Forget exotic fruits and rare liqueurs, talented Los Angeles bartender Gabe Briseno often finds inspiration in one of the most common pantry staples: honey.
“Most bartenders nowadays use simple syrup as a sweetener,” says Briseno, who currently works at the California outpost of Employees Only. “But honey is also a good one that you can just add a dash of and it just changes the whole cocktail.”
Throughout his career, including stints at famed cocktail bars Honeycut and Faith & Flower, he’s used honey in everything from herbal infusions (he particularly likes pairing it with thyme and basil) to even using a dehydrated honeycomb as a garnish.
Sigmund Freud was the father of psychoanalysis, a pioneering Austrian neurologist who gave us foundational theories about repression, transference, dream analysis, and the concept of the unconscious mind’s division into the id, ego and superego—not to mention, of course, the Oedipal complex. Few men have had a greater impact on modern society than Freud, and yet despite the immense influence of his work, there’s one thing no one has known about him until now, courtesy of Freud: his scientific breakthroughs were facilitated by an early-career encounter with mind-controlling, demon-conjuring hypnotists.
Stunning, right? Let’s just say that Netflix’s Freud is nothing like a traditional biopic, even if showrunners Marvin Kren, Stefan Brunner and Benjamin Hessler’s eight-part foreign-language series (debuting March 23) does ground its action in Freud’s groundbreaking approach to treating—and understanding—the human mind. A period-piece thriller that begins in a vein similar to that of The Alienist and then devolves into unholy supernatural insanity, it’s an affair that won’t win any awards for historical accuracy—but, in the final tally, is better off for succumbing to its own baser impulses.
At least initially, Freud doesn’t tip its hand about the madness to come. In 19th century Austria, enterprising Freud (Robert Finster) attempts to master hypnosis—a practice he believes will allow physicians to tap into the subconscious parts of the mind that govern our behavior. Freud is convinced that people diagnosed with “hysteria” are often suffering from memories of past traumas. That puts him on the outs with his fellow doctors, although compounding Freud’s problems is the fact that his hypnosis talents are so ineffectual that, in a demonstration for his professor and colleagues, he has to resort to having his housekeeper Lenore (Brigitte Kren) pretend to be a patient who’s miraculously cured by his trance-like therapy. He’s a quasi-charlatan whose methods haven’t yet caught up with his revolutionary principles.
Erin Friar is a Morning Editor for The Daily Beast’s Cheat Sheet. She is an avid gardener, and we at Scouted thought, in light of everything going on right now, gardening is a great hobby to pick up. It’s one that I’m interested in learning, but have been too intimidated to try. But as turns out, you can start a garden, even in a small, studio apartment with this helpful tool. Erin, an expert, was kind enough to discuss gardening with me, and offer some advice.
When did you start gardening?
My grandfather had a huge backyard vegetable garden when I was a kid. He would have 45 tomato plants at a time, and summers and falls were consumed with everyone sitting in a breezeway, snapping green and yellow beans. Every indoor surface—window sills, the pool table, counters, spare beds—was lined with ripening tomatoes and Mason jars. My grandmother would get really cranky for weeks from canning everything.
It’s the day after Super Tuesday, and one of America’s leading young socialist thinkers is having a “horrible sense of déjà vu.”
Nathan J. Robinson, 30, is the founder and editor-in-chief of Current Affairs which, since launching in 2015, has become required reading for a generation of young leftists—“dirtbag” or otherwise—and anyone else who finds mainstream political commentators to be a touch out-of-touch. The Current Affairs media empire exists as a lavishly designed bi-monthly magazine and roundtable podcast, but it’s the frequently updated website that garners the most attention.
From a viral explainer titled “How We Know Brett Kavanaugh Is Lying” to a sincere plea to Meghan McCain to “come and join the left,” many of the most-shared articles come from Robinson’s pen. He earned Current Affairs its first viral hit with an early 2016 essay in which he—in hindsight, quite presciently—wrote about why Secretary of State Hilary Clinton would be a weak candidate against Donald Trump, and the Democratic Party needed to rally around Senator Bernie Sanders, who was uniquely suited to counter Trump’s populist rhetoric.
Hello Alfred, a casual butler startup that caters largely to affluent people in large cities, is battling internal unrest as it continues operating during the coronavirus outbreak.
The “Alfreds,” the workers who perform the housekeeping, delivery, and errand services offered by the company, are carrying out a reduced slate of tasks in New York City, the epicenter of the outbreak in the Northeast.
