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By late morning, the light will be hard and precise. The surface—what remains of it—will not be the smooth, mythic white that people expect, but a kind of broken grey: meltwater channels, soot, wind-scored ridges. https://t.co/u5MfZQqd7V
Whether or not one agrees with Trump’s view, and people obviously can disagree, his rhetoric echoes Kremlin-style attacks on Ukrainian legitimacy a hell of a lot more than it resembles any kind of pressure on the aggressor state that invaded Ukraine. https://t.co/DcsJMtClEo
It was yet another wake-up call. One participant spoke quietly about searching for her twenty-year-old son, still missing after months of war. https://t.co/j2aeUj1cI1
https://t.co/A5eIeURefF According to CWU’s Dave Ward, Secretary of State Peter Kyle has now asked for daily reports. A senior adviser will monitor progress.
You could almost hear that Manchester refrain: “How does it feel?”—not triumph, not Dylan, but the question New Order keep raising beneath the long groove of Blue Monday. https://t.co/HvqRYGDIvV
A reminder that volume is not the same as force—and that sometimes the most subversive act is simply to speak, and to keep speaking, where history and the bully expect silence. https://t.co/Cey9bNTfi5
As Groucho Marx put it: “Politics is the art of looking for trouble, finding it everywhere, diagnosing it incorrectly and applying the wrong remedies.” https://t.co/rtWnsP1sSA
Most of the creative people I know in the UK are resigned to an uphill struggle. Many work in a vacuum. The city is pocked with such voids. https://t.co/i7qEIZjPhS
The Ashes are governed by a playbook thicker than a cricket bat. Ukraine’s reality is defined by rule-breaking—treaties torn up, borders violated, norms smashed. #TheAshes#Ukraine#Cricket#cricketforall https://t.co/OSWIBQMF5S
Icelandic people maintain a strong attachment to their history. We once spent time there with a former Interior and Justice minister who told us his weekly history group had finally reached the third century. He was very excited about this. https://t.co/4pAjd18CbJ
“It’s the last big card he has to play,” says my friend. “My guess is he makes a referendum part of his next manifesto. But he can’t play it too early—or too late.” https://t.co/jbLHKPdUc9
I love that shift—from the racket of Wardour Street, couriers dodging taxis, pubs spilling conversations onto the pavement, into the padded quiet of a basement room, where the only sound now is the air conditioning before the film begins. https://t.co/1leLOudr7Q
Across continents, cricket has been a stage for protest, resistance, and pride—a tool of exclusion, and later, of course, unity. In much of the postcolonial world, it’s not just a sport: it’s memory, defiance, identity. https://t.co/YHtnTyzLIa
This story keeps giving—which is why we keep returning. In the end, this isn’t just about posties or parcels. It’s about what a country lets go of, and who’s left holding the letter when no one’s left to deliver it. https://t.co/a54uko2Fz3
To understand this escalation, we have to return to 1953—the year the British and the CIA helped overthrow Iran’s elected government and install the Shah. https://t.co/fZNxxWjUNh