"The Democrats are smug and condescending, and everything they say sounds fake as shit," Hasan Piker, a leftist streamer, said.
By the time I landed at LAX and switched my phone out of airplane mode, Hasan Piker had been streaming for three hours. I put in an earbud and watched as I filed off the plane. Visible behind him were walls of framed fan art, a cardboard cutout of Bernie Sanders sitting in the cold, and Piker's huge puppy, Kaya, taking a nap. Piker had already shown off his "cozyass 'fit" (sweatpants with kitschy bald eagles, a custom pair of platform Crocs), and recounted his experience the previous night at the Streamer Awards, a red-carpet event honoring A-listers on Twitch the popular live-streaming site where he is one of the biggest stars, and the only prominent leftist. He'd begun the day's broadcast by rattling off a standard opening monologue: "Folks, we're live and alive, and I hope all the boys, girls, and enbies"-nonbinary people "are having a fantastic one." To anyone listening for shibboleths, this would have pigeonholed him as a progressive. Also within view, though, were three towers of Zyn cannisters, and a "Make America Great Again" hat, which he sometimes wears ironically. He has the patter of a Rutgers frat bro and the laid-back charisma of a Miami club promoter, both of which he was, briefly, in his early twenties. Now he's thirtythree so old, in streamer years, that his fans call him "unc."
Diese Geschichte stammt aus der March 24, 2025-Ausgabe von The New Yorker.
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Diese Geschichte stammt aus der March 24, 2025-Ausgabe von The New Yorker.
Starten Sie Ihre 7-tägige kostenlose Testversion von Magzter GOLD, um auf Tausende kuratierte Premium-Storys sowie über 8.000 Zeitschriften und Zeitungen zuzugreifen.
Bereits Abonnent? Anmelden
THE FRENZY Joyce Carol Oates
Early afternoon, driving south on the Garden State Parkway with the girl beside him.
UPDATED KENNEDY CENTER 2025 SCHEDULE
April 1—A. R. Gurney’s “Love Letters,” with Lauren Boebert and Kid Rock
ONWARD AND UPWARD WITH THE ARTS BETTING ON THE FUTURE
Lucy Dacus after boygenius.
STEAL, ADAPT, BORROW
Jonathan Anderson transformed Loewe by radically reinterpreting classic garments. Is Dior next?
JUST BETWEEN US
The pleasures and pitfalls of gossip.
INHERIT THE PLAY
The return of “A Streetcar Named Desire” and “Ghosts.”
LEAVE WITH DESSERT
Graydon Carter’s great magazine age.
INTERIORS
The tyranny of taste in Vincenzo Latronico’s