FRIDAY FILM / PEEK AT MARGOT ROBBIE'S WUTHERING HEIGHTS WITH A BIT OF ADVANCE SPICE FROM DIRECTOR EMERALD FENNELL

Here’s a quick preview of the upcoming Wuthering Heights film starring Margot Robbie.  The new version is directed by Emerald Fennell and box offices open February 13-14, 2026 — a Valentine’s Day weekend release aimed at audiences seeking a passionate and dramatic interpretation of Emily Brontë’s 1847 classic. 

Top Cast 

• Margot Robbie as Catherine Earnshaw

• Jacob Elordi as Heathcliff 

• Hong Chau as Nelly Dean 

• Shazad Latif as Edgar Linton 

• Alison Oliver as Isabella Linton 

• Martin Clunes as Mr. Earnshaw 

• Ewan Mitchell as Hindley Earnshaw 

* Young versions of Cathy and Heathcliff are played by Charlotte Mellington and Owen Cooper, respectively.

Director and Creative Team Emerald Fennell, LEFT, acclaimed for Promising Young Woman and Saltburn, wrote and directed this adaptation. Robbie is also producing through her LuckyChap Entertainment. 

Filming Location Principal photography took place in the United Kingdom, with extensive location shooting in the Yorkshire Dales (including Arkengarthdale and Swaledale) to capture the moody moorland setting integral to Brontë’s story. 

Additional work was at Sky Studios Elstree. Wikipedia 

Is There Pre-Debut Controversy? Yes. The film has become a polarizing topic online even before its release: 

• Some criticize the casting choices, particularly Jacob Elordi as Heathcliff, because the novel implies Heathcliff’s outsider, non-white background while Elordi is fair-skinned, and because Robbie, in her 30s, plays a character who’s a teenager in the book.  

• There’s debate over the film’s stylistic direction and marketing, including its steamy trailers and visuals that some say stray from traditional interpretations of the gothic romance. 

• Some early viewers have expressed frustration over perceived whitewashing and historical detail choices (like costume or music). Robbie and Fennell have both publicly acknowledged the conversations and urged audiences to wait for the full film before making final judgments. 

 One more note: Wuthering Heights is firmly in the public domain, which means no single era, critic, or constituency owns a definitive interpretation. Public-domain status exists precisely to give artists the freedom to revisit, reframe, and even challenge the original work without permission or constraint. 

Each adaptation becomes a conversation with Emily Brontë rather than a museum piece under glass. Some interpretations will resonate, others will provoke disagreement, but that tension is the engine of cultural longevity. 

The fact that Wuthering Heights continues to invite reinvention nearly two centuries later is not a failure of fidelity—it is proof of the novel’s enduring power. 

For those generationally challenged (ignorance) here's a big of informity: Wuthering is a dialect word from northern England, particularly Yorkshire, and it means to bluster, roar, or howl violently, most often in reference to wind and weather. In Bronte's Wuthering Heights, the word captures more than climate. It describes a place perpetually battered by harsh winds on exposed moorland, but it also functions symbolically. “Wuthering” suggests turbulence, unrest, and emotional violence—the same qualities that define the novel’s characters and their relationships. 

The house itself seems shaped by the wind, just as the people inside are shaped by obsession, pride, and unresolved passion. Emily Brontë chose the term deliberately. It signals from the title onward that this is not a gentle pastoral romance, but a story driven by elemental forces—natural and human—that refuse to be calmed. 

ENCORE.

Adding the 2026 adaptation by director Fennell brings the redux tally up another notch, Other notable film adaptations of Wuthering Heights include: * Wuthering Heights (1920 silent film) • Wuthering Heights (1939) starring Merle Oberon and Laurence Olivier • Abismos de Pasión (1954, Spanish-language version) • Wuthering Heights (1970) starring Timothy Dalton • Hurlevent (1985, French) • Onimaru (Arashi ga oka) (1988, Japanese) • Hihintayin Kita sa Langit (1991, Filipino) • Emily Brontë’s Wuthering Heights (1992) starring Ralph Fiennes and Juliette Binoche • The Promise (2007, Filipino) • Wuthering Heights (2011) directed by Andrea Arnold • Wuthering Heights (2022) directed by Bryan Ferriter  

AMERICANA / THE UN-AMERICAN PRESIDENT

The new America on January 24, 2026

GUEST BLOG / By Maureen Dowd, Opinion Columnist, New York Times reporting from Washington DC--I saw the charismatic Italian conductor Gianandrea Noseda lead the National Symphony Orchestra on Thursday, in a program called “Songs of Destiny & Fate.” The Brahms, Bach and Vivaldi were a soothing tonic to President Trump’s soundtrack, which is akin to the stabbing, shrieking Bernard Herrmann score for Hitchcock’s “Psycho” shower scene. 

The concert began with “The Star-Spangled Banner.” Even before Trump blasphemously interloped onto the Kennedy Center’s name, Horrible Trump Culture War Enforcer Ric Grenell had dictated that all National Symphony Orchestra concerts begin with the national anthem. 

I’m always happy to put my hand on my heart and listen to the ode to our flag and this “heav’n rescued land.” My father always had an American flag flying and took it down at sundown as a sign of respect, which was the custom then. When I won a Pulitzer, New York’s very cool senator, Daniel Patrick Moynihan, sent me a flag that had flown over the Capitol, which I cherish. 

 But it felt tinny to be force-fed “The Star-Spangled Banner” by our solipsistic president and his creepy sycophants, who show nothing but disdain for the Constitution and American values. It was our country’s destiny to reflect ideals that made us an incandescent beacon for democracy. 

But Trump has pulverized those ideals. We are now seen as sinister, selfish, unruly and at everybody’s throat. 

Jack Smith’s testimony before Congress on Thursday was a stinging reminder that Trump tried to overthrow the government and wickedly put lawmakers and his own vice president in harm’s way. “Our investigation revealed that Donald Trump is the person who caused Jan. 6, that it was foreseeable to him and that he sought to exploit the violence,” Smith said. 

