Summary of “The Queen West Voyeur”

I first met Pete Forde two years ago in the back of Get Well, a dark bar on Dundas West.
Eventually, Forde invited me to the itsme3D office at Queen and Spadina to get my very own avatar made.
Forde often bragged to friends that he’d taught himself at age six to code in BASIC-a programming language usually taught to Grade 11 computer science students.
The Fordes lived in a small town outside Peterborough, and Forde’s childhood was an unhappy one.
Forde mused, we did the same thing for people-and digitized instead of printed them? Forde imagined a precise replica based on a detailed composite photograph.
One day in late 2015, Forde walked into a salad bar on Queen West, just around the corner from his townhouse.
Forde had told the coder that the privacy settings would keep their files separate, but the coder came across a folder of Forde’s labelled “Pictures.” He didn’t realize when he clicked on it that he effectively had backdoor access to his boss’s personal files.
As Forde approached, one of the men said, “We’re here to see you.” Forde thought he was joking until the man flashed his badge and told him he was under arrest.

The orginal article.

Summary of “A Working Class Death”

He’s in the later stages of congestive heart failure, complicated by diabetes, obesity, gout, prostate problems, and whatever other trouble years of poor diet, little exercise, long work hours, and minimal health care will get you.
He’s propped up in pajamas on rough white sheets, working for each breath.
Your brother would like to be here but he’s at work on the West Coast and can’t afford time off.
“How’d you get a woman like her to marry someone like you?” a colleague asked him at a work dinner once when your mom wore her one string of fake pearls and a little black dress that made her look like Jackie O. The story hung on in the family for years, a pretty compliment to her, embedded with the kind of put-down he absorbed all his life.
The working class made you and at some fundamental level you’re loyal to it.
In your father’s prime working years, the seventies through the nineties, larger forces were massing against Americans who grew up poor, believing in the bootstrap dream.
He’s a yellow dog Democrat who’s voted and argued all his life for the honor and rights of the working man, the laborer, the veteran against forces that would crush them.
You should have done better for him, found other doctors, spent more time, but you were working long hours at the firm.

The orginal article.

Summary of “How Newt Gingrich Destroyed American Politics”

Outside the lion pen, Gingrich treats me to a brief discourse on gender theory: “The male lion procreates, protects the pride, and sleeps. The females hunt, and as soon as they find something, the male knocks them over and takes the best portion. It’s the opposite of every American feminist vision of the world-but it’s a fact!”.
There’s something about Newt Gingrich that seems to capture the spirit of America circa 2018.
Gingrich’s career can perhaps be best understood as a grand exercise in devolution-an effort to strip American politics of the civilizing traits it had developed over time and return it to its most primal essence.
For their party to succeed, Gingrich went on, the next generation of Republicans would have to learn to “Raise hell,” to stop being so “Nice,” to realize that politics was, above all, a cutthroat “War for power”-and to start acting like it.
The poisonous politics Gingrich had injected into Washington’s bloodstream had escaped his control.
So began the campaign that Gingrich would call “a watershed moment for America’s future.” Early on, Gingrich set himself apart from other prominent conservatives by talking up Trump’s candidacy on TV and defending him against attacks from the GOP establishment.
In Trump, Gingrich has found the apotheosis of the primate politics he has been practicing his entire life-nasty, vicious, and unconcerned with those pesky “Boy Scout words” as he fights in the Darwinian struggle that is American life today.
From my seat in the balcony, I’m struck by how thoroughly Gingrich seems to be enjoying himself-not just onstage, but in the luxurious quasi-retirement he has carved out.

The orginal article.

Summary of “The people who moved to Chernobyl”

Less than two hours’ drive from the capital Kiev, along the perimeter of the exclusion zone, it’s not just families looking for opportunities in these ghost towns, but also entrepreneurs.
Every day Vadim Minzuyk walks his dog along the high wire fence marking out the beginning of the exclusion zone.
“It’s like living in the north of Finland or Alaska,” says Vadim.
In his former hometown of Horlivka, eastern Ukraine, Vadim was a businessman turning over a million dollars a year.
Vadim remembers looking out of his back window to see the rebels erecting a barricade right against his garden fence.
After evacuating his children, Vadim and his wife soon followed.
For several months, living off savings, Vadim travelled around Ukraine looking for ways for his family to start again.
Vadim even re-employed seven of his former workers from Donbass, offering them accommodation by converting one of his houses into a hostel.

