do harm to the United States?

    I shook my intelligence and formed Hugh Grant interferences, going a gosh! in there somewhere. He assimilated my action before holding up a volume from my luggage. It was Mohsin Hamids novel The Reluctant Fundamentalist.

    Whats this notebook?

    I justified, but he wasnt certainly listening. He distributed a state-of-the-art knowledge protocol by Googling me, which rendered a word clipping about the Luton airport happen. Fuck. My middle sank. This was it. No Hollywood for me. I was never is about to be Brad Pitt. I wasnt even is about to be Apu from the fucking Simpsons. What was I pondering?

    When, after an agonising three hours, I was curved through, I couldnt believe it. I seemed alleviated, grateful, lucky and then suddenly incensed. On the way out past my lookalikes, I demonstrated a loud, As-salaam aliekum . No one leapt to revert the accost. Perhaps they lacked the safety net of a convincing gosh!

    Ahmed
    Ahmed plays the primary reputation Changez in The Willing Fundamentalist. Photo: Alamy Stock Photo

    I met a sidekick in Manhattan for dinner, apologising for being 3 hours belatedly, and zoned out while they explored astrology. Person at the dinner turning now to me.

    Youre such a terrorist, she said.

    I blinked. What the fuck? My look screwed itself into the show I bid Id plucked instead of mewling apologetically at the border officers.

    What the fuck is that supposed to mean?

    My friend put her arm on mine and squeezed.

    Riz, she asked if youre a Sagittarius.

    I withdrew. Baffled faces pinned me with concern.

    Right. Sorry. Yeah. Yes I am, I said.

    A same form of the same happening happened again soon after. And again. And again. And again. I flourished belligerent.

    One officer asked if I had had any military training. My school had a cadet-force program that I was swiftly expelled from, but I only answered yes without expanding. I was asked if I had travelled to Iran, Iraq, or Afghanistan recently.

    All except Iraq, but if it helps Ive too been to Pakistan and Saudi Arabia, I smiled.

    Childish perhaps, but the situation itself is infantilising. Feigning obliviousness to an officers impression and refusing to pander to it was my exclusively defence.

    But the satire reeled on.

    Twice when applying for a US work visa I was subjected to a Area 221 G a interminable background check against a global database of terrorists which virtually lost me the jobs.

    I appreciated the email communication between the state department and my attorney: Hey Bill, looking at your patron Mr Ahmed jolly British-sounding name, huh? Saw his Pole 9/11 Blues song, whats with the I nature Osama routine?

    Fair enough, you are able to conceive. Search him. Gaze at his ethnic profile and his passport stamps and his dangerously humorous rap lyrics. But since I had been let into the US and seen safe precisely the previous month, another spiel this month was obviously fruitless.

    In the end, I was always let in, so these airfield auditions were technically a success. But they involved the experience of being typecast, and when that happens enough, you internalise the character written for you by others. Now, like an over-eager procedure actor, I was struggling to break character.


    I tried not to absorb all the signs telling me I was a suspect. I tried not to buy into the narration nature of this protocol or its stage-one stereotype of who I was. But when you have always moulded your identity to your environment and had your necklace picked out by others, its not easy. I couldnt ensure myself as only a bloke. I miscarried at every single audition I croaked up for.

    Rehearsing a scene plots a role into you. But sometimes if you over-rehearse it without uncovering any new entail in it, they are able to unexpectedly forget your routes. You realise that you are on a stagecoach , not in the real world. The situations emotional power and your submerging in it disappears.

    And so it dawned on me that these huntings were a fictional role-play taking place in a bubble, rather than an evaluation of my worth. This was the way to see it. And it turns out this is also the way to see auditions. The etiquette lost its chokehold on me, and I started get capacities again. One large-scale position self-assured me a proper US visa, and soon I was going brandished through without the protocol. I began inching towards the Promised Land.

    Riz
    Riz Ahmed in The Night Of. Photo: HBO

    Now, both at auditions and airfields, I find myself on the right side of the same velvet lasso by which I was once clothes-lined. But this isnt a success story. I experience most of my fellow Malkoviches still arched back, backbones crouched to snapping as they try to limbo under that line. These daytimes its likely that no one resembles me in the waiting area for the purposes of an playing audition, and the same is true-blue of everyone being curved through with me at US immigration. In both rooms, my exception testifies the rule.

    Dont get me wrong: although my US airfield event is smoother, I still get stopped before boarding a plane at Heathrow every time I operate to the US. But now I find it humorous rather than bruise. Easy for me to laugh with my job visa and strategically distributed gosh !, perhaps. But its also easy in order to be allowed to giggle, because the more I wander, the more stupid the methods used become.

    Heathrow airport draws its staff from the nearby Asian suburb of Hounslow and Southall. My random collection flying to LA was so dependable that as I started advancing more, I went through a six-month unfold of being scoured by the same middle-aged Sikh guy. I instinctively started calling him Uncle, as is the custom for Asian elders. He started announcing me beta , or son, as he went through my luggage apologetically. It was heart-warming, but strayed dangerously close to incest each time he had to frisk my crotch.

    How are you, son?

    Im er, ooh, er, good. Uncle.

    As Ive jaunted more, Ive likewise done more film occupation, increasing the chances of being recognised by the young Asian staff at Heathrow. I have had my films quoted back at me by someone rifling through my underpants, and been asked for selfies by someone swabbing me for explosives.

    The last-place minor who searched me, a young Muslim boy with an immaculate line-beard and goatee, was specially apologetic.

    Sorry bro. If it obliges “youre feeling” any better, they scour me before I hover too.

    We tittered , not because he was joking, but because he was deadly serious. It was the perfect encapsulation of the minoritys shifting and segmented self, was necessary to internalise the limitations imposed on us simply to get by, on the wrong side of the velvet line even when( maybe especially when) youre on the right side of it. We cracked pranks and bumped fists.

    As I left, he called after me with a few questions. Bro, what kinda cinema you doing next?

    I looked at the ID badge fix from a cord around his neck. I told him that I hoped it would be one he liked.

    This essay is extracted from The Good Immigrant, a journal of essays about race and migration in the UK by 21 British pitch-black, Asian and minority ethnic columnists, edited by Nikesh Shukla and boasting contributions from Bim Adewunmi, Salena Godden, Musa Okwonga, Coco Khan, Himesh Patel and more.

    To order a photocopy for 12.29, go to bookshop.theguardian.com or announce 0330 333 6846

    Finally, a white player knelt during an NFL protest the biggest one so far.

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    Monday night’s NFL game between the Cleveland Browns and the New York Giants wasn’t particularly consequential.

    It’s still the pre-season — the games don’t technically count, new players are just getting their feet wet, and the matches unfold with a fraction of the fanfare we’ll see on display in October.

    But if you happened to watch the game at FirstEnergy Stadium on Aug. 21, you may have witnessed a big moment in NFL history.