It is heartbreaking that on the cusp of our 250th anniversary, we have a president who is perverting all the values our country was founded on — looking out for one another, respecting one another’s rights. America is not supposed to be a place where an angel-faced 5-year-old named Liam, with a floppy-eared hat and a Spider-Man backpack, gets seized and taken to a detention center by men in masks. 

 The American leader is meant to be a unifier, a strong and soothing presence in the world. Trump is an anarchic toddler, constantly causing upheaval across the globe, transgressing and remaking everything in his helter-skelter image. He has no interest in fireside chats; he wants to set fires. He’s more about droit du seigneur than noblesse oblige. He feels entitled to whatever he wants, from Greenland to Canada to the Kennedy Center to a Nobel Prize he didn’t win. 

Unlike previous presidents, he isn’t countering Russia; he’s catering to it. He disparaged the NATO troops who died for us in Afghanistan and belittled our nicest neighbor, claiming that “Canada lives because of the United States.” 

Demanding Greenland, which he kept calling Iceland, he whinged to global leaders at Davos: “All I want is a piece of ice.” The depth of his shallowness is infinite. One Canadian columnist asked: “How would Trump behave differently if he was legitimately losing his mind?” 

I understand the importance of legal immigration. My Irish father fought in the infantry in World War I to earn his citizenship. Nobody wants illegal criminals here. President Joe Biden let the border run amok. But in the new New York Times/Siena University poll, a sizable majority said ICE had gone too far. 

Trump responded by saying he would expand his lawsuit against The Times to include the poll, because his rampaging vanity cannot accept falling numbers; the poll indicated that 42 percent of voters said he was ramping up to be one of the worst presidents in American history. We have watched in horror as Minneapolis has morphed into an eerie war zone: ICE claiming that its officers are allowed to barge into people’s homes without judicial warrants; an ICE agent shooting an unarmed mom with stuffed animals in her glove compartment three times until she was dead; ICE dragging a Minnesota man — a Hmong immigrant and naturalized U.S. citizen with no criminal record — out of his house into the snow, wearing only underwear and Crocs; ICE detaining four children, including little Liam, from one school district. (An F.B.I. agent who wanted to investigate the ICE agent who shot the mom resigned after bureau officials told her to stop her inquiry.) 

“Why detain a 5-year-old?” a flustered Zena Stenvik, the town’s superintendent, keened at a press conference. It is clear the Trump crowd sees no difference between a criminal who crossed into the country illegally and a family that has applied for asylum and is doing everything the right way to stay here. 

My parents inculcated us with patriotism and gratitude for this country. I grew up surrounded by men in uniform. My mother carried around a pocket-size Constitution in her purse, along with miniature bottles of Tabasco. She did not want to see us on July 4 if we were not in red, white and blue. I know what America is meant to stand for. 

Trump has made America un-American. 

SHOT IN THE BACK!

 

Shooter of the first shot into Alex Pressi's back

WHO ARE THESE EIGHT MEN SURROUNDING ALEX PRETTI?

AMERICANA / PISSED OFF PEOPLE OUR WINTER OF DISCONTENT

 

MEDIA MONDAY / NEW YORK TIMES: EYEWITNESS COVERAGE TO MURDER ON AN AMERICAN STREET.

Timeline: A Moment by Moment Look at the Shooting of American citizen Alex Pretti 

GUEST BLOG / By Bora Erden, Devon Lum, Helmuth Rosales, Elena Shao and Haley Willis, The New York Times. 

Federal agents shot and killed a 37-year-old Minneapolis resident, Alex Jeffrey Pretti, at about 9 a.m. Central time on Saturday morning. A video shared with The New York Times by an eyewitness and her lawyer, as well as other video footage posted on social media, documents the violent scene, where agents appear to fire at least 10 shots in a span of only five seconds. 

The footage seems to contradict the Department of Homeland Security’s account of the event, which the agency said began after the victim approached the federal agents with a handgun and the intent to “massacre” them. 

Videos show a small group of civilians standing in the middle of a street where a person has recently been detained on the ground; the civilians are speaking to federal agents. Mr. Pretti appears to be filming the scene, and he walks closer to the federal agents while holding his phone. 

Leading up to this moment, one agent shoved two people away from a D.H.S. vehicle and into the street. Mr. Pretti attempted to put himself between the D.H.S. agent and the two civilians, and the agent pushed one of them to the ground. The video shows the same agent squirting pepper spray in the direction of Mr. Pretti’s face. (This agent will later fire shots at Mr. Pretti.) Mr. Pretti is holding his phone in one hand, and he holds his other hand up to protect against the spray. 

Several agents grab at Mr. Pretti, who is still holding his phone. Additional agents approach and attempt to pin Mr. Pretti to the ground. 

Mr. Pretti is surrounded by a group of seven agents, some of whom have wrestled him to the ground. One of the agents, who wears a gray coat, begins to approach the fray with empty hands and grabs at Mr. Pretti, while the other agents hold him down on his knees. At the same time, another agent strikes Mr. Pretti repeatedly with a pepper spray canister. 

The agent in the gray coat appears to pull a gun from near Mr. Pretti’s right hip. He then begins to move away from the skirmish with the recovered weapon. At the same time, another agent unholsters his firearm and points it at Mr. Pretti’s back. 

The agent in the gray coat removes the weapon, which matches the profile of a gun D.H.S. says belonged to Mr. Pretti, from the scene. Then, while Mr. Pretti is on his knees and restrained, the agent standing directly above him appears to fire one shot at Mr. Pretti at close range. He immediately fires three additional shots. 

Two agents who fired shots

Several agents have moved away from Mr. Pretti, who has collapsed. Another agent — the same one who shoved the civilians into the street and pepper-sprayed Mr. Pretti — unholsters his gun and fires at Mr. Pretti. The first agent also fires additional shots. Together, they fire six more shots at Mr. Pretti while he lies motionless on the ground. At least 10 shots appear to have been fired within five seconds. By the moment of the 10th shot, the agent who had moved away with the recovered weapon has crossed the street. 

