For the most part, journalism has decided that the coronavirus and the killing of George Floyd, a forty-six-year-old Black man, in Minneapolis, are two distinct stories. That’s fiction. Floyd’s murder, under the knees of a white police officer—and the demonstrations in response—occurred as part of a cascade of events. There is the history of systemic racism in America, police brutality, and protest. There is the spread of covid-19, the disease caused by the new coronavirus, and its economic effects. Floyd had worked as a security guard, alternately at a Salvation Army and a club called Conga Latin Bistro, which closed amid the mass shutdown of bars and restaurants. On Memorial Day, he walked into a corner store for a pack of cigarettes; he was arrested for trying to pay with a fake twenty-dollar bill. His punishment was death. An autopsy report later showed that Floyd had been infected by the coronavirus before he was killed. His last words were the same as those of so many Black Americans: “I can’t breathe.”Betsy Morais and Alexandria Neason
Nothing quite so dramatic happened after McCain’s funeral. But it did clarify the situation. A year and a half into the Trump administration, it marked a turning point, the moment at which many Americans in public life began to adopt the strategies, tactics, and self-justifications that the inhabitants of occupied countries have used in the past—doing so even though the personal stakes were, relatively speaking, so low. Poles like Miłosz wound up in exile in the 1950s; dissidents in East Germany lost the right to work and study. In harsher regimes like that of Stalin’s Russia, public protest could lead to many years in a concentration camp; disobedient Wehrmacht officers were executed by slow strangulation.Anne Applebaum – History Will Judge the Complicit
Cold heart, cold art. Gopnik doesn’t say whether or not he believes the report, but he concludes that, if it is true, it says as much about Warhol’s desire to shock as about his supposed lack of feeling. He also points out that Warhol used the joke more than once. When his relationship with Edie Sedgwick was coming to an end—she ran off with Bob Dylan—he said to a friend, “When do you think Edie will commit suicide? I hope she lets us know, so we can film it.” If this was nasty, it was also clear-eyed: six years later, Sedgwick died of a barbiturate overdose. Warhol also applied the joke to himself, saying that he always regretted that no one had been there, in 1968, to film him being gunned down.Untangling Andy Warhol
These exchanges offer a window into an extremely online update of the militia movement, which is gearing up for the northern summer. The “Boogaloo Bois” expect, even hope, that the warmer weather will bring armed confrontations with law enforcement, and will build momentum towards a new civil war in the United States.
Mostly, they’re not even hiding it. And for the last several months, their platform of choice has been Facebook.Robert Evans and Jason Wilson