    The largest NFL national anthem protest to date took place during the game, with nearly a dozen players kneeling in unison.

    The league’s national anthem protests, which began last year, are focused on drawing attention to the social injustices faced by people of color.

    Photo by Joe Robbins/Getty Images.

    Another four athletes showed solidarity with their protesting teammates by standing alongside the huddled group, their hands placed supportingly on the kneeling players’ shoulders.

    As Cleveland’s The Plain Dealer reported, Isaiah Crowell, Duke Johnson, Jabrill Peppers, and Christian Kirksey were among the handful of players who participated. But it was tight end Seth DeValve’s participation that’s especially noteworthy.

    DeValve became the first white NFL player to protest by also kneeling during the national anthem on Monday night.

    “We wanted to do something with our platform,” DeValve told reporters after the game.

    The kneeling players, he explained, chose to pray together instead of stand.

    The Browns’ protest comes almost exactly one year after Colin Kaepernick first made waves for refusing to stand during the national anthem.

    Photo by Scott Cunningham/Getty Images.

    Kaepernick, a former quarterback for the San Francisco 49ers, had been a lone voice on the sidelines then, contributing his refusal to stand to the systemic mistreatment of people of color — particularly when it came to police brutality.

    In the months since, Kaepernick, now a free agent, has had trouble signing with another NFL team. It’s a struggle, many have argued, directly resulting from his protests.

    But the conversation Kaepernick helped get started on the football field shows no signs of fading away.

    The Browns’ protest on Monday may have been the largest to date, but it wasn’t the first of the pre-season games.

    Seattle’s Michael Bennett seemed to have picked up where Kaepernick left off, choosing to sit during the national anthem for his pre-season matches.

    Photo by Stacy Revere/Getty Images.

    “This is what I believe in,” Bennett said of his decision. “Changing society, going into communities, doing organic work, and continuing to push the message that things aren’t fair.”

    Last week, teammate Justin Britt supported Bennett, by standing next to him and placing a hand on his shoulder in solidarity.

    The continued protests are happening at an especially charged moment when it comes to race relations in the U.S.

    It’s only been days since a car driven by a purported white supremacist struck a crowd of protesters in Charlottesville, Virginia.

    The terror attack — which killed 32-year-old Heather Heyer and injured at least 19 others — reflects the state of a country grappling with a growing resurgence of mainstreamed white supremacy and a president hesitant to condemn their ideology.

    “Seeing everything in Virginia and stuff that is going on,” Bennet explained, “I just wanted to be able to use my platform to continuously speak out on injustice.”

    The sports arena has long been a place for social discourse and political expression. It looks like the 2017-2018 NFL season will continue that important tradition.

    Read more: http://www.upworthy.com/finally-a-white-player-knelt-during-an-nfl-protest-the-biggest-one-so-far

    Rob& Chyna: the saddest prove on Tv

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    The format of this painfully dull show is identical to others of the Kardashian empire: interminable situations of beings sitting in kitchens not snacking cheese plates

    Is there a least qualified reality show stellar than Rob Kardashian? If you lined up 10 beings from the casting document of A& Es Intervention and Rob Kardashian and had to choose one to base an ongoing tv series around, would you ever pick him unless you knew his last name? Isnt this a tragedy? Shouldnt we all be more upset?

    Sunday darkness debut of the brand-new E! sequence Rob& Chyna commemorates the income of the black sheep Kardashian to the public eye. Hes expended years of their own lives unwilling to leave his room, which stimulated him to increase( his texts) a grasp of heavines. He ogles less comfortable becoming attention linked with other human beings than the little orphan girl Newt from the movie Aliens. A Los Angeles Dodgers hat covers whats left of the poor people thin, unkempt whisker. His wardrobe contained in T-shirts , nondescript jeans and sneakers. In other words, when I watch this astoundingly depressing platform, I meet myself and what I might become( minus the millions of dollars ).

    The first few minutes of Rob& Chyna intend to represent us sympathize with Rob and his pregnant fiancee Blac Chyna. As an digression, isnt it a bit ghoulish that Blac Chyna goes almost exclusively by the refer Chyna in the first escapade now that the original Chyna the former WWE wrestler has died? Its like ransacking through people jewelry after a funeral.

    Regardless of what you call her, Blac Chyna is the actual virtuoso of this demo, even if her figure is second on the pavilion. She came up from the world-famous airstrip teams of Atlanta and became something of an entrepreneur, at least in the way that we define that message in 2016. She took the Kardashian template of monetizing tabloid notoriety through a cult of personality social media ubiquity, labelled concoctions, and now, the final segment of the question, an E! reality dealership. Shes become a major supporting player in the ongoing Kardashian meta-narrative having a baby with the rapper Tyga, who then leaves her for Kylie Jenner, which leads to Chyna join patrols with Rob. Whether or not her relationship with Rob is genuine or a calculated effort to increase her making potential is not for me to decide (* cough its bullshit cough *) but what is is whether or not this TV show is good. Its not.

    Rob
    Rob& Chyna: led with high winds. Picture: E!

    If your litmus test for protruding with a program is reacting the question does someone fart within the first 10 instants with a yes, then Rob& Chyna is for you. Spoiler alert, Chyna farts in the car. If you prefer a little bit of drama, then maybe flip over to another channel. Or shed your cable carton or streaming machine into the nearest open body of water and walk into the town square. Either one is fine with me.

    The format of this dreadfully dulls show is identical to the other outposts of the Kardashian empire: wearisome vistums of parties driving luxury autoes on featureless superhighways, be standing kitchens not devouring cheese plates, or folding invests for a business trip-up that may or may not ever happen. During these situations, mush-mouthed pod parties debate some ill-defined conflict. Someone needs to go to rehab for a ambiguous difficulty. Someone needs to text someone back about a act that happened off camera. Person feelings disrespected. A party invite is lost in the mail. Watching these displays is like speaking “the worlds largest” banal email thread at 3am. Plug sad-eyed agoraphobe Rob Kardashian into this format and you have a medication for insomnia so potent, the Food and Drug Administration should govern it.

    The ostensible planned of this occurrence is organized around Rob accusing Chyna of texting people behind his back. He says this to be the case because he discovers that Chyna has changed the passcode on her iPhone. He even insinuates that shes hooking up with her ex, Tyga. All of this takes place with Rob spread out comfortably on a bunk. Chyna denies any misbehavior, then alleges Rob of contacting girls behind her back. He apparently declares it, which I vaguely remember before my eyelids glued slam for the night. It must be the case, because the very next vistum is Chyna in another expensive gondola screaming at Rob to stop texting bitches.