Smoking Guns.

Mr. Pretti is the second person to have been shot and killed by a federal agent in Minnesota in recent weeks. Footage of Mr. Pretti’s death in Minneapolis was posted to social media almost immediately after the shooting. The Homeland Security Department said that the episode began after a man approached Border Patrol agents with a handgun, and that an agent fired “defensive shots.” 

Another incident in Minneapolis this month, in which a Venezuelan man was shot in the leg by a federal agent, was also characterized as “defensive” by the department. Gov. Tim Walz of Minnesota disputed the claims by federal officials that Mr. Pretti had posed a threat. He accused “the most powerful people in the federal government” of “spinning stories and putting up pictures.” Brian O’Hara, the chief of the Minneapolis Police Department, said that Mr. Pretti was an American citizen with no criminal record, and that he had a valid firearms permit. 

Under Minnesota law, citizens can legally carry a handgun in public, without concealment, if they have a permit. Large crowds of protesters continued to gather throughout the day at the site of Mr. Pretti’s shooting. 

Later on that Saturday, Mr. Walz authorized the deployment of the Minnesota National Guard, who will wear neon reflective vests to differentiate themselves from federal agents. 

* Excellent breaking news reporting and illustration of a crime scene by The New York Times. This original coverage is worthy of Pulitzer Prize(s).  Reposted with gratitude. 

ICE COLD KILLINGS MUST STOP

 

COFFEE BEANS & BEINGS / COLD CLIMATE, HOT COFFEE

 A coffee mug steaming beside a frost-rimmed window, the Nuuk Harbor barely visible beyond.

There is something about Nuuk, Greenland (Pop. 20,000) that encourages people to lower their voices and stay a little longer. In winter, the light lingers sideways and pale, the harbor ice creaks like an old ship, and cafés become unofficial embassies. 

Nosy blog journalists passing through, climate researchers thawing out after the field, aid workers, civil servants, and yes, the occasional intelligence type all understand the same rule here: if you want to listen, you order coffee and don’t rush it. 

In a city where everyone knows everyone, anonymity isn’t achieved by hiding, but by blending in—one cup at a time, hands wrapped around porcelain, eyes down, ears open. 

Nuuk’s best coffeehouses reward that patience. 

They are not loud, performative spaces, but warm interiors built for conversation, note-taking, and watching weather move across the windows. Coffee here is serious without being precious, and hospitality is direct, almost elemental. These are places where news travels softly, where silence is respected, and where a well-pulled espresso can feel like a small act of resistance against the cold. What follows is a short walk through three cafés that quietly define Nuuk’s daily rhythm.

 

Caffè Pascucci. With its Italian espresso roots and outdoor seating when weather allows, Caffè Pascucci is more public-facing than the others. It’s a place for quick exchanges, sharp shots of espresso, and watching Nuuk move past at street level. Less secretive, more social, it offers a different kind of warmth—the warmth of motion and visibility. 

Kaffivik. Near the heart of downtown Nuuk, Kaffivik roasts its own beans and decorates its walls with work by a local Inuit artist, giving the space a sense of authorship rather than branding. It feels lived-in, not curated. Conversations tend to stay low and unhurried, and it’s the sort of place where people read the same book for weeks. The coffee is confident and consistent, and the welcome feels genuine rather than transactional. 

Café Neko. Inside the Nuuk Center, Café Neko (above) is clean, calm, and quietly dependable. The minimalist interior invites lingering without pressure, making it popular with locals who want to sit, think, or work without being noticed. It’s often cited as the city’s most reliable all-around café—strong coffee, friendly service, and an atmosphere that never competes with your thoughts.

FAREWELL FRIDAY / CITY'S WAR WITH ITS OWN HISTORY

After. City's gutted preservation spirit allowed demolition of 1912 craftsman style bungalow in Mission Hills despite large outcry from citizens and preservationists.  City's lack of sensitivity to preservation is highlighted once again by historic leadership past and present.

"A Breakdown in Collaboration" - Former City Officials Sound Alarm on Dysfunctional Management of San Diego’s Preservation Program 

 SAN DIEGO, CA - January 7, 2026 - A coalition of 17 former staff leaders and board members of the San Diego Historical Resources Board (HRB) has issued a formal letter to City leadership (read here), charging that the City’s Historical Resources Program has become professionally isolated and administratively dysfunctional. The group is calling for immediate administrative reform to restore the transparency and collaborative spirit that once defined San Diego’s preservation efforts. 

 The signatories, which include retired senior planners, former board chairs, and a past State Historic Preservation Officer, argue that the program now managed within the Development Services Department has lost the independence and transparency that once defined it. 

 The group highlights a critical shift in departmental culture: 

• Loss of Public Collaboration. Former officials cite growing concerns regarding "diminishing communication and collaboration" between HRB staff and the public, noting that the principles of openness and mutual respect that once fostered confidence in the process have been replaced by administrative barriers and a loss of meaningful review. 

• Operational Inefficiency. Despite having more staff than in decades past, the program is currently processing only a fraction of the resources it once handled. 

• Administrative Red Tape. The length of designation reports has been allowed to balloon to over 160 pages, creating "administrative barriers" that drive up costs for the public without improving effectiveness. 

• Erosion of Expert Input. The letter protests the administrative decision to relegate the Design Assistance Subcommittee to a purely advisory role, removing a key mechanism for ensuring quality preservation outcomes. 

• Conflicting Priorities. The letter notes that the department’s current focus appears to prioritize new construction at the expense of community character and environmental stewardship. "We served during a period when the City’s preservation program was defined by its effectiveness, fairness, and spirit of collaboration," the letter states. "By recalling these productive partnerships—built on trust, access, and shared purpose—we urge a renewed commitment to these values." 

 The former officials urge the Mayor and City Council to address these administrative and staffing issues to ensure the long-term vitality of San Diego’s historic resources. 

