It t would take a colossal dash cam—rolling 24 hours a day, filming in Cinerama, capturing it all in surround sound—to retain all the Donald Trump and Russia news that sailed by this week. As Air Force One carried Trump to the Middle East and Europe in the first big trip of his presidency, the images broadcast back home made him look like the star of a musical comedy directed by Robert Altman. There was some goofy sword dancing in Saudi Arabia, gaffe-ing in Israel, where he said he hadn’t said “Israel” to the Russians, and some body-control issues in Brussels as he dispensed semi-secret handshakes, under-basket elbows and lectures to befuddled European leaders who shunned him.
This was the week that the seeds of scandal and ineptitude planted over the past six months finally sprouted their first shoots, wrapping green tendrils around the president’s ankles and around the throats of his aides, yanking them to earth. This was the week the idea that Trump could stall or outrun his tormentors was put to rest as two congressional committees, one special counsel, the FBI and the deep state pressed him from every angle. Trump is now caught in history’s grinder, and the sparks and noise emitted are lighting up the media universe.
I like to leave at the end of the day. You can’t really leave if you don’t go in. When I work from home, there’s a casino effect: I don’t see people arrive or take off for the day, and without the natural rhythms of other humans I tap away for hours until it’s 6 p.m., 7 p.m., 8, because if other people are still online I should probably be too. Their green chat statuses blink like an accusation, a reminder that any activities and people in your off hours can and should be sacrificed on the corporate altar of productivity, all soft and small autonomies forever second to the god of industry.
Early on, Solov’s prediction seemed to be coming true. “Breitbart News is the #45th most trafficked website in the United States, according to rankings from Amazon’s analytics company, Alexa.com,” they wrote on January 9, 2017. “With over two billion pageviews generated in 2016 and 45 million unique monthly visitors, Breitbart News has now surpassed Fox News (#47), Huffington Post (#50), Washington Post (#53), and Buzzfeed (#64) in traffic.” A month later, the site had even greater cause to celebrate. “Breitbart News is now the 29th most trafficked site in the United States, surpassing PornHub and ESPN,” they crowed. In the article, its staffers bragged that their bonkers traffic reflected the site’s cementing a permanent place in American politics. “The numbers speak for themselves,” said Solov. (Many outlets, including The Hive, experienced traffic peaks around Trump’s inauguration.)
Just a few months later, the numbers have a different story to tell. As of May 26, 2017, according to Alexa.com—the same web-ranking analytics company that Breitbart drew its numbers from in January—Fox News is the 64th most-trafficked site in the country. Huffington Post is at 60. Buzzfeed is at 50. The Washington Post, on the strength of a series of eye-popping scoops, is at 41.
Breitbart is in 281st place.
Measuring web traffic is an inexact art, but other web-analytics companies reflect a similar, unusually steep decline in Breitbart’s traffic. ComScore estimated that Breitbart had nearly 23 million unique visitors during the month of November 2016, but only drew 10.7 million in April 2017, a 53 percent drop. Last month, the site had fewer visitors than it did in April 2016, when 12.3 million people visited the site. In contrast, the four sites that Breitbart benchmarked itself against saw nowhere near that drop—and, in the case of both Fox News and Buzzfeed, saw small increases in traffic since the November election.
From here. The collapse of right wing media in the Age of Trump is fascinating to me.
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For those catching up on this incredibly subtle distinction, and there do seem to be a few, Katie can still say whatever she likes on social media – and in the Daily Mail, for as long as Paul Dacre will retain her services.
But LBC seems to have decided, to adapt the senior officer in Top Gun, that Katie’s ego was writing cheques her body couldn’t cash. Then again, it is reported she has cost the Mail group at least £474,000 in libel damages and costs thus far, while she was found personally liable for £131,000 of the same after losing a case to the writer Jack Monroe. So it is possible that – how to put this? – Katie’s hand may soon be writing cheques her bank account can’t cash.