    These are the moments one watches world TV for aggressivenes, incoherent outcry and curse. This is why I wish the Andy Cohen Bravo model for reality over the ponderous Ryan Seacrest/ Kris Jenner luxury gabfests. Contrast Rob& Chyna with Bravos Below Deck, currently on the work of its fourth season and with one spinoff under its loop. Below Decks premise is simple: put a knot of attractive deckhands on a mega-yacht, cater them with alcohol, and be fostered to melt down every occurrence. Would you rather watch that or a reveal starring people extremely famed to manufacture proper chumps of themselves for your delight? The rebuttal is, neither, Im a grownup who is too busy lending value to the culture to demean myself with such playthings, but dont worry, I picked the show about yachties drunkenly robbing up too.

    I will say that the producers of Rob& Chyna( which include the titular Rob and Chyna among their ranks) do try to spice events up. Scott Disick appears in the role of Robs only friend in the whole world and his chauffeur, schlepping him around Los Angeles like a pasty white-hot Morgan Freeman from Driving Miss Daisy. Theres a memorable situation where Rob saunters into Chynas home in full Eeyore mode, carrying flowers to apologize for texting bitches. Chyna isnt having it, grabs the flowers, chows them in a kitty, then kicks Rob out of her live. This is the turning point of the suspect narrative, as the rest of the episode concerns Chyna trying to get Rob to text her back, as she has apparently forgetting that she hollered at him to leave her alone while pissing all over his nostalgic gesticulate. Im sure Rob Kardashian, AKA Calabasas Morrissey, really took that well.

    Finally, Kris Jenner, matriarch of the extended Kardashian family and former nemesis of Blac Chyna, appears to counsel Chyna on how to deal with Rob. Jenner is shown to be so shrewd that I half expected her to have grown a beard, picked up a large wand, and hurled on a pointy hat off-screen. Much has been made of how Blac Chyna is so astute and took down the Kardashians by getting engaged to Rob. Thats a neat little underdog narrative, but if you think that Kris Jenner isnt clever enough to use this to her advantage and will be the ultimate winner of this dim-witted race, then you arent paying attention to the present. Thats fine, since it probably constructed you pass out from boredom, but the facts of the case remains that one of the last faces you see in this first chapter is Kris Jenner. The whole moronic project is hers and hers alone. Chyna can have a piece, as long as she offer her taxes to her feudal lord.

    And they are Rob. At last, they found a space to monetize his mopey look and wrinkled clothes. Instead of a Shrek-like soul they continue locked away in a basement, he has his own evidence, which exclusively furthers the attainment of the objectives of their own families. In exchange, this boy who maybe has real clinical depression has to pretend to be a Tv superstar. By collision, E! has stumbled upon the saddest substantiate on tv, so filled with existential desperation that youd assume it was drummed up by a government-funded writer in some mushy Scandinavian country over a bottle of inexpensive scotch. If you watch more than one of the following options escapades, youll maybe find yourself not leaving the house for years, just like Rob Kardashian.

    Miles Teller:’ I detected extremely misrepresented’

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    He survived a automobile accident, lost two friends then detected honour in the Oscar-winning Whiplash. Tim Lewis matches Miles Teller, whose success is shadowed by reports of dickishness

    There are a few rooms you might know Miles Teller, a 29 -year-old actor who is pretty universally thought to be the future of Hollywood. For chin-stroking cineastes, he is the Whiplash boy. That movie, which tells the story of a virtuoso jazz drummer and his sadistic orchestra commander, was so out-of-the-blue bright that, after encountering it, it was hard not to become its personal publicist, imploring sidekicks, even strangers to see it. Manufactured in 19 epoches, for only$ 3 million, it acquired three Oscars, though not for Teller.

    For teenage readers, Teller is Peter, the much-needed comic comfort in the wildly successful Divergent succession, or Mr Fantastic in the much less successful 2015 reboot of the Fantastic Four .

    And then, for cruisers of the Mail Online s Sidebar of Shame, Teller is clickbait notorious as a dick. This suggestion came from an American Esquire cover story that went viral last-place August. The section mocked his swagger confidence and the route he talked about the actors he had in his spates: Ryan Gosling, Christian Bale and Joaquin Phoenix. It was a barbarian, career-jarring take-down and the modern world for you was sent around to many more people than have ever seen Whiplash .

    The question is: is Miles Teller the new Ryan Gosling or even the next De Niro or Pacino? Or is he, excuse the bluntness, a dick? On a Saturday afternoon in August, Teller strides into a swanky inn suite on the 39 th floor thats just about eye level with the clouds. He is in town to promote his new movie, War Dogs , directed against The Hangover s Todd Phillips, but he has shazzy blond whisker from a cinema hes currently hitting with Josh Brolin and Jennifer Connelly, about firefighters tackling a wildfire that raged through Arizona in 2013.

    The Teller story actually begins in the summer of 2007, when, as a 20 -year-old Grateful Dead fan, he was wandering dwelling to Florida from a Deadhead festival announced Gathering of the Vibes. His sidekick was behind the pedal, another was in the back seat, every inch of infinite was jammed with camping paraphernalium. Then, at 80 mph, the car skidded, rushed three thoroughfares of congestion and threw eight occasions. Teller was knocked unconscious and woke up 30 ft from private vehicles, his look contained within blood.

    The guy driving, he was fine, my buddy he was sleeping in the back, Teller recollects. I even had a bag of tomatoes that were fine. Everything was penalty except for my face.

    He laughs, though not with much fervor. At research hospitals he was told he was actually pretty lucky: 99.9% of people spewed from a auto at that quicken would be dead. They secured his broken wrist and made 20 staples in his shoulder; his appearance would require countless laser surgeries, the genu too used for removing tattoos, to make the cuts, he says, relieved in any particular road. The scars on his throat and chin still catch the eye and two boulders remain in his look, embedded late in scar tissue.

    When Teller first went to acting institution, he used to prank that if his hound croaked, that would be the most emotionally wrenching know hed had to endure in their own lives. He comes from a stable, well-to-do pedigree: his father was an designer on a nuclear-power plant; his mother sold real estate. He grew up mainly in a small town in Florida with a modest claim to popularity as the manatee capital of the world. He was effortlessly strong academically, and exceeded at boasts, specially baseball. He started behaving because his drama schoolteacher was pretty red-hot, and landed a plaza at New York Universitys prestigious Tisch School. Then the crash.

    With
    Proliferating up on screen: with Nicole Kidman in Rabbit Hole, his first big break. Picture: Blossom Films/ Sportsphoto Ltd ./ Allstar

    I got in my vehicle coincidence at 20, that was in August, says Teller, sucking on an e-cigarette. Then February that next year, I swerved 21 and seven of my best friends from Florida flew up for my birthday. Then in June, one of those guys, Nick, passed away in a motorcycle collision: a car guided a stop sign and T-boned him. I was at the hospital, he was on life backing, they attracted the plug the next day. A month after that, one my closest pals, my buddy Beau, passed away, again road accidents. And I was actually sitting next to Beau at Nicks funeral. So at my 21 st birthday, seven of my friends are there, five months later, two of them are gone.