Before: Red tape sinks Red Bungalow

THE FOODIST / AMBITIOUS MUSEUM CAFETERIA

 

A Mesa do CAM, a farm to table success story via CulinaryBackstreets.com 

 GUEST BLOG / By Austin Bush--At Rua Marques de Fronteira 2, in Lisbon, Portugal, we didn’t expect to find one of Lisbon’s most radical kitchens behind a self-service counter and a line of people holding trays. But that’s exactly the trick A Mesa do CAM plays on visitors. It may look like a museum cafeteria, but upon closer inspection (and a few bites), it reveals itself as one of the most ambitious farm-to-table projects in the Portuguese capital. 

The space, above, sits inside the Calouste Gulbenkian Museum’s renovated Centro de Arte Moderna (or CAM). At first glance, the setup seems familiar. A long counter with prepared foods, trays, a dish of the day with a Portuguese tilt, and customizable bowls. 

Guests then carry their trays to the restaurant’s black, curiously asymmetrical tables, a hint that A Mesa do CAM is a different kind of museum eatery. Mesa means “table” in Portuguese, and these surfaces, designed by architect Kengo Kuma (who also oversaw the museum’s renovations), each have a different footprint. When slotted together in a specific configuration, they form a single oversized table used for events. 

A Mesa do CAM is overseen by Craveiral Farmhouse, a sustainable farm and hotel in the Alentejo, who brought in chef-restaurateur André Magalhães (of Taberna da Rua das Flores fame) to make the project pop. The mission: serve food quickly without sacrificing quality, all while staying faithful to Craveiral’s circular, zero-waste philosophy. 

 “Everything that comes from the farm is transported in electric cars,” Magalhães says. “And then, those same cars take back all of the organic stuff that’s generated here.” The compost then enriches the soil at the farm, and the cycle begins again. Even the ceramic dishes, made by Studio Neves, follow sustainable production methods. There are no paper cups, no single-use anything. Napkins are made of fabric and take-away containers just aren’t part of the equation. 

In addition to the cafeteria, Magalhães has also created an a la carte menu, meaning the space can serve as a quick museum pit stop or a dining venue – or both at once. To match this flexibility, Magalhães developed dishes grounded in Portuguese gastronomy, with occasional forays into Spanish and Japanese cuisines. ”The public is super eclectic,” he said. “We have to please foreigners who aren’t very familiar with Portuguese food, but also locals. It’s a balance that’s hard to achieve.” 

We sat down with Magalhães on a weekday afternoon, when he walked us through nearly the entire menu, which is available during lunch from Thursday to Monday, and at dinner from Thursday to Sunday (on Saturdays, the museum is open until 9PM). A common thread at A Mesa do CAM is vegetables. 

Working closely with Craveiral Farmhouse and other small producers in Portugal, Magalhães has created a menu that positively pops with greens, oranges, reds, and other vegetal hues depending on the time of year. Garden Vegetables with Fermented Sauce is the dish that probably best expresses this: seasonal produce briefly grilled, then coated in a silky, deliciously savory sauce made from vegetable broth (using peels and off-cuts) and a sourdough starter 

 

The Creamy Garden Vegetable Rice carries the same spirit, as does a simple but bold Caesar Salad. Even the meatier dishes hinge on greens: the carb element of Pork Belly with Vinhais-Style Couscous and Turnip Greens boasts a practically emerald hue, and the smoky Sirloin Steak shines thanks to what may be Lisbon’s most vibrant esparregado, the local take on creamed spinach. 

 Some dishes go beyond Portugal, such as the Russian Salad with Ajitama Egg and Anchovies, which tastes like something we might order at a bar in Madrid, while the Cod “Brás” Style with Olive Powder is one of the better versions we’ve had of this domestic staple in Lisbon. 

But the dish that stopped us completely was a dessert: Gatnabour, a rice pudding from Armenia reimagined as a tribute to Calouste Gulbenkian, the museum’s namesake, who was ethnically Armenian. Cardamom and other spices rush forward first, followed by the zing of acidic fruit, the richness of milk, and a balanced sweetness from date and pomegranate molasses. The first bite felt electric and we left thinking it might just be one of the best desserts in Lisbon. 

DESIGN / ART DECO'S INDUSTRIAL SIDE

Final post of PillartoPost.org's year-long celebration of the 100th anniversary of the Art Deco Movement 

It’s a GMC. 

More precisely, it’s a 1930s GMC light-duty truck, built by General Motors Truck Company. 

What can we learn from the image: 

• The grille badge reads “GMC TRUCKS”, which was GMC’s standard branding in the mid-to-late 1930s. 

• The horizontal grille bars and rounded hood profile match GMC styling from roughly 1937–1939. 

• The overall body and cab design align with GMC’s streamlined commercial trucks rather than Chevrolet’s slightly more utilitarian variants of the same era. 

* The lettering on the door—J. Kornely Hardware Co.—is the owner’s business, not the manufacturer. 

So the clean identification is: GMC (General Motors Truck Company), late 1930s. A working truck, but very much a product of Detroit’s Art Deco–era design confidence. 

AMERICANA / NANCY PELOSI

Nancy Pelosi

MADAM SPEAKER! 

GUEST BLOG / By Susan Page, USA TODAY--Nancy Pelosi isn't given to regrets, but she now finds herself preparing to return to California while President Donald Trump remains in power in Washington. And there still hasn't been a woman elected president. "I always thought that a woman would be president of the United States long before a woman would be speaker of the House," Pelosi told USA TODAY in an exclusive interview after announcing her retirement, the end of nearly 40 years in Congress. 

The men who ran things − "poor babies," she called them − weren't exactly welcoming when she tried to join their ranks. "It's not a glass ceiling, it's a marble ceiling," she recalled. "I thought certainly the American people are far ahead of the Congress in terms of their acceptance or their enthusiasm for a woman to be president of the United States." 

 Since she was elected the first female speaker nearly two decades ago, though, the two women nominated for president, Hillary Clinton in 2016 and Kamala Harris in 2024, have both been defeated, both by Trump. Indeed, his unexpected victory over Clinton prompted Pelosi to set aside her tentative plans to retire then. All that has tempered Pelosi's optimism, or at least her timetable, for seeing a woman in the Oval Office. "I think it's probably − maybe not in my lifetime, but within this next generation, there'll be a woman," she said. 

