Credit NBC News

It’s the morning of November 4, 2020. A biting wind lashes London from the southwest, the sky gray as stone. Stillness grips an inner borough’s twisting alleyways just after dawn — an unsettling stillness, nerve-jangling even, the day’s unavoidable chaos always just round the corner. Only the distant shout of a homeless man punctures a roadway’s ambient din — or is it a pedestrian being knifed? Difficult to tell, really.

Inside one cramped flat, a lumpy man named Gerald grabs his phone off the counter and takes a seat at the kitchen table. His partner, a sprightly woman named Geraldine…


Photo by Alliance/DPA

“ Democrats proposed a far-reaching overhaul of police procedures and accountability Monday, a sweeping legislative response to the mass protests denouncing the deaths of black Americans in the hands of law enforcement.” — AP, 6/7/20

This country is coming apart. We see it every day, looking out from our palace, these mass demonstrations conducted by peasants from Dresden to Berlin. You, the East German people, have suffered decades of oppression by the Stasi police state. The foundation is rotten, so we know what we must do.

It is long past time to give the Berlin Wall a makeover.

The Socialist…


The president’s bogus spiel about disinfectants rattled a reeling nation. And kicked the door open for Biden.

Credit Michael Reynolds/EPA/Bloomberg/Getty Images

This was not a gaffe. It was not a slip-up, nor was it a miscue or a misfire or a blooper or even a blunder.

This was a presidential killer. There is no coming back from this. In the thick of a global contagion, in a moment begging for steady leadership, the president of the United States stood before the world and revealed that he not only lacked decency, tact, or political experience — we knew that already — but something far more fundamental to leaders of every stripe: common sense.

And there is no room for a president lacking…


His words aren’t just wrecking democracy. They’re wrecking lives.

Midnight approached, and the white van sat like a Trojan Horse. Three men in thick, black vests waited inside. The heavy June air of Northern Virginia was still, plucked gently by a chorus of crickets and the faint whir of cars drifting down a nearby highway. The men seemed hesitant to disturb the peace. Perhaps they knew they were being watched.

Among the wary onlookers was Kenec, a teenager observing from his family’s three-bedroom apartment on the second floor. He knew it was serious because he was not the only one watching. …


Center referee Scott Hartman tries to avoid a collision in the first half of a match between Battlefield and Osbourn on May 9 in Haymarket, Va. (Katherine Frey/The Washington Post)

Morning sunshine blanketed a soccer field in Annandale, Va., the conditions perfect for tension to simmer into a boil. One player lunged forward to seize possession of the ball, sending his opponent tumbling to the turf. Emily Smith, the referee, wasn’t sure whether to call a foul, so she let it go. Play on.

The fallen player’s coach thrust his arms skyward, his face screwed up with anger and incredulity. Spectators hurled insults in English and Spanish. Players began feeding off the mounting outrage, one of them suggesting Emily get glasses to correct her blindness.

Emily trudged away from the…


Christos FC’s first “random” fan — that is, a fan unaffiliated with the amateur soccer club or its hometown of Baltimore — abandoned D.C. United two years ago.

Liam Hogan bled black and red throughout his childhood. He played for the D.C. United Juniors until he was 10. His family renewed their season tickets every year. He was a devoted member of the District Ultras, a non-profit group dedicated to supporting the local pro team.

At some point, Hogan became sick of the organization. Sick of the crumbling stadium. Sick of the corporate partnerships. Sick of the stubborn coach. …


Thursday, 10:37 p.m., Pennsylvania Ave and 20th St.

There I was, a well-regarded Uber driver with an impeccable 5-star average rating, lounging in the back seat of my own car, sandwiched by a pair of buxom Russian lasses with unspeakable intentions. There was desire in the air, risk in the offing, breasts in my face, and I saw no reason to hold back. …

Nick Eilerson

Writer.

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