    Teller narrates these experiences without histrionics, but the really incongruous area is that auto crashes have subsequently been pivotal in five movies in his short job, perhaps most chillingly in Whiplash , where he is sideswiped, arrives late for a key recital and then bleeds all over his drum paraphernalium. The extend started with his transgres, 2010 s Rabbit Hole , where he played a adolescent who inadvertently leads over and kills the son of a couple played by Nicole Kidman and Aaron Eckhart.

    When I was first auditioning for assignments, theyd say, Miles is a good actor but it doesnt make sense for this persona to have scars, says Teller. But John Cameron Mitchell, the Rabbit Hole head, he loved it. He was like, Its your references secret! I recollect him being like, Miles, I certainly need you to think about your friend Beau right now. And this is in the middle of a give, and youre already as nervous as shit because youre working with Nicole Kidman and its your first movie and shes not talking to you because shes in character.

    With
    With lover Keleigh Sperry. Photo: Gary Gershoff/ WireImage

    Isnt it harrowing to relive these experiences on camera? Itll obviously impact on me for the rest of “peoples lives” for certain, Teller answers. Ive dealt with that shit. If Im in a movie and the guys dealing with the deaths among his buddy once they are overseas at war, or Im dealing with a person now who lost 19 of his sidekicks all at once in this firefighter movie, it does give you a certain stage of reality that, if you hadnt are going through it, you would have to imagine what it would be like. But patently if you went through it, you are closer to it than somebody who hasnt.

    Tellers early occupation, Rabbit Hole excepted, did not clearly herald future greatness. He tended to be casting as a pal of the lead character; the quirky, cocky, fast-talking foil in mostly silly cinemas like 21& Over and Two Night Stand . But he indicated uncommon extent in the superior 2013 nostalgic comedy, The Spectacular Now , sharing the Special Jury Award for Playing at Sundance with his co-star, Shailene Woodley. Then came Whiplash . Teller had done some drum at school, in a church choir and a circle called the Mutes, but for once , no one could accuse him of playing a form of himself. Andrew, his reference, was tortured and self-destructive, mercilessly hazed by a bullying teach( JK Simmons, who prevailed an Oscar for Best Supporting Actor ).

    Im a pretty light-hearted being, says Teller. So how Andrew carried himself physically, how he related to beings, his temperament, all those thoughts couldnt be further from me. But what I liked about that boy was the fact that he was an underdog, youd look right past him, but hes got the heart and the determination as big as anyone.

    Tellers favourite vistum was when Andrew charges from behind the containers to flatten his tormentor. JK cracked a rib, he laughs. Im not proud of it, but after a guys slapping you and shrieking at you for three weeks straight-from-the-shoulder, its nice to finally as a reference, Im speaking! I always delved that scene because he precisely ultimately snaps.

    And at least Simmons can take comfort from his Academy Award. Teller expels a plume of smoking, He owes me one, for sure.

    The sense that Teller gets by on attractivenes and wisecracks still imbues. Todd Phillips, his director in War Dogs , says, I recall Miles is a world-class actor. Its almost as if he doesnt “re trying”. I dont mean that in a negative style; hes simply naturally endowed. Its amazing to watch.

    When I read this compliment back to him, Teller writhes at the doesnt “re trying” fraction. Thats annoying! he says. Its frustrating when people say that because relevant actors greatest implement is his readying and Ive always felt like I do just as much prep as anybody.

    Miles
    His award-winning accomplishment in The Spectacular Now, with Brie Larson. Photograph: Allstar/ A24

    War Dogs , though, is something of a leaving for Teller. The movie tells the jaw-dropping true narration of two stoner 20 -somethings from Florida who become arms suppliers for the US government. It is set in 2007, and as conflicts rumble on in Iraq and Afghanistan, the friends one a high-school dropout, the other who not long before had been a massage healer triumph a $300 m contract to kit out the Afghan National Army. The transaction does not exactly go to project, which sees it rich comic domain for Phillips, whose Hangover trilogy grossed more than $1.4 billion globally.

    Jonah Hill hogs most of the best pipelines as Efraim, the charismatic, larger-than-life dropout, while Teller is more understated and morally endangered as David, the masseur-turned-gunrunner.

    David came from Miami, who have not been able be more different from where I grew up, like the sticks in Florida, out in the timbers, says Teller. But in some ways we were in very similar circumstances at that age. Like he plays guitar, I play guitar. I smoked a ton of pot, as did David. I dont know if Id have been able to go into meetings like David did. I did not do that shit when I was high. That was not my entertainment.

    With his languid bringing and sleepy eyes, its not hard to suppose Teller as a caner. I was inhaling multiple times a day every day youre in theatre school in New York, do it! he exclaims. But I slowed down on it and truly stopped for a while because my busines started starting and I didnt want to mess it up when I was high. If person mailed me an email, I didnt want to respond and apparently you cant do that shit.

    But now things are going well, surely he can whack himself out? Yeah, he smiles, Im kind of easing back into it.

    If Teller could have been forgiven for being crotchety with reporters, post- Esquire , he isnt at least not today. He is employed, wry and opinionated, especially on gun control in the Country and the mental health of soldiers recalling from war. Weve known how to send guys to crusade eternally, but we really dont has been able to “re coming back” yet, he says, citing a statistic that there are 22 veterans is suicide every day in the US. Hes clearly self-confident about his make, which could be interpreted as dickishness, but then he is an ambitious and versatile performer, as gifted as anyone in his age range. Id likewise note that paraphrases that can read a little bald-headed in periodical are often more archly and winningly expressed in person.

    Miles
    Playing a jazz drummer in Whiplash. Photo: Moviestore/ REX

    Teller might behave bulletproof, but its obvious that the Esquire narration certainly stung him. Oh, I find frickin helpless, I experienced highly misinterpreted, I detected a bit indignant, he says, his expression virtually cracking. For the average person, they are speaking this article, they havent assemble you, theyre like, Oh Miles is an asshole. You didnt hear it? You didnt speak that Esquire ? Yeah, she said he was an asshole he must be!

    Id say that you get a little more guarded but Im actually not, he goes on. Certain times Ill choose my words very carefully and perhaps come off a little more boring. But I also think thats why people certain people do relate to me: because there is no schedule, honestly. I was promoted middle-class in a small town. I have all my same friends from high school. Im close with my family. Im dating a normal daughter. So I want to feel beings envision Im a gentleman of the people. Because I feel that way.

    The ordinary girl is a bit of a strain Keleigh Sperry, his girlfriend of three years, is a simulation but the spot sits. Teller is to report to a lot of great actors; the one whom he calls to mind for me is Tom Hanks.