More: 'We ain't ready.' Michelle Obama says the country doesn't want a woman president. Was former first lady Michelle Obama right when she said last month that America wasn't ready for that idea? "I don't know," Pelosi mused, then acknowledged, "I respect what she said, and I see the evidence of the two campaigns." Even though Clinton carried the popular vote, winning the Electoral College has proven to be "a tall order." 

After decades of friendship, a breach with Biden Democrats nominated Harris for president after President Joe Biden withdrew just 107 days before the election amid concerns about his age and mental acuity. Pelosi played an important role in that decision, meeting with Biden and citing polls that challenged his belief he could win in November. 

He heeded her counsel, but despite decades of political friendship, the two have never spoken again. "I'm saddened by it because I love him and I respect him, but I respect his decision in that regard," Pelosi said. She added, "He did make a lovely statement when I announced my future plans, and I am grateful to him for that." Biden's written statement called Pelosi "the best Speaker of the House in American history." 

 Meanwhile, Trump told reporters she was "an evil woman" who "did the country a great service by retiring." In the end, Pelosi said, the decision to retire from Congress after 20 terms − 20 TERMS − wasn't hard to reach. "It was time," she said in the Dec. 11 interview. "I mean, I've been ready for a while." While she kept her decision secret until dramatically revealing it in a video last month, "I thought that I probably wouldn't run again" for some time. 

There was a reason she kept that quiet, she added, as though stating the most obvious thing in the world: "You can't make yourself a lame duck." Not if you're Nancy D'Alesandro Pelosi, the daughter of a three-term Baltimore mayor who became the most powerful woman in the history of the United States. She negotiated passage of historic legislation with Democratic presidents Barack Obama and Biden, and she was the nemesis of Republican ones, of President George W. Bush over the Iraq war and of Trump over, well, everything. 

But if Democrats regain control of the House in next year's midterms − a prospect Pelosi describes as a certainty, given the president's sagging approval ratings − she doesn't think impeaching Trump should be on the agenda. She led two impeachments against him during his first presidential term. "No," she said. "That's not an incidental thing, to say we're going to do that. No, there has to be cause; there has to be reason." 

Instead, what congressional Democrats should do during the last two years of Trump's second term is hold the line and pave the path for regaining the White House in 2028. "We won't be able to get his signature on things, maybe," she said of Trump, "but we'll be able to slow down the terror that he is inflicting on the country." A slower gait, a less glorious view 

She is 85 now. "I'm old!" she exclaims at one point, sounding slightly surprised. Her gait is a bit more uncertain these days, but her posture during an hour-long conversation was as ramrod straight as when she arrived in town in 1987. She wore a fire-engine red pantsuit and her signature stiletto heels, back after recovering from a fall and hip replacement surgery a year ago. Being "speaker emerita," the honorific she devised for her unique status, lacks the power and perks that came with being speaker or Democratic minority leader. She had led the party in one post or the other for two decades, from 2003 to 2023. 

Consider: The speaker's suite, steps off the House floor, commands the best view in Washington, a sweeping vista of the National Mall. Now her quarters in the Longworth House Office Building, as the representative of the 11th district of California, offer a view of the wall of the Rayburn House Office Building next door. 

 The first thing visitors see is a framed poster that then-Massachusetts Sen. Edward Kennedy gave her, showing a smiling Pelosi surrounded by pictures of the 51 male House speakers who preceded her. In the hallway outside is a large bronze plaque honoring the law enforcement officers who defended the Capitol on Jan. 6, 2021, when rioters stormed the ceremonial counting of Electoral College votes that would affirm Biden's victory over Trump. 

"Their heroism will never be forgotten," it reads. Pelosi's contempt for Trump, on public display when she stood behind him and shredded his speech text after the 2020 State of the Union, hasn't cooled. She calls his administration "corrupt, incoherent, chaotic, cruel" and his political priorities "sick." 

As for her legacy, she calls the passage of the Affordable Care Act in 2010 her proudest achievement, and the failure to enact gun legislation to curb mass shootings at schools and elsewhere her biggest disappointment. 'Not so fast on the epitaph' She acknowledges that her days of wielding power are over. "I have, shall we say, no power right now, nor would I − I'll have even less when I'm not in Congress," she said. 

"But that doesn't mean I'm without influence." She will continue to press the issues she cares most about, and she'll be ready to offer "advice, if people want it." She doesn't dismiss speculation that she is likely to endorse Connie Chan, a member of the San Francisco Board of Supervisors and a candidate in a crowded field to succeed Pelosi in Congress. "I don't plan to do anything right now," she replied. The state Democratic convention is in February, "and we'll see how that goes." 

Pelosi expressed confidence that her daughter, Christine, will win her bid for a California state senate seat in November and that Democrats will regain control of the U.S. House. "We only need three seats for Hakeem [Jeffries, the Democratic leader] to be speaker," she said. "I want more like 30." But her agenda ahead sounds more personal than political. 

Her husband, Paul, is "doing OK" but still dealing with the trauma from the brutal assault at their San Francisco home by a hammer-wielding assailant, now sentenced to life in prison. "I feel terrible because they were looking for me; they get him," she said. "He pays the physical price; our children pay it in trauma." She also wants to be more available to friends who are having "ups and downs." 

People "say, well, what are you going to do next?" she said with an edge of exasperation. "And how about, would you consider this or that? And I said, 'I don't have to do anything; I'm old! I don't have to do anything else.'" 

Years from now, what epitaph would she like on her tombstone? "Not so fast on the epitaph," she replied crisply. But she noted that on Veterans Day, she had placed flowers on the gravesite of her friends and predecessors, Phil Burton and Sala Burton, and admired the messages they had chosen. "His life was service; his love was the people," his epitaph read. Hers: "She cared." 

Susan Page, Washington Bureau chief of USA TODAY, is the author of "Madam Speaker: Nancy Pelosi and the Lessons of Power." 

