The geopolitics of Covid-19: How will history remember this moment?

An exceptional country in an existential predicament? Most of us have known the United States (US) as the supreme global power that has altered the course of history time and time again. Its prowess in almost any given field – from technology to education – had become equated to an extraordinary case. While we may be critical of the havoc that the US had left in the wake of its foreign policy, we still believed that America was an exception to the rules of global politics. The ordinary rules of the game did not apply in its case. However, ...

Read Full Post

from The Big Picture – The Express Tribune Blog https://ift.tt/2XT1Zf2

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

My Body Is Not a Temple

Soraya Roberts | Longreads | April 2020 | 10 minutes (2,540 words) Your bread is making me sick. I don’t have to eat it. I see it. Everywhere. In every tweet, every photo, every message. It’s spread from all over my social media feed to all over my news feed. Always that round pebbly brown and beige crust. Rustic as fuck. Even if you can’t touch it, smell it, taste it, the starter is the proof. That cement-looking mix with the gas bubbles shoved into those mason jars everyone seems to have. When I see it, all I can think is: Desperation. I think: That bread can’t save you. You will die, maybe even sooner rather than later  — despite the bread. Because that bread is made of yeast. And that yeast is alive, just as you are alive. And just as your body does, it reacts to the world unpredictably. So, if it makes you feel better, write down the exact ingredients, the precise measurements, but your recipe can’t account for random events and neither can you. As uncertain as you are that that
Read more

My Body Is Not a Temple

Soraya Roberts | Longreads | April 2020 | 10 minutes (2,540 words) Your bread is making me sick. I don’t have to eat it. I see it. Everywhere. In every tweet, every photo, every message. It’s spread from all over my social media feed to all over my news feed. Always that round pebbly brown and beige crust. Rustic as fuck. Even if you can’t touch it, smell it, taste it, the starter is the proof. That cement-looking mix with the gas bubbles shoved into those mason jars everyone seems to have. When I see it, all I can think is: Desperation. I think: That bread can’t save you. You will die, maybe even sooner rather than later  — despite the bread. Because that bread is made of yeast. And that yeast is alive, just as you are alive. And just as your body does, it reacts to the world unpredictably. So, if it makes you feel better, write down the exact ingredients, the precise measurements, but your recipe can’t account for random events and neither can you. As uncertain as you are that that
Read more