    Hanks, more, beginning in lightweight comedies, before growing into more mature everyman-ish parts and advocacy: both men are outspoken on its external debt they owe to the US military. Tellers forthcoming roles a boxer who recovered from a separated cervix suffer under yes, a vehicle accident; a soldier with PTSD; a hero firefighter; an Elvis Presley biopic down the line hint at the direction hes taking.

    Times up; Teller has wildfires to put out. He smiles warmly, clasps my hands and goes to leave the room. At the door he stops and returns back: If I read this and you call me an asshole, Im going to be so pissed off.

    War Dogs is out on 26 August

    Rob& Chyna: the saddest picture on TV

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    The format of this dreadfully dull show is identical to other persons of the Kardashian empire: wearisome backgrounds of beings sitting in kitchens not eating cheese plates

    Is there a least qualified reality demo star than Rob Kardashian? If you lined up 10 people from the casting record of A& Es Intervention and Rob Kardashian and had to choose one to base an ongoing television series around, would you ever pick him unless you knew his last name? Isnt this a tragedy? Shouldnt we all be more unnerved?

    Sunday nights debut of the brand-new E! line Rob& Chyna labels the comeback of the black sheep Kardashian to the public eye. Hes wasted years of his life unwilling to leave his room, which caused him to gain( his terms) a grasp of weight. He ogles little comfortable inducing seeing contact with other human beings than the little orphan daughter Newt from the movie Aliens. A Los Angeles Dodgers hat covers whats left of the poorest of the poor guys thin, unkempt mane. His wardrobe contained in T-shirts , nondescript jeans and sneakers. In other texts, when I watch this astoundingly depressing curriculum, I experience myself and what I might become( minus the millions of dollars ).

    The first few minutes of Rob& Chyna intend to build us empathize with Rob and his pregnant fiancee Blac Chyna. As an digression, isnt it a bit grisly that Blac Chyna proceeds almost entirely by the identify Chyna in the first escapade now that the original Chyna the former WWE wrestler has died? Its like rummaging through people jewelry after a funeral.

    Regardless of what you call her, Blac Chyna is the actual star of this indicate, even if her name is second on the pavilion. She came up from the world-famous airstrip fraternities of Atlanta and grew something of an entrepreneur, at least in the way that we characterize that word in 2016. She took the Kardashian template of monetizing tabloid villainy through a sect of identity social media ubiquity, branded commodities, and now, the final segment of the problem, an E! world franchise. Shes become a major supporting player in the ongoing Kardashian meta-narrative having a baby with the rapper Tyga, who then leaves her for Kylie Jenner, which leads to Chyna link personnels with Rob. Whether or not her relationship with Rob is genuine or a calculated effort to increase her deserving potential is not for me to decide (* cough its bullshit cough *) but what is is whether or not this Tv show is good. Its not.

    Rob
    Rob& Chyna: started with high winds. Photograph: E!

    If your litmus test for putting with a programme designed is answering the question does someone fart within the first 10 hours with a yes, then Rob& Chyna is for you. Spoiler alert, Chyna farts in the car. If “youd prefer” a bit of drama, then maybe flip over to another path. Or hurl your cable container or streaming invention into the nearest open body of water and stray into the town square. Either one is fine with me.

    The format of this dreadfully monotonous show is identical to the other outposts of the Kardashian empire: interminable situations of people driving luxury gondolas on featureless freeways, sitting around kitchens not chewing cheese sheets, or folding robes for a business trip that may or may not ever happen. During these panoramas, mush-mouthed pod beings debate some ill-defined conflict. Someone needs to go to rehab for a ambiguous question. Somebody must text person back about a circumstance that happened off camera. Person tones disrespected. A party invite is lost in the mail. Watching these reveals is like speaking the most banal email thread at 3am. Plug sad-eyed agoraphobe Rob Kardashian into this format and you have a medication for insomnia so potent, the Food and Drug Administration should govern it.

    The ostensible scheme of this escapade revolves around Rob accusing Chyna of texting guys behind his back. He swears this to be the case because he discovers that Chyna has changed the passcode on her iPhone. He even insinuates that shes hooking up with her ex, Tyga. All of this takes home with Rob spread out comfortably on a berth. Chyna disavows any wrongdoing, then accuses Rob of contacting girls behind her back. He apparently declares it, which I vaguely remember before my eyelids glued closed for the night. It must be the case, because the very next incident is Chyna in another expensive gondola screaming at Rob to stop texting bitches.

    These are the moments one watches actuality TV for belligerence, incoherent yell and curse. This is why I wish the Andy Cohen Bravo model for reality over the ponderous Ryan Seacrest/ Kris Jenner indulgence gabfests. Contrast Rob& Chyna with Bravos Below Deck, currently on the work of its fourth season and with one spinoff under its region. Below Decks premise is simple: introduce a knot of attractive deckhands on a mega-yacht, ply them with booze, and be fostered to melt down every escapade. Would you preferably watch that or a demonstrate starring people too famous to establish proper morons of themselves for your delight? The explanation is, neither, Im a grownup who is too busy lending importance to the culture to demoralize myself with such trifles, but dont worry, I picked the show about yachties drunkenly fixing up too.

    I will say that the producers of Rob& Chyna( which include the titular Rob and Chyna among their ranks) do try to spice events up. Scott Disick appears in the role of Robs only friend in the entire world and his chauffeur, schlepping him around Los Angeles like a pasty grey Morgan Freeman from Driving Miss Daisy. Theres a memorable situation where Rob steps into Chynas home in full Eeyore mode, carrying flowers to apologize for texting bitches. Chyna isnt having it, grabs the flowers, grubs them in a pool, then kicks Rob out of her residence. This is the turning point of the alleged storey, as the rest of the occurrence concerns Chyna trying to get Rob to text her back, as she has seemingly forgetting that she bellowed at him to leave her alone while pissing all over his romantic gesticulate. Im sure Rob Kardashian, AKA Calabasas Morrissey, truly took that well.

    Finally, Kris Jenner, matriarch of the expansive Kardashian family and former nemesis of Blac Chyna, appears to counsel Chyna on how be addressed with Rob. Jenner is shown to be so shrewd that I half expected her to have grown a whisker, picked up a large twig, and hurled on a pointy hat off-screen. Much has been made of how Blac Chyna is so clever and took down the Kardashians by getting engaged to Rob. Thats a neat little underdog narrative, but if you think that Kris Jenner isnt inventive enough to use this to her advantage and will be the eventual winner of this dim-witted competition, then you arent paying attention to the depict. Thats fine, since it probably established you pass out from apathy, but the facts of the case remains that one of the last faces you see in this first occurrence is Kris Jenner. The whole stupid firm is hers and hers alone. Chyna can have a piece, as long as she pays her taxes to her feudal lord.

