Colleges See Major Racial Shifts in Student Enrollment - The New York Times


The Temptation Of St. Warren | The New Republic


U.S. Will Cut Tariffs on India to 18% in Trade Deal - WSJ


Gavin Newsom Is Playing the Long Game | The New Yorker

For years, Newsom has cultivated the air of an accidental politician. He notes that, in his twenties, he was a wine entrepreneur: with support from the dynastic businessman and composer Gordon Getty, he launched a wine shop, then a café, and then a vineyard and other projects, called PlumpJack (a Falstaff epithet, in “Henry IV, Part 1”). Today, he owns, partly in a blind trust designed to avoid conflicts of interest, stakes in offshoot enterprises with names like the Falstaff Management Group, Inc. He tells people that, if his political career ended tomorrow, he would return to life in business, and what a mercy that would be. But the feint convinces almost no one, because Newsom is perhaps the least Falstaffian man in wine. He starts texting at seven in the morning. He dresses each day as if for the meeting that will change his life. His holdings earn him, passively, more than a million dollars a year, enough to live on and more, and yet there he is, week after week, taking notes in policy binders, standing in the sun along the border—a guy so all in for the public grind, it seems, that he has turned even the simple pleasures in life, like poking fun at the President’s unhinged posts, into a statehouse chore.


Gavin Newsom Memoir Describes Difficult Childhood, Contrary to Image - The New York Times


Carlos Alcaraz has the career Grand Slam, but his tennis legend is long in the writing - The Athletic


Why this New Jersey gym is known as the ‘most dangerous gym in America’ - ESPN


Federal Judge Rules Out Death Penalty for Luigi Mangione - WSJ — Weak judge.


“Will Sally Have a Baby Before All Her Eggs Die?” A Word Problem - McSweeney’s Internet Tendency


The Brilliance and the Badness of “The Sun Also Rises” | The New Yorker

I found myself reading the book quickly, unable to slow down to the pace that Hemingway’s style requires, knowing, as I sped through, that what I was doing was as senseless as taking big gulps of a grand-cru wine. Periodically, I was shocked by the book’s brilliance—in the bar scenes where so many people are talking, for example, and the reader is hovering among them—and by its breathtaking beauty. More significant, in addition to being wretched, the book is also periodically wise.