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In the News 22.11.16 : Today’s Articles of Interest from Around the Internet


In the News 22.11.16 : Today’s Articles of Interest from Around the Internet

The Last Unknown Man


Early one summer morning, Son Yo Auer, a Burger King employee in Richmond Hill, Georgia, found a naked man lying unconscious in front of the restaurant’s dumpsters. It was before dawn, but the man was sweating and sunburned. Fire ants crawled across his body, and a hot red rash flecked his skin. Auer screamed and ran inside. By the time police arrived, the man was awake, but confused. An officer filed an incident report indicating that a “vagrant” had been found “sleeping,” and an ambulance took him to St. Joseph’s Hospital in Savannah, where he was admitted on August 31, 2004, under the name “Burger King Doe.”

Other than the rash, and cataracts that had left him nearly blind, Burger King Doe showed no sign of physical injury. He appeared to be a healthy white man in his middle fifties. His vitals were good. His blood tested negative for drugs and alcohol. His lab results were, a doctor wrote on his chart, “surprisingly within normal limits.” A long, unwashed beard and dirty fingernails suggested he had been living rough. But the only physical signs of previous trauma were three small depressions on his skull and some scars on his neck and his left arm.

Read the rest of this article at New Republic

‘None of the old rules apply’: Dave Eggers travels through post-election America


The word surreal is overused and often wrongly used, but in the case of the Washington Post Election Night Live party, the word was apt. First of all, it was a disco. There was a DJ playing a frenetic mix of contemporary Top 40 and pointedly apropos songs such as Pat Benatar’s “Hit Me With Your Best Shot” (“You’re a real tough cookie with a long history … ” ). Behind the DJ there were dozens of screens showing various television networks’ coverage of the election. The screens were so bright and so huge, and the colours so primary and vivid, that the experience was like being trapped inside an enormous jar of jelly beans.

Women dressed like Vegas showgirls made their way through the crowd with towering tiered hats adorned with chocolates from one of the evening’s sponsors. The chocolates, round and the size of strawberries, were offered in pairs, enclosed in loose plastic sacks – a bizarre but perhaps intentionally lewd optic? The bartenders were setting out Campari Americanos by the dozens. The food was by chefs José Andrés and the brothers Voltaggio. The Washington Post has a right to celebrate – the paper is thriving and its political coverage extraordinary – but this felt like Rome before the fall.

Read the rest of this article at The Guardian


Shop Update: The Return of The Saint-Germain-des-Prés in Seacliff

Shop the Saint-Germain-des-Prés shoulder bag in Seacliff
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The Man Who Polarises Paris


Shortly after 3pm on September 29th, 31-year-old Olivier Rousteing strode through the shimmering, fleshy backstage area at Balmain’s Spring 2017 Paris Fashion Week show. Along the marble hallway of a hôtel particulier in the 8th arrondissement, long-limbed clusters of supermodels were gamely tolerating final applications of leg-moisturiser, make-up touch-ups and minutely precise hair interventions from squads of specialists as fast and accurate as any Formula 1 pit-stop team. The crowd parted as Rousteing swept through.

Wearing a belted, black silk tuxedo and a focused expression that accentuated his razor-sharp cheekbones, Rousteing resembled a sensuous hit man. Target identified, he led us to the board upon which photographs of every outfit were tacked.

We asked him to tell us about the collection (for that’s what fashion editors always ask). “There is no theme,” said Rou­steing in his fast, French-accented lilt. “No inspiration from travel or time. The inspiration is what I feel, and what I feel now is peace, light and serenity. I feel like in my six years here before this, I have tried to fight so many battles. Because there is no point anymore in fighting about boundaries and limits in fashion. Balmain has its place in fashion.”

Read the rest of this article at The Economist

Do Elephants Have Souls?


The birth of an elephant is a spectacular occasion. Grandmothers, aunts, sisters, and cousins crowd around the new arrival and its dazed mother, trumpeting and stamping and waving their trunks to welcome the floppy baby who has so recently arrived from out of the void, bursting through the border of existence to take its place in an unbroken line stretching back to the dawn of life.

After almost two years in the womb and a few minutes to stretch its legs, the calf can begin to stumble around. But its trunk, an evolutionarily unique inheritance of up to 150,000 muscles with the dexterity to pick up a pin and the strength to uproot a tree, will be a mystery to it at first, with little apparent use except to sometimes suck upon like human babies do their thumbs. Over time, with practice and guidance, it will find the potential in this appendage flailing off its face to breathe, drink, caress, thwack, probe, lift, haul, wrap, spray, sense, blast, stroke, smell, nudge, collect, bathe, toot, wave, and perform countless other functions that a person would rely on a combination of eyes, nose, hands, and strong machinery to do.

Read the rest of this article at The New Atlantis

The End Of Ice

The Arctic is warming twice as fast as any place on the planet. Can native villages in northernmost Alaska survive climate change?


Some show, as it were, the big picture. Look at those revelatoryphotographs
of Earth from outer space, the ones that streamed back down from the Apollo missions. Today, that beautiful blue-white marble is … nowhere near as white. Half the summer sea ice in the Arctic hasvanished. In only half a lifetime.

But Katie Orlinsky’s pictures provide the close-up. For the past two years, Orlinsky has documented the toll that climate change is taking on the indigenous residents of six villages in northernmost Alaska. Her photographs from the front lines of global warming demonstrate what it means to live in a place where life is still tied to geography. Life in these villages has always involved cold. Cold meant ice, and ice meant seals and whales and polar bears, and the animals meant enough meat to fill a village’s ice cellars, buried deep in the permafrost. Now these givens are givens no more. The seals are disappearing, and the ice is too thin to support whale hunting, and the polar bears are eating what’s left of the whales. The ice cellars are melting, and the food is rotting. The entire village of Shishmaref is disappearing into the sea, and soon all 600 residents will have to relocate.

Read the rest of this article at The New Republic

P.S. previous articles & more by P.F.M. // Top image: @vivaluxuryblog