    And they are Rob. At last, they found a path to monetize his mopey appearance and wrinkled clothes. Instead of a Shrek-like soul they keep locked away in a basement, he has his own demo, which only furthers the aims of their own families. In exchange, this male who perhaps has real clinical depression has to pretend to be a TV adept. By coincidence, E! has stumbled upon the saddest picture on tv, so fitted with existential hopelessnes that youd premise it was drummed up by a government-funded scribe in some soggy Scandinavian country over a bottle of inexpensive scotch. If you watch more than one of these escapades, youll maybe find yourself not leaving the house for years, just like Rob Kardashian.

    8 Original Boy Scout Badges Modern Adults Couldn’t Earn

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    I was a Boy Scout, and though I could never muster the energy to get involved in my community enough to make Eagle rank, I definitely remember the Merit Badges. The best scouts had a sash full of ’em. The more you had, the more likely your Dad was the Scoutmaster. It was a cool idea, but some of them were too easy to get. For example, the one for Engineering asks you to list ten electrical appliances in your house. It’s not much of a challenge when one of the requirements is literally “write down the contents of your kitchen.”

    In 1911, though, things were a little different. I accidentally stumbled upon the original Boy Scout handbook, and the requirements for some of the William Taft-era merit badges vary from mundane insanity to the regular kind of insanity. We’ve already discussed how badass the Scouts used to be, but after reading this list, I understand that you had to be a major badass to simply survive getting your merit badges. Badges like..

    8

    Agriculture – Grow A Fucking Acre Of Corn

    A common staple among 1911 badges is bullshit requirements, asking you to “be able” to do something without actually proving you can do it. The first Merit Badge for Agriculture is a good example:

    3. Be able to identify and describe common weeds of the community and tell how best to eliminate them.

    4. Be able to identify the common insects and tell how best to handle them.

    5. Have a practical knowledge of plowing, cultivating, drilling, hedging, and draining.

    6. Have a working knowledge of farm machinery, haymaking, reaping, loading, and stacking.

    It asks Scouts to know some basics about crop husbandry, and that’s about it. There’s not even any quantitative guides given. I’m sure I could name a handful of insects and weeds and the ways to handle them (mosquitoes, ants, daffodils; BURN THEM ALL!). I don’t know dick about haymaking and reaping, which, at first glance, sound less like farming terms and more like the Mass Effect: Andromeda quests that I always ignore.

    Oops, I skipped steps 1 and 2. Let’s me just scroll up and see-

    1. State different tests with grains.

    2. Grow at least an acre of corn which produces 25 per cent. better than the general average.

    Holy shit. The first Boy Scouts had to grow a fucking acre of corn to get this badge? I’m not even a hundred percent sure how much that is, but unless you already own a working farm, that’s like … impossible right? I just looked it up. An acre is 16 tennis courts. 16 tennis courts of corn. And if your Dad was a farmer, everyone would know you just cheated. I mean, how would you grow any cornfield bigger than a garden without that infrastructure already in place? “At least an acre.” That’s the bare minimum, boys. Sorry about any other activities that you wanted to take part in this year.

    I didn’t even mention that apparently this child would have to produce a yield 25 percent better than the general average. So what if little Jimmy produces corn at 24 percent better than the general average? Guess what, you just wasted 60 to 100 days planting and harvesting 40 bushels of corn. Fuck you, Jimmy. No merit badge for you. Try again next crop.

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    Angling – Catch 10 Fish With Homemade Rods

    Now, I have some country in me. I’ve been to Maine. I’ve fished before. But my fishing rods had cartoon sharks on them. I have no idea how to do any of this.

    To obtain a merit badge for Angling a scout must

    1. Catch and name ten different species of fish: salmon or trout to be taken with flies; bass, pickerel, or pike to be caught with rod or reel, muskallonge to be caught by trolling.

    2. Make a bait rod of three joints, straight and sound, 14 oz. or less in weight, 10 feet or less in length, to stand a strain of 1-1/2 lbs. at the tip, 13 lbs. at the grip.

    3. Make a jointed fly-rod 8-10 feet long, 4-8 ozs. in weight, capable of casting a fly sixty feet.

    Look, at it’s most basic a fishing rod is just a spooled line attached to a stick, but it seems like you need some pretty specific materials to make rods to these specifications. At least when we had to build Pinewood Derby cars, the Boy Scouts conveniently had building kits (rectangular blocks of wood and some plastic wheels) ready-to-buy. Can’t give these kids a stack of prepared wood to work from, or, well, anything, for that matter?

    Oh, and you need to go catch ten different fish, and only in certain ways. God help you if you catch a trout with a reel, or a muskallonge without posting Internet comments.

    4. Name and describe twenty-five different species of fish found in North American waters and give a complete list of the fishes ascertained by himself to inhabit a given body of water.

    Next time you are near a body of water, please peer down into the depths and give me a complete list of every fish hiding in there. Don’t cheat, or we’ll knock you back down to Cub level.

    6

    Archery – Recreate The “Blot Out The Sun” Scene From 300

    Archery has always been a staple of Boy Scout camps and the most boring portions of the Olympics. Today, there is a surprising amount of technology involved, much more than there was in 1911. So it’s puzzling that one of the steps to get this badge back then (after making your own bow, of course!) was to practically recreate that scene from 300 where the Persians blot out the sun with their arrows.

    To obtain a merit badge for Archery a scout must

    1. Make a bow and arrow which will shoot a distance of one hundred feet with fair precision.

    2. Make a total score of 350 with 60 shots in one or {25} two meets, using standard four-foot target at forty yards or three-foot target at thirty yards.

    3. Make a total score of 300 with 72 arrows, using standard target at a distance of fifty yards.

    4. Shoot so far and fast as to have six arrows in the air at once.

    Here’s Lars Andersen, a master archer from Denmark claiming to break the world record for having the most arrows in the air at once before one comes down. He gets 11 up there before the first one hits the grass, in about seven seconds. That’s with a modern bow and arrow from what I assume is at least a mid-grade bow and arrow store. The Boy Scout Manual wants these kids to get to half of the world record from 100 years in the future with a goddamn homemade bow. The first time traveler will be a Boy Scout from the early 1900s, desperate to meet the ludicrous standards of a mad book that is trying to kill him.

    5

    Architecture – Design A House To The Standards Of A Contractor

    Scouting requires a lot of hands-on training. You’ll learn how to tie knots, whittle sticks, and … design a two-story house, apparently.

    To obtain a merit badge for Architecture a scout must

    1. Present a satisfactory free-hand drawing.

    2. Write an essay on the history of Architecture and describe the five orders.

    3. Submit an original design for a two-story house and tell what material is necessary for its construction, giving detailed specifications.

    1911 wasn’t exactly devoid of two-story houses, so good luck creating an original design that isn’t some kind of Frank Lloyd Wright monstrosity. What kinda house would an eleven-year-old boy build anyway? The staircases would be made out of roller coasters. It wouldn’t be “right.” But don’t forget to detail every single material that you plan on using, even if it’s fucking Gingerbread.

