“Nick Fuentes, an unabashed admirer of Adolf Hitler, said President Donald Trump went too far—even by his standards—with his ‘despicable’ remarks about Rob Reiner the morning after the famed director and his wife were found stabbed to death. ‘This is ugly rhetoric. It is ugly, it is actually evil,’ Fuentes said on his show on Monday. ‘Forget for a moment that we are in a war— someone gets murdered by their son, it’s a horrific tragedy. This is a horrible story, and nobody deserves that. I don’t care what their politics are.’” –Mediaite.com
Your day of reckoning has come When even Nazis think you’re scum.
“Relief and reward for passengers as Rome’s ‘museum stations’ finally open … Colosseo-Fori Imperiali contains the remains of a Republican-era townhouse and a thermal bath believed to date back to the beginning of Rome’s imperial period, and 28 wells that were used long before the first aqueduct was invented. Dozens of relics found during the metro station’s construction are displayed behind glass screens, including jugs, bowls and votives, such as a stag’s antlers and hairpins, found in the wells.” —The Guardian
Commuters rushing past the ancient Fora Rejoice to find at last they need not dally. Now there are working trains, not just an aura, At Colosseo-Fori Imperiali.
But should they choose to do so, they’ll discover Delights undreamed of: horns and other votives To charm the heart of every knowledge-lover Dependent on the City’s locomotives.
One day, our era may return the favor. When all we’ve built is buried ten yards under, I’d like to think that some inventive paver Will hit on something generating wonder:
A toothbrush—maybe sacred? Bits of freezers With fragments still inside? Perhaps a stocking Will join the treasure-coffers of the Caesars, And seem no less exciting, no less shocking
To those to whom we’re even now bequeathing Signs of the funny ways we live and die: Proofs that this place was really run by breathing Bodies with brains, not cobalt with AI.
“My daughter earns more than me—should I still gift her £200 for Christmas?” —The i Paper
Yes, do it every year as an investment, And when you reach old age with all its ills, You’ll have a healthy balance in the guilt bank, To shame her into covering your bills.
“Let’s make one thing crystal clear: Admiral Mitch Bradley is an American hero, a true professional, and has my 100% support. I stand by him and the combat decisions he has made—on this September 2 mission and all others since. America is fortunate to have such men protecting us. When this @DeptofWar says we have the back of our warriors—we mean it.” —Pete Hegseth on X
I wasn’t there the whole attack, But love how he left no one livin’! And rest assured: I have his back. (‘Cause that’s where I just stuck the shiv in.)
“Honeybees… [sometimes make honey from] the sticky, sugary substance that spotted lanternflies leave behind after slurping tree sap…. The proper term for this substance is honeydew, but that’s really just another word for poop.” —The Washington Post
I eat this honey by the scoop, but now they tell me it’s just poop.
I really have adored the taste. How could I know that it was waste?
No more! I’ve laid aside my spoon. I’ve learned my lesson none too soon!
Yet Dear, though now I know it’s funny, I always will still call you Honey.
“US diplomats have been ordered to return to using the Times New Roman typeface in official communications, with secretary of state Marco Rubio calling the Biden administration’s decision to adopt Calibri a ‘wasteful’ diversity move, according to an internal department cable…. The department under Rubio’s predecessor Antony Blinken switched to Calibri in 2023, claiming the modern sans-serif typeface was more accessible for people with disabilities…. [The cable says the return to Times Roman will] ‘restore decorum and professionalism to the Department’s written work products and abolish yet another wasteful DEIA program…'” —The Guardian
As consuls typed the docs assigned, Unsure what Trump might want, The Secretary (not that kind) Harangued them: “Change that font!
“Decorum’s what we’re all about! We’re back to Times Gone By! Low-caliber Calibri’s out, With wasteful DEI!”
Back came the Serif, whereupon Appeared a shining wad Of Times New Roman rants from Don, At one remove from God.
So, shame to traitors snarling jokes And squawking squinters, please: All glory be to soothing strokes On Ds and Js and Ts!
“The chicest Christmas [sweaters] you’ll actually want to wear this winter” – Evening Standard
My regimen of exercise and diet Goes all to hell when Christmas rears its head. I want my sweaters oversized and ugly, To camouflage my nascent Christmas spread.
“Backstreet Boys singer Brian Littrell faces off in court with senior citizen he says has been trespassing on his private Florida beach… Littrell also sued the Walton County Sheriff’s Office in July, claiming it wasn’t doing enough to protect the family from trespassers.” —New York Post
The plaintiff is a Backstreet Boy. His case has raised a stink. He’s suing people who annoy. Too bad they’re not NSYNC.
“Ancient Egyptian pleasure boat found by archaeologists off Alexandria coast: First-century luxury vessel matches description by the Greek historian Strabo, who visited city around 29-25BC … Strabo had visited the Egyptian city around 29-25BC and wrote of such boats: ‘These vessels are luxuriously fitted out and used by the royal court for excursions; and the crowd of revellers who go down from Alexandria by the canal to the public festivals; for every day and every night is crowded with people on the boats who play the flute and dance without restraint and with extreme licentiousness.'” —The Guardian
The barge she sat in once was gone long since; The water cooled; the golden prow stripped bare, Splintered and rotted; the delicious hints Of perfume melted into air, thin air. “Extreme licentiousness!” old Strabo wrote (He had not been invited); “revelry Without restraint!” No more: the glowing boat Seemed cold as Caesar’s monument. But see: Today once more the waves begin to swell; Soft, purple echoes, surfacing, recall The stroking oars, the ancient serpent’s spell That beggars all description (nearly all); And there she sits, commanding at a touch: If it be love indeed, tell me how much …
“Poems Can Trick AI Into Helping You Make a Nuclear Weapon” —Wired
AI can plot a jailbreak in one pass And build (in couplets!) war materiel. The one thing it can’t teach us yet, alas, Is how to build a sonnet that might sell.
“Captured by photographer Lewis Hine, The Sky Boy, as the image became known, encapsulated the daring and vigour of the men who built the Empire State Building, then the world’s tallest structure at 102 storeys and 1,250ft (381m) high. … [A] new book called Men at Work throws light on the lives and opinions of a small fraction of this forgotten workforce. … [The author] saves his most controversial speculation until last: that the unknown Sky Boy was a man called Dick McCarthy, a second-generation American, grandson of Irish immigrants, living in Brooklyn, who died in 1983.” —The Guardian
Nameless for over ninety years, he swings Godlike above Manhattan: hooks and wires And coils of cable have to do for wings. 10 seconds to the sidewalk; to the spires Probably more like five. So don’t look down. This is the way that crazy work got done; Behold the motor-soul of Babel Town With pride: a Sky Boy, wheeling towards the sun. So long a cryptic photo, he can claim Identity at last: a Brooklyn lad, Irish; McCarthy may have been his name. So honor him by that, our denim-clad Wild pioneer, scraping the sky for us; Or, like the lensman, call him Icarus.