The orginal article.

Summary of “Working in quality time instead of clock time”

One of the things I love about our flexible work environment at Basecamp is the freedom to step away from something whenever I need to.
R&D work like this depends on having good mental and emotional energy.
When you’re tired, distracted, or in the weeds on something, it’s usually better to stop working.
I always find this difficult to do, because the working world tells us that full-time employees should put in 8+ consecutive hours no matter what.
The problem is, grinding it out is counterproductive for creative work, because creativity doesn’t happen on a linear time scale.
Then start thinking about productivity in terms of quality time instead of clock time.
I’m usually at my creative peak in the mid-morning and lose steam after lunch, so I shuffle my work accordingly.
You’ll be much happier and more effective, and your work will still get done in the end.

The orginal article.

Summary of “The Strangest Desert Festival In the World Makes Everyone’s Mad Max Dreams Come True”

The roots of the event now known as Wasteland Weekend date back to 2009, when around 150 Mad Max fans decided to take a camping trip in the desert.
They dubbed it Road Warrior Weekend, but in 2010 some of the attendees set their sights larger: the Wasteland founders envisioned a desert festival experience, “Based heavily on the Mad Max films,” they wrote, “But incorporating other iconic pieces of post-apocalyptic pop culture.”
Most Wasteland attendees use Wasteland-specific nicknames while they’re out in the dust, and camp together in “Tribes,” with coordinated costumes, elaborately-themed camps, and, often enough, complicated rivalries with other tribes.
They’re such Wasteland devotees that three years ago they were married in the Thunderdome; Ares wore a dress she Frankensteined together out of other, lesser dresses.
The motorized things-“Please don’t call them fucking art cars,” Spud pleads- people bring to Wasteland are usually not so speedy but rather the culmination of years of dreams and planning and work.
“Thanks, bro,” the snowmobile owner replies; his Wasteland name turns out to be Beast, and he’s the president of the Raging Ferals, a Wasteland-only motorcycle club.
He’s been sick, Warsaw explains, too sick to come out to Wasteland himself.
“Wasteland isn’t just a car show. It’s a way of life year-round.” His tribe, who mostly live in Fresno, meet weekly, to dream about what they’ll build next and “To pull our hair out over what we can’t afford. We spend all year building and creating and figuring out how to get it here.”

The orginal article.

Summary of “How to stop watching TV and have more quality downtime”

So how do you shake up this routine and begin to invest your time in activities that truly satisfy and refresh you?
As a time management coach, I’ve seen that these five strategies can help you feel like you have more free time and feel happier with how you invest it.
Since free time is so limited, it’s essential that you prep in advance to take full advantage of your time.
Another little trick to give yourself the sense that you have more free time is to do more than one activity in an evening.
By doing multiple activities in one evening, it makes you feel like you experienced more within the same amount of time.
You should consider a more intentional approach to your free time.
Some small tweaks to how you spend it can make a huge impact to the sense that you have free time, your overall energy levels, and your satisfaction with life in general.
Elizabeth Grace Saunders is the author of Divine Time Management and How to Invest Your Time Like Money, and a time management coach.

The orginal article.

Summary of “A farewell to Brazil, country of broken dreams”

