The original celebrity activist on regret and radical empathy in the age of Trump.
IT’S THE FIRST FULL day of the Traverse City Film Festival in Michigan, and outside the State Theatre, Jane Fonda’s 1970 mug shot is blown up to poster size. Even if you’ve seen it countless times, the photo will still stop you in your tracks: the undeniable movie-star glamour, the fist raised confidently in the air, the almost blasé look on her face, as though getting arrested (for alleged “drug possession”—actually vitamins) were completely normal.
On the curb, the real-life Jane Fonda gets out of her car and bounds over to embrace Michael Moore, who founded the festival and will be presenting her with a Lifetime Achievement Award later in the evening. She’s wearing a blazer with a one fair wage button on the lapel; yesterday, she served as emcee at a ceremony in Detroit honoring restaurateurs who promote livable wages for their workers. She’s been campaigning around the state for a ballot measure to raise the minimum wage for tipped workers, a movement she got involved with after meeting Saru Jayaraman, an attorney and organizer Fonda calls the Cesar Chavez of restaurant workers.
Fans behind a rope line hold their cell phones aloft, stepping on each other’s feet to snap pictures. As they look on, Fonda walks over to the mug shot—it’s the poster for Jane Fonda in Five Acts, a new documentary about her life from American Masters creator Susan Lacy. Standing beside the famous photo, she raises a fist in the air. The crowd shouts, “We love you, Grace!”—the character she plays opposite Lily Tomlin on the Netflix show Grace and Frankie—and “Jane for president!”
Diese Geschichte stammt aus der August 20, 2018-Ausgabe von New York magazine.
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Diese Geschichte stammt aus der August 20, 2018-Ausgabe von New York magazine.
Starten Sie Ihre 7-tägige kostenlose Testversion von Magzter GOLD, um auf Tausende kuratierte Premium-Storys sowie über 8.000 Zeitschriften und Zeitungen zuzugreifen.
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Drowning in Slop - A thriving underground economy is clogging the internet with AI garbage-and it's only going to get worse.
SLOP started seeping into Neil Clarke's life in late 2022. Something strange was happening at Clarkesworld, the magazine. Clarke had founded in 2006 and built into a pillar of the world of speculative fiction. Submissions were increasing rapidly, but “there was something off about them,” he told me recently. He summarized a typical example: “Usually, it begins with the phrase ‘In the year 2250-something’ and then it goes on to say the Earth’s environment is in collapse and there are only three scientists who can save us. Then it describes them in great detail, each one with its own paragraph. And then—they’ve solved it! You know, it skips a major plot element, and the final scene is a celebration out of the ending of Star Wars.” Clarke said he had received “dozens of this story in various incarnations.”
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