    While you have all those building materials handy, you can probably grab Pioneering while you’re at it, which only requires you to construct a whatever-the-fuck three-person shack next to your two story house and then build a modern bridge between ’em.

    4. Build a modern bridge or derrick.

    5. Make a camp kitchen.

    6. Build a shack of one kind or another suitable for three occupants.

    Or a derrick if that’s too hard. Do you guys know what a derrick is? It’s this thing:

    Egeswender/Wiki Commons

    At this point, I’m pretty sure the Eiffel Tower was knocked out by a boy scout over the weekened, so he could get started on his “discover perpetual motion” badge.

    4

    Civics – Harder Than The U.S. Citizenship Test

    When it comes to local politics, the most advanced information you have to know for your modern Citizenship badges is who your Congressmen are. And depending on how much Fox News your Dad watches, you probably already know their nicknames. Back in the day though? You better be able to rattle off every elected official that represents you and draw a map to all their offices, probably so you could find them and apologize for your sudden, rampant corn planting and for decimating the local fish population.

    6. Know how the governor, lieutenant-governor, senators, representatives, or assemblymen of his state are elected, and their terms of office.

    7. Know whether the judges of the principal courts in his state are appointed or elected, and the length of their terms.

    8. Know how the principal officers in his town or city are elected and for what terms.

    9. Know the duties of the various city departments, such as fire, police, board of health, etc.

    10. Draw a map of the town or city in which he lives, giving location of the principal public buildings and points of special interest.

    I could probably stumble through step 6 with some hints, but then you’ve lost me. If I’ve ever voted for a judge in my life, it was by accident. I’m pretty sure my town is run by a board of selectmen, but I have no idea what that even means and wouldn’t recognize them if I hit one with my car. Unless you are insanely politically active (you know the ones by their Facebook feeds) there is simply no way the average American adult would know this stuff. The only reason I know where the town hall is is because of my yearly dog license fee.

    To obtain a merit badge for Civics a scout must

    1. State the principal citizenship requirements of an elector in his state.

    2. Know the principal features of the naturalization laws of the United States.

    3. Know how President, Vice-President, senators, and congressmen of the United States are elected and their terms of office.

    4. Know the number of judges of the Supreme Court of the United States, how appointed, and their term of office.

    5. Know the various administrative departments of government, as represented in the President’s Cabinet.

    Even the top-level info is pretty tricky. Who are the electors? Are they elected or chosen? (Am … am I an elector??). Don’t get me wrong, all of this stuff is actually really important to know, and the fact that little boys were expected to know this 100 years ago explains a lot about our current predicament. But it’s hard to condemn our citizens’ ignorance when I’m not convinced our own President knows the various administrative departments of government.

    3

    First Aid – Treat Actual Horrific Injuries

    This can’t be too bad. You make a sling, and you go home, right …

    2. Carry a person down a ladder.

    Hold on. This doesn’t say “demonstrate” or “explain how to.” You actually have to do it. A preteen boy has to carry a person (things that typically weigh as much as an average person) down a freakin’ ladder? The Hell does that even have to do with First Aid? I feel like just this is enough to warrant its own “Break Your Own Spine” merit badge.

    3. Bandage head and ankle.

    4. Demonstrate treatment of wound of the neck with severe arterial hemorrhage.

    5. Treat mangling injury of the leg without severe hemorrhage.

    6. Demonstrate treatment for rupture of varicose veins of the leg with severe hemorrhage.

    What the … are they are all like this? Unless they add “10. Call 911, before passing out at the sight of blood” right now, I am not going to be able to check off a single one of these.

    2

    Ornithology – Find Every Goddamn Bird In Your Neighborhood

    It’s birdwatching. How fucking hard could that be?

    To obtain a merit badge for Ornithology a scout must

    1. Have a list of one hundred different kinds of birds personally observed on exploration in the field.

    2. Have identified beyond question, by appearance or by note, forty-five different kinds of birds in one day.

    Oh OK. You just have to sit around waiting for every species of bird in your neighborhood to come strolling on by like it’s Pokemon Snap. There aren’t 100 different birds at the zoo, let alone in my damn backyard. The badges for Forestry, Mining, and Stalking require an equally ridiculous observation of trees, minerals, and shrubs, respectively. You know, just in case the meandering obsession of Birdwatching wasn’t enough and you’re in the market for more bullshit counting.

    And don’t even think about mis-characterizing a white-throated sparrow as a tufted titmouse. This shit needs to be beyond question, folks. Forty-five birds in one day. 100 percent accuracy. The rest of this list comes off like it’s a script that eventually reveals the Scoutmaster to be the bad guy .

    3. Have made a good clear photograph of some wild bird, the bird image to be over one half inch in length on the negative.

    “What?! You found 45 birds? FINE! Try taking a perfect picture of one!”

    4. Have secured at least two tenants in bird boxes-

    “Damn! Oh ya? Good luck capturing … TWO birds in boxes! AHAHA!”

    4. Have secured at least two tenants in bird boxes erected by himself.

    “-AND BUILD THE BOXES YOURSELF!”

    5. Have daily notes on the nesting of a pair of wild birds from the time the first egg is laid until the young have left the nest.

    “Nooo! Bet you can’t catch some bird parents in the act of giving birth and then stalk them every day until all the kids have moved out of the house!”

    6. Have attracted at least three kinds of birds, exclusive of the English sparrow, to a “lunch counter” which he has supplied.

    “That’s … that’s impossible … Here … take the damn badge. If … you convince three of them to have lunch with you. And NO SPARROWS OR IT’S BACK TO START!”

    1

    Pathfinding – Become a Walking GPS

    A badge like Pathfinding is a great example of something that is both essential to what Scouting is all about and has unfortunately been made completely obsolete by today’s technology. It has since been merged into the more couch-friendly Exploration badge, but the original version asked Scouts to become a walking GPS.

    To obtain a merit badge for Pathfinding a scout must

    1. Know every lane, by-path, and short cut for a distance of at least two miles in every direction around the local scouts’ headquarters in the country.

    2. Have a general knowledge of the district within a five mile radius of his local headquarters, so as to be able to guide people at any time, by day or night.

    3. Know the general direction and population of the five principal neighboring towns and be able to give strangers correct directions how to reach them.

    I’d be impressed if someone knew all of the shortcuts in Mario Kart. I’d be really impressed if someone knew the location of every Target within five miles. And I’d be fucking floored if I mused aloud in my driveway where the nearest damn Wendy’s was while fumbling with my phone, and a little boy in a uniform came out of the bushes, gave me the exact street directions complete with shortcuts, and walked away into the shadows.

    In addition, this Merit Badge requires Scouts to somehow count the number of cattle and horses at all the nearby farms, know the history of every public building in his town, and then put all of the above on a map. So yeah, walking GPS, library, and local farm trespasser.