ROBERT FROST / THE TEMPERATURE OF OUR DOOM

 

A Poem by Robert Frost from the public domain 

FIRE AND ICE 

Some say the world will end in fire, 

Some say in ice. 

From what I’ve tasted of desire 

I hold with those who favor fire. 

But if it had to perish twice, 

I think I know enough of hate 

To say that for destruction ice 

Is also great 

And would suffice. 

Robert Frost’s “Fire and Ice” endures because it reduces civilizational ruin to nine merciless lines. In the first quarter of the twenty-first century, its relevance intensifies. We argue obsessively over whether our undoing will come as fire or ice—rage or indifference—when Frost’s warning is that either will do. Our politics now veers between the spectacle of fury and the quieter, more lethal chill: the erosion of norms, the thinning of empathy, the bureaucratization of cruelty. Desire, when unexamined and absolute, burns institutions to ash; hatred, when calm and procedural, leaves them standing but empty. To read Frost now is not an exercise in literary nostalgia. It is a civic reckoning. The poem asks a question we would rather postpone: not whether we will destroy ourselves, but by which temperature—and why we keep choosing it. 

“Fire and Ice” is one of those poems that seems simple until you stop and let it stare back. It is only nine lines long, built from two elements every reader already understands. But its brevity is deceptive. Frost compresses an argument about human ruin so tightly that it can pass for a proverb, then quietly reveal itself as an indictment. 

“Fire and Ice” was first published in 1920 in Harper’s Magazine and later collected in Frost’s 1923 volume New Hampshire. 

That moment matters. 

Frost was writing in the aftermath of the First World War, when modern civilization had already demonstrated how efficiently it could destroy itself. Yet the poem does not concern itself with armies or technology. It looks inward. Its subject is not war but temperament. 

The opening lines sound almost casual. “Some say the world will end in fire, some say in ice.” It reads like a parlor debate, the kind people use to make fear manageable by turning it into conversation. Frost is not interested in the science of apocalypse. He is interested in character. Fire and ice are not natural forces here so much as human ones. Fire is desire. Want. Appetite. Greed. Lust. Ambition. It is the heat that convinces people they are moving toward something meaningful even as they scorch what lies beneath them. Fire is loud and persuasive. It announces itself as passion and often passes for virtue.

 Frost admits he has seen enough of it to believe it could end everything. 

Ice is where the poem deepens. 

Ice is hate, but not the dramatic kind. It is not shouting or violence. It is the long refusal to warm. The decision to harden. The satisfaction some people take in withholding empathy and calling it discipline or realism. Ice is also indifference, the shrug that says not my problem. 

History has shown that indifference can kill just as reliably as rage. 

The poem’s most unsettling moment comes when Frost refuses to choose between them. He offers no warning, no plea for reform. He simply notes that either would suffice. 

That phrase lands with devastating calm. 

The end of the world does not require spectacle or catastrophe.

 Ordinary human habits are enough. The craft reinforces the message. The rhyme is tight, almost playful, like a childhood verse. The language is plain. Nothing is ornamental. Frost lets simplicity do the work, and that restraint makes the conclusion feel inevitable. 

The poem does not argue. It informs. If read today, Frost’s clarity is the lasting discomfort. The world does not end because we fail to imagine better outcomes. It ends because we continue rehearsing the same destructive impulses, convinced they are harmless, convinced they are justified, convinced they are not enough to matter. 

Sad to differ--to know we see the face of our executioner every time we glance into the mirror. 

ICE. "Snowfall, 1890," by Italy's Francesco Filippini.  A serene glance at a rural winter scene capturing the chill of rural life after a snowfall.  From the Galleria d'arte moderna di Milanoe.

SUNDAY REVIEW / A NOVEL FOR THOSE WHO LIKED TV'S "SLOW HORSES"

The Collaborators by Michael Idov (Scribner)   

Before diving into Michael Idov’s fun, entertaining new espionage novel, The Collaborators, a brief reassurance that the author himself playfully voids: no cats were harmed in the writing of this book.   

But early on, Idov gives us a sly parable—a lonely farmer, a cunning coyote, and a barnful of half-wild cats whose loyalty shifts with every change in the wind. The farmer thinks he’s in charge. The coyote thinks he’s smarter. The cats, of course, collaborate with whoever feeds them last. The fable isn’t cute; it’s a thesis statement. In Idov’s world, collaboration isn’t treason or virtue. It’s survival.   

That theme runs straight into the novel’s engine: Ari Falk, a disillusioned CIA officer, and Maya Chou, a wealthy Los Angeles exile whose troubles suddenly intersect with the geopolitical mess stretching across Latvia, Berlin, and Moscow. Idov’s background as a journalist and screenwriter shows—his Russia is rendered with firsthand textures: the oligarch-era decay, the backroom promises, the “friendships” that dissolve the moment they become inconvenient.   

The pacing? Propulsive. The plot jumps continents with the agility of a well-budgeted limited series. Falk brings the weary craft of someone who has read too many top-secret cables. Maya brings emotional volatility and social access money can buy but never fully control. Together they form the kind of odd partnership spy fiction always hopes to achieve—uneasy, believable, and tinged with fatalism.   

Idov’s strengths land hard. His Moscow feels authentic. His dialogue crackles. The bureaucratic rot inside Western intelligence services feels depressingly recognizable. Reviewers have praised the novel’s sense of lived-in post-Soviet reality and its sharp, sometimes cinematic set pieces. The book is fun, fast, and occasionally fearless.   

But it’s not without quirks. Some plot turns feel engineered for the screen rather than the page—one too many tight corners, one too many globe-trotting leaps. Maya’s transformation from heiress to operator can feel abrupt if you’re measuring authenticity with a protractor. And the tradecraft itself leans more toward stylish tension than meticulous realism.   

Even so, The Collaborators succeeds on the level that matters most: it entertains while quietly poking at the moral knots of the current geopolitical moment. Idov suggests that in a world run by power, money, intelligence agencies, and the myths nations tell about themselves, everyone is a collaborator at some point. Some knowingly. Some desperately. Some like those cats—merely trying to stay warm and out of the jaws of local coyotes.   