This post contains spoilers for The Walking Dead Season 10, Episode 13, “What We Become.”
As Danai Gurira and her character, Michonne, leave The Walking Dead, it’s safe to say that the series will never be the same. Since she made her debut in the Season 3 premiere, Gurira has been a fan favorite among the cast—and her character’s journey through this post-apocalyptic world has been one of the most satisfying.
But at least if Michonne had to leave, she did so alive—and with a journey that seems to promise we’ll see her again. In Sunday’s installment, confirmed to be Gurira’s last on the show, Michonne discovers a drawing of herself—by Rick. By the end, she’s on a mission to find out if he’s still out there somewhere, with a blessing from Judith. And at the very end of the episode, she discovers a phalanx of strangers ready to depart for… somewhere. It sure looks like this could be connected with the helicopter that picked Rick up.
For a subset of the dance music world, the third (or fourth) weekend in March arrives like the highest of holy days. A crowd of some 170,000 descends on Bayfront Park in Miami to pop MDMA and dance their faces off at Ultra Music Festival, the 72-hour spectacle that helped make EDM a mainstream American genre. Under normal circumstances, Ultra would have ended yesterday. But after the novel coronavirus (COVID-19) triggered closures across the country, the concert was cancelled. Instead, the festival migrated online, announcing a weekend marathon of live DJ sets on SiriusXM. The digital concert would essentially be radio, but rebranded as an upgrade: the “Ultra Virtual Audio Festival.”
Ultranauts, as the corporation calls its fans, did not love the new plan. A day after the new format was announced, Facebook groups popped up calling for diehards to “Storm Ultra 2020, They Can’t Quarantine All of Us,” as one event page put it. “Bring your wireless speakers, friends, hydration packs, kandi, flags and PLUR vibes to Bayfront park,” the moderator wrote. “Facemasks encouraged.”
That page drew over 1,000 interested attendees, until Facebook intervened (“So it turns out,” a would-be guest noted, “they really can quarantine us all.”) Instead, on Friday evening, as 75 million Americans settled in for another night of social distancing, the Ultranauts logged on. “What dimensions does my hydration pack need to be to get in?” a user called X-Mang asked the festival subreddit. “Fuck it,” user joeschmo28 answered. “I’m wearing mine during the livestream.”
Vice President Mike Pence said Sunday that the coronavirus task force, in coordination with the U.S. Centers for Disease Control, would issue guidance this week about how people exposed to the virus could return to work by wearing a mask.
His statement comes as the number of coronavirus cases continues to surge in the U.S. On Sunday, the number of people infected with COVID-19 surpassed 30,000. Four hundred people have died, according to data compiled by Johns Hopkins University.
Pence did not provide any details about why the federal government was making such a move, especially in light of a nationwide shortage of masks, including in hospitals deluged with coronavirus patients.
When I went to bed Thursday night, we had 11,000-something cases in the United States. Friday morning, the TV said there were 14,400 or so. I read Thursday night that “if the number of cases were to continue to double every three days, there would be about a hundred million cases in the United States by May.”
I am terrified in a way I’ve never been of anything in my life. One out of three Americans, if we don’t arrest this spread? That’s someone I know. That’s plenty of someones I know. Maybe me. The peak is 45 days away, they say, though that will vary from place to place. Doctors are reusing masks. We still don’t know where these millions of test kits are. This is going to be a nightmare like this country and the world have never seen.
So you’re damn right I’m terrified, and Donald Trump is a big part of the reason I’m terrified. I say this not with hatred, but just as observed fact. He is constitutionally incapable of rising to this occasion. He didn’t make this crisis, but he’s shown no signs that he’s able to handle this.
If you’ve never heard of Stomp Rockets, I’ll try to explain how they work and you’ll have to see if you can bear with me. First, you slide one of these tubular foam “rockets” down onto its launch tube. Then you jump on a big plastic air-filled bladder, launching the rocket into the air.
Still with me? Good, because that’s the whole of it, more or less. The more is that there are many different kinds of Stomp Rocket sets, including ones with wings that create special flight patterns, glow-in-the-dark and LED-illuminated rockets, dueling rockets you launch simultaneously, and so on.
But basically, it’s just jumping on an air bladder and launching rockets in the air —and it’s awesome. I have spent hours playing with these things with my kids, who are two and six, and who both love the rockets in their own way. My toddler loves watching the older family members launching and standing on my feet as she “helps” me launch rockets.