The whole world was looking at the country with new interest: powered by the commodity boom, Brazil had recently overtaken Britain as the world’s sixth largest economy, and it was flexing new diplomatic muscle.
For me, there was a particular attraction: I came to Brazil after 12 years of reporting in sub-Sarahan Africa and South Asia, where I wrote dozens of stories about projects that were designed to end poverty and reduce inequality.
In February of 2014, I wrote a first article about a sprawling graft scheme, introducing Globe readers to Lava Jato – “Car wash” in Portuguese, the police code name of the criminal investigation that would come to be the dominant story of my time in Brazil.
Much of the success in reducing poverty in Brazil was due to a sharp rise in the minimum wage and expansion in the manufacturing and service sectors – but now those areas began layoffs, and by the time the Olympics came to town, the unemployment rate was more than 12 per cent.
Those were feelings I could totally understand, but sometimes I would push back a bit, pointing out that many of the gains Brazil made in the best years – a surge in vaccination coverage of children, a rise in adult literacy, a healthy increase in the number of years kids stayed in school, a jump in the number of Afro-descendants who went to college – were not lost, despite the recession, despite the scandals and disillusionment with Mr. da Silva.
Instead of offering a salutary lesson in how to reduce inequality, I wrote then, Brazil turned out to be an illustration in just how devilishly difficult that is.
The development nerd in me was fascinated by this story, but the part of me that had come to love Brazil was further deflated.
Stephanie Nolen’s Brazil: More from our archives Brazil’s colour bind: How one of the world’s most diverse countries is just starting to talk about race.

The orginal article.

Summary of “Kurt Vile Abides – Rolling Stone”

About a year ago, feeling overwhelmed by all the demands on his time, Vile delayed the release of Bottle It In from spring 2018 to October 12th. If he hadn’t, he says, “I was prepared to have a serious breakdown. Pretty normal.”
Vile credits his wife of 15 years, Suzanne Lang, with helping him stay grounded.
“The goal is just to get a little more healthy all the time,” Vile says.
“It’s a whole different scene once people love you for a song,” Vile says.
Last summer, after a memorable night with the Violators in Salt Lake City – “It was in the park and the tickets were cheap, so there were, like, 9,000 people there, just going nuts” – Vile continued onward to L.A. to see producer Shawn Everett.
Heading into their first meeting, Vile wondered if he’d made a mistake: “I almost had a panic attack, not knowing how it was going to turn out. Then he showed up and it was totally cool. You have to make yourself uncomfortable for a second to feel free later, you know?”.
Among the songs Vile recorded with Everett is Bottle It In’s nine-minute-plus centerpiece, “Bassackwards,” a slow-burn psychedelic dream with an undercurrent of dread. In part, he tells me, it’s a song about his fears for the future in a time of global warming and skyrocketing hate.
Vile himself darts antsily from room to room, light beer in hand, the life of the party for five minutes at a time.

The orginal article.

Summary of “When It’s Time to Say Goodbye to the Old House”

At 11:53 a.m. on March 31, 2015, I received a text from Dad. “I just dropped off the keys to the houseand said a prayer one last time on behalf of the family,” it read. The house in question was the first concrete thing he’d bought in America way back in 1979, a modest, nondescript one-story suburban starter home we’d moved out of some 26 years and three months earlier, in the winter of 1989.
He treated the old house like a child he’d had to leave behind, but had never forgotten.
For the ten years we lived in it, the old house was where Dad brought his grieving, cataract-afflicted mother from India – for him, a place of pain, anger, and loss – to live out her remaining years, haunted by the losses of her husband and several sons.
In the years that followed the old house, time unspooled its cruel inevitabilities on Dad, taking away his mother, his friends from work.
As we were closing the books on the sale of the old house, word came that our family’s ownership of Dad’s childhood home back in India was in jeopardy.
A combination of legal ambiguity and a local absence of heirs to the property – Dad’s parents and all of his siblings who stayed behind had passed away – had, for all intents and purposes, eroded our claim to the house.
There’s a story, some parts apocryphal, some parts embellished by memory: Dad, hunkering down in the Old House for Hurricane Alicia in the summer of 1983, which had been slated to be the worst to hit Houston in 20 years.
Dad ended the text with a blessing for my older sister and me – “God’s gift to us when The family lived there,” the place where we learned “To crawl, walk, and speak.” Saying goodbye, he wrote, accepting that we no longer owned the house, “Was a little emotional.” For years, I’d thought of the old house as another sibling; reading the text, it suddenly seemed more like a long-suffering family member we were finally taking off life support, as if he were coming to terms with the end of some grand adventure.

The orginal article.