Recommended for readers who enjoy contemporary spy fiction with a modern bite. Call it 4 out of 5 stars—a slick, muscular thriller with enough insight to elevate it above the genre’s usual churn. 

COFFEE BEANS & BEINGS / CLASSY BERLIN LOCATION

Five Elephant is a dependable stop for well-made coffee in Berlin, the kind of place locals return to without much discussion. The company began roasting in 2010 and now operates a small group of cafés across the city, along with a bakery. The spaces are straightforward and functional, and the focus stays where it should: on the coffee. 

Pictured above, is one of the best-known locations.  It sits in Berlin-Mitte at Alte Schönhauser Straße 14, 10119 Berlin, a short walk from Rosenthaler Platz. The narrow storefront opens directly onto the street, with a few stools outside and just enough room inside to order, drink, and move on.  Berlin’s coffee culture favors substance over show, and Five Elephant reflects that sensibility. The roastery works closely with producers, emphasizes traceability, and avoids unnecessary embellishment in its roasting style. 

The goal is clarity in the cup rather than novelty. The current featured coffee comes from Tadese Teko, a producer in Ethiopia’s Yirgacheffe region. This washed lot is sourced from Tadese’s eight-hectare farm, which is larger than most in the area and allows for full single-producer traceability. 

Unlike many coffees processed at regional washing stations that blend cherries from hundreds of farms, this release remains distinct and consistent from harvest to roast. Brewed simply, the coffee shows a clean, balanced profile. Apricot leads, followed by light floral notes and a tea-like character reminiscent of Earl Grey. 

There is a restrained citrus acidity that adds brightness without sharpness, and a soft, lightly sweet finish that varies slightly depending on the brewing method. The overall impression is precise and well structured. Five Elephant succeeds by staying out of the way of the coffee itself. The roasting highlights origin and process without exaggeration. This Tadese Teko lot is bright and floral, but above all it is clear and well defined, a solid example of careful sourcing and thoughtful roasting done without pretense. 

SAILING WITH JENNIFER & RUSSEL / ANCHORING OUR LOVE FOR THE PACIFIC NORTHWEST

Sailing toward the San Juan Islands, Summer 2025

Plus, Walkie-Talkie Tech Makes Sailing Easier 

 By Jennifer Silva Redmond, Author of Honeymoon at Sea. Next in a continuing series of liveaboard (and off) adventures.  Note: See map of San Juan Islands at end of this post.

You may have heard the definition of sailing, as penned by one witty writer, as being: "the slowest, most expensive and uncomfortable way to travel third class." Having been stuck in the boatyard doing repairs through most of our planned vacation time in 2024—that covered both the slow and expensive part—Russel and I finally got the boat into the water at the end of July. Though we’d planned a summer-long cruise, we knew that three weeks on board a sailboat in the San Juan Islands would still be a glorious gift, so we purposefully banned all talk of previous expectations, and headed out to enjoy the end of summer. 

 That first morning we left the marina in Port Townsend in a dense fog so we stopped at a favorite spot at nearby Fort Worden State Park. We’d purchased a State Park Mooring Permit for our boat, so all we had to do was pick up the chain on an empty mooring ball, fasten our mooring line to it, and we’d be done for the day. 

Before I went up on deck, Russel handed me one of a pair of new headset walkie-talkies called “marriage savers,” for use during mooring or anchoring. Always looking for the best sailing technology for us, he’d researched the best kind of communication devices, so we could avoid yelling at each other (it is a fact that yelling out of necessity leads to irritation and more yelling, which can lead to silly arguments). I’d doubted how useful the headsets would be, but quickly saw how nice it was to be able to stand far up on the bow with my mooring-grabber pole while he was at the wheel and direct him to the ball without shouting. 

 The next day we motored across the Strait in calm seas but lumpy seas. Russel let me take the wheel because he knows I can get seasick in that sort of cross-sea and driving helps me. Finally, the conditions improved and we sailed up to Spencer Spit, at the north end of Lopez Island. Lopez Island, at thirty square miles, is one of the largest of the San Juan Islands, only Orcas Island and San Juan Island itself are larger. It is mostly farmland, surrounded by gorgeous rocky bays and beaches. One of the best know of these beaches is Spencer Spit State Park. The beach—you guessed it, is a long spit that almost joins the state park to steep rocky Frost island. 

 On any given day during boating season—meaning late spring, summer, and early fall—the spit will be surrounded by sailboats and powerboats, half at anchor and the rest on one of the park’s mooring balls. People also come from the town across the island (confusingly also called Lopez Island) to the state park’s beaches and hiking paths. I like Spencer Spit, not only for its simple beauty, but because the anchorage is calm and protected, so there’s little movement in the boat, except for the slight bouncing when the wakes from passing ferries tips us side to side. Of course, as with any mooring situation, there’s the time in the night when the tide and currents switch and the ball comes tap-tap-tapping along the bow, which always wakes us both up. 

 The next morning, we got up and out in the dinghy right after breakfast (earlier than he’d prefer, but a bit later than I’d have gone on my own) and explored the park on foot, walking past the small lagoon out to the tip of the spit and back, then strolling up the dirt road and meandering out a leafy forest path to another vista point where yet another footpath wound back down to the sand. Massive pieces of bleached driftwood logs lay in heaps beside the lagoon and along the south side of the spit, like piles of giant Jenga pieces. Colorful kayaks illuminated the gray and tan beach, spawn of the rental booth that provides one- and two-person kayaks and SUPs. I’d kayaked on our last visit, and didn’t feel motivated to do more than ramble on foot. 

Blind Bay anchorage on Shaw Island

When we left Spencer Spit three days later we sailed up to Shaw Island and anchored in Blind Bay on the north side of the island, across from Orcas Island. The ferries run up and down that channel frequently, along with plenty of pleasure craft and fishing boats, which makes it challenging to navigate. But the islands are “steep to” as mariners say, meaning the land drops off abruptly to deep water, so you can keep your vessel close to which ever side you find yourself on when a huge Washington State Ferry goes by. 