    Well, there you have it. The eight hardest OG Merit Badges. I’d bet my WEBELOS neckerchief that no modern Boy Scout could get any of these. If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go try and finish up my Personal Health badge, the only way God intended:

    4. Describe the effect of alcohol and tobacco on the growing boy.

    Chris has a brand new party game that you can download for free right here. Look for it on Facebook, too!

    Read more: http://www.cracked.com/blog/8-badges-that-prove-original-boy-scouts-were-badasses/

    West Virginians struggle for answers in America’s worst reach opioid epidemic nation

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    Lack of opportunity and anguish are widely regarded as a driving force behind the opioid epidemic in a state where most agree politicians arent doing enough

    In the end, there were just too many reputations. The toll of the dead was to have been spoken on the steps of West Virginia’s capitol building, in the regime worst hit by America’s opioid epidemic. Misty Hopkins, Ryan Brown and Jessie Grubb were among them.

    But by the time overdose awareness daytime was held on Saturday, more than 1,000 figures of those killed by prescription drugs, heroin or artificial opioids had been submitted.

    ” There was not feasible we are to be able read a thousand mentions ,” said organiser Cece Brown, whose son Ryan expired of a heroin overdose. So the calls were coated on to violet commemoration canvasses. On the steps of the capitol, families and friends lined up the shoes of the lost.

    Kaylen Barker put down three duos, for her brother, her sister and a pal of her spouse. Barker, 29, counted about 15 opioid deaths in her high school graduation year.

    ” There’s a lot of people who I graduated with that are addicted ,” she said.” High academy cheerleaders that have been picked up for prostitution to feed their drug habits. You’ll be hard pressed to find their own families in this state that hasn’t been directly impacted by craving .”

    Barker said she was scared off hard drugs by other deaths.” In high school there was a quadruple murder in Huntington on prom night ,” she said.” They supposed it was a drug-related issue. I knew three of the four parties that died. I went to high school with one of them. So that kind of took me in a different direction .”

    Stephanie Hopkins had two photographs of her younger sister, Misty, pinned to the figurehead of her T-shirt above the year of her death: 31 May 2015. Misty fell into addiction after a vehicle gate-crash at persons under the age of 16. She was prescribed the powerful sedative OxyContin, which kickstarted the epidemic that are currently claiming around 50,000 lives a year. Misty became a nurse but the pills had released a coerce she could not shake.

    ” That dose took over their own lives ,” said Hopkins.” She couldn’t do anything without it. She satisfied this person and he acquainted her to the needle. She was on heroin about five years. She lost her undertaking .”

    Misty was killed at the age of 37 by an extremely powerful artificial opioid, fentanyl, laced into a batch of heroin. Overdoses from fentanyl have risen sharply in the town over the past two years, including the mass overdose of 27 parties in four hours from a single batch of heroin last year.

    For many kinfolks, with memorial comes frustration at what they regard as the phlegm of legislators as the epidemic ballooned.

    Stephanie
    Stephanie Hopkins wearing a T-shirt bringing her sister Misty’s picture. Misty was a nurse who died of a heroin overdose. On the back of the T-shirt are the names of eight beings Stephanie knows who have died from opioid overdoses. Picture: Chris McGreal for the Guardian

    Even now, with Donald Trump and governors in Congress saying it is a priority, relatives of victims are sceptical. Republican want to cut Medicaid and scrap Obamacare, which have provided at least some access to treatment.

    ” I don’t think we have the support in Congress ,” said Brown.” Clearly not. If we had the support in Congress we wouldn’t be talking about cutting back on Medicaid. You don’t pull the carpeting out from under these tribes who need help .”

    In West Virginia, legislators continue to cut the education budget in a state where shortage of opportunity and despair are widely regarded as a driving force behind the opioid outbreak. The parliament passed laws for medicine cores but did not store them.

    ” There’s a lot of talking here missing smaller government and less money but we’re in this mess and we need assist ,” said Brown.” We exactly have to have compassion and not grow our backs on beings .”

    Brown invited the state’s elected legislators to come to Saturday’s event, but exclusively two turned up and no one from the governor’s office. David Grubb, a former senator in the West Virginia legislature who laid a duet of pink and purple running shoes to recollect his daughter Jessie, said legislators shied away from taking the epidemic gravely because of the stigma around addiction.

    ” I think it’s a really sad thought ,” he said.” But the crisis has to reach critical mass and all of a sudden people say,’ Oh my God, why is this happening ?’ And “theyre starting” attaches great importance .”

    Grubb said West Virginia does not have the money to fund addiction treatment on the scale expected, even with a increase from a $ 36 m law village with two main dope distributors this year.

    ” One of the states that’s richest in national resources is one of the most severe in terms of social services, public education, all of that ,” he said.” It’s a perversion that we have allowed the powers that be- which tend to be coal, oil and gas- to reap incredible earnings from this district and not put back enough to fully fund the infrastructure that we need.

    ” Right now we’re trying to build this therapy core here in Charleston and it’s like plucking teeth determining coin. Everybody’s very excited, thinks it’s a wonderful meaning. But nobody’s said,’ Here’s the money .'”

    Grubb does examine set to claim one important victory.

    His daughter, Jessie, became addicted to heroin after she was sexually assaulted in college.” Her brain became a different circumstance when it was in the throes of craving ,” he said.” She was unrecognisable. Stealing. Lying. Cheating. Who is this person ?”

    Jessie shifted in and out of craving, but she was clean when she went into hospital for a routine hip procedure for a running injury. Her medical record memo she was healing from craving but it was buried amid other datum. The exhausting doctor didn’t see it and prescribed her 50 opioid anaesthetics.

    Grubb believes Jessie should not have been prescribed them at all, and that 50 is method above what any normal being would need. The doctor said it was more handy. Jessie inaugurated taking them and the crave kicked back in. The capsules killed her.

    West Virginia senator Joe Manchin read about Jessie’s death and expected Grubb how he could help. The make was legislation , now driving its lane through Congress, necessitating medical records to prominently display if someone is a regaining admirer in the same space they find themselves differentiated if individual patients is allergic to penicillin. It has the backing of Trump’s opioid commissioning.

    ” I was really surprised by that because I had not anticipated any support from the administration in that route ,” Grubb said.” So it does have some impetu. If it does pass, then I think we really will save lives .”

    Jerry Lewis’ Cause Of Death Revealed

    0

    He will be missed.

    As

    According to TMZ, the legendary comedian, actor, and philanthropist died from heart failure. The Clark County Nevada Coroner said The Errand Boy star suffered from ischemic cardiomyopathy, where his heart was unable to pump blood to other parts of his body.

    Insiders say there will be no autopsy because Lewis was under doctor’s care.

    R.I.P. Jerry.

    [Image via C.Smith/WENN.]

    Read more: http://perezhilton.com/2017-08-21-jerry-lewis-cause-of-death-las-vegas