“Flash and Substance” really pinpoints why I love Wally so much as a character. Even with powers, he’s the most human member of the league–and, in a lot of ways, he not only serves as the heart of the team, but keeps it grounded in its collective humanity. That’s been canon since before JLU: in “A Better World,” the sole difference between the Justice League and the Justice Lords is a living Wally West.
But “Flash and Substance” is the first time we really see the Flash in his element. In the League, he comes off as a goof-off and often as a minor player, and “Flash and Substance” is where we learn why. Wally is essentially a local hero. His heroics, and even his relationship to his villains, are grounded in his community. His day job is in law enforcement–specifically, the less flashy end of it. He fights supervillains, but that’s a relatively small aspect of how he engages with the people of Central City. (We get a glimpse of that earlier, too, in another of my favorite episodes, “Comfort and Joy.”) He’s just a really, really good dude.
If Batman is the mastermind/general of the league, Flash is the social worker. He’s not solving global problems, but he knows every single person he’s encountered by name, and he treats them all like people.
There’s a scene midway through the episode that gets discussed a lot, where the Flash, Batman, and Orion encounter the Trickster in a villain bar. They’re trying to get info on a rogues’ plot to attack the opening of the Flash Museum–and this, above all other moments, is where you see why the Flash is so goddamn great.
Batman and Orion, true to form, are ready to beat the information out of the Trickster. Flash, horrified, calls them off, sits down with the Trickster at the bar, and gently convinces him not only to tip the heroes off to the other rogues’ plans, but to check himself back into the psychiatric hospital from which he’s escaped with a promise of a visit and a game of darts (”the soft kind”). (And you know he’s gonna follow through, too, because of “Comfort and Joy.”)
Orion is floored. Batman is impressed. Flash is nonplussed: to him, this is how being a superhero works.
And that’s why Wally West is the best guy in the Justice League, and “Flash and Substance” is my favorite episode of JLU.
This is great, and also reminds me of a lot of what I like about William Messner-Loebs’ run on Flash in the late ‘80s; the idea of Wally treating supervillains as people and operating as super social worker as much as anything comes pretty much directly from that run. Mark Waid’s Wally is great, and some of my favorite superhero comics, but Messner-Loebs’ Wally – as wonderfully messy and anxious and uncertain as he is – is the origin point for the character that Jay’s talking about here.
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But what is so seductive about 1997 is that it represents an exceptionally unusual model of modernity in British political life, where the nation’s endemic post-imperial nostalgia could be cast aside as much as that of the welfare state and Labour’s socialist past. Although it is now widely criticized for being excessively “cosmopolitan,” flag-waving was always part of New Labour’s vision—the most famous image of 1997 is of Blair arriving in Downing Street to find an adoring (Party-organized) crowd waving little Union Jacks. This was in the service of a country rebranded. One of Blair’s vacuous but utterly optimistic books is titled New Britain: My Vision for a Young Country. The 2005 manifesto is called Britain Forward Not Back. 1940, 1945, 1974, and 1979 are full of haunting possibilities, roads not taken, memories transformed into monoliths. Yet the same could be said of 1997, when Labour had a gigantic electoral mandate for a transformation of Britain into a more equal, more open, more modern, less cruel country, but decided that the means to achieve all this was to trust in the sensible bankers and reliable outsourcing companies. It’s the resulting failure that has let the ghosts back in, and nobody seems able to exorcise them yet.
When you hear someone say “dark social,” they’re bemoaning the inability to get click reports off of actual conversation. Because when you see someone on the street head-down in their phone and dabbing away at the screen, they’re not cut off from the outside world. They’re talking to people. Fuck your Black Mirror narrative – they’re just more interested in a window to their friends and family than they are in you peering at them in judgement.
A limited run podcast where, each episode, a different writer reads a newly-written, ~5 minute story inspired by a song selected by a curator, followed by said song playing in its entirety. After 5 episodes (and 5 songs), the curator explains why each song was chosen. The season lasts 6 episodes, and then any subsequent season, should there be one, has a different curator.