 We motored in to find that all the state park mooring balls off Blind Island State Park were taken, so we anchored in the middle of the big bay. With my new headset on, it was very nice to be able to talk quietly to Russel instead of yelling from the cockpit while we debated what spot would be the perfect place, and while he dropped the anchor and I backed up the boat to set the anchor in the bottom. Not long after that, a couple came in to anchor and I had to laugh at how much they yelled back and forth in the process. Now I was feeling smug about our quiet communication. 

 Another headset that has been a “marriage saver” is Russel’s noise-canceling earphones by Bose. One reason is he likes to listen to music all day—even when writing and working—and watch intense aviation videos, while I do frequent Zoom calls, listen to podcasts, and even play games with sound effects. The bottom line is we all need alone time, or at least time to feel alone, to avoid maxing out on together time, and imposing quiet time allows us to do that on a small boat. 

 Blind Island State Park, at two acres, may be the smallest state park in Washington. We dinghied over to see it the next morning, beaching our dinghy on the tiny beach while we hiked up the single hill to see the view of the strait and the bay and then back down to the single beach (yes, our Portland Pudgy dinghy is named Peep). 

 I need to walk every day and Russel often joins me, unless he can bike or row instead. The next morning he said he’d drop me off to walk, because the bay’s waterfront is private. He rowed me to shore where three signs declared PRIVATE BEACH, NO TRESPASSING. I couldn’t spot anywhere to cross the beach to get to the public road and, envisioning a confrontation with an angry homeowner, I was ready to give up. But Russel spotted a man working on his own private dock and rowed us over. After I very politely explained the situation to the guy, he very nicely said I could cross his property to the road and I thanked him with a big smile. 

I thanked Russel as he rowed us toward the beach, saying I would never have approached the man on the dock, and he laughed, saying, “We’re a good team, because I never would have asked him so nicely!” Once ashore, I put on my sneakers, waved goodbye to Russel and walked off. The quiet road passed apple orchards and small farms, and I enjoyed taking photos and stretching my legs. An SUV passed me and braked, clearly waiting for me to come up beside it. It was the young man from the dock and a smiling woman who asked if I wanted a ride to town which I gratefully declined. When I reached the muddy tidelands at the end of the bay I spotted Russel rowing toward me. I waved and kept walking, knowing he prefers to row with no passenger. He picked me up from a gravel beach by the boat, still grousing on my behalf about private beaches. 

 

Friday Harbor on San Juan Island; image taken from F,H. House Hotel

The next day we visited the tiny settlement, basically the 100-year-old Shaw Island General Store and the ferry landing. Bike riders and kayakers come by ferry to explore Shaw Island, and plenty more tourists come by car and return to Friday Harbor or Anacortes on an afternoon ferry after a cone of Lopez Island Creamery ice cream from the General Store or a local beer at the handy Captain’s Bar by the landing. After we poked around the place, Russel said, “Come on, I know you’re dying to take a longer walk,” which was true. We strolled along the tree-lined road quite a ways, and talked to a friendly woman out mowing a large property. Later, stopping to take a photo, I saw Russel framing the same shot: brick-red madrone trunks against blue sky. 

Left. Author posed next to Madrone tree, Stuart Island.
That night, the top of our boat’s dining table came off before dinner. We’d noticed a few screws lying on the floor the previous day, but couldn’t figure out where they were from. Russel had just the right replacement screws to fasten the table back onto its base, and it was soon back in action. 

 Heading west from Shaw and through the small scattered islands at the tip of San Juan Island led us to Stuart Island where we anchored in Prevost Harbor at Stuart Island State Park (the mooring balls were taken, again, and we did put down the anchor quite peacefully again). We took a short stroll the next day which just whetted my appetite for a real hike. I pointed out the Turn Point Lighthouse out on the point, but Russel and his knees balked at the idea of an 8-mile round trip. We compromised on motoring the dinghy to the County dock the next morning and hiking out to the lighthouse from there. The hike was longer than he would have liked, with a lot of knee-testing downhill stretches, but the views of the east coast of Vancouver Island were worth it. 

 Roche Harbor, located at the northwest corner of San Juan Island, is the first spot many Canadian boaters reach when coming from Victoria or Sydney. The Customs office is right on the dock in the marina, beside a waterside fish market. We’d visited Roche Harbor before and loved it—my favorite parts were the incredible sculpture park and simply strolling the long waterfront, admiring the historic buildings of the Roche Harbor Resort. Original poems are posted in many locations, a very cool touch. 

 Friday Harbor, the larger town on San Juan Island has plenty of waterfront seafood dining options and a plethora of shopping opportunities, including an incredible lavender store and a sweet little wine shop that both feature local products. I loved taking the round-the-island tour bus from one of the two companies near the ferry landing. You can get on and off the bus to see the lighthouse. which we did, or visit a winery, which we didn’t, and gave me a sense of the island’s history. The bus drivers know everything there is to know and are very friendly. There’s so much to see and do in the San Juan Islands, whether you visit by car or by boat, and I am so lucky to get to explore the islands and beaches with my favorite traveling companion and all-around good guy, who’s always a lot of fun—and so very handy to have around. 

Russel Redmond taking in the summer sun at Doe Bay, Orcas Island, Washington.

MAP:

MORE IMAGES:

Turning Point Light House area, Stuart Island

"Peep, the dinghy, beached on Stuart Island. Vancouver Island, Canada in the distance. Below is a terrific view of inland Stuart Island.  Below that is a trail stairway on Stuart.

Notes: An earlier version of this essay was originally published in Womancake Magazine in 2024; it is reprinted here with the permission of that publication. Enjoy Womancake Magazine at: https://www.womancake.com/ Follow Jennifer’s Substack at https://honeymoonatsea.substack.com/ "Honeymoon at Sea: How I Found Myself Living on a Small Boat" can be purchased online or please feel free to order it at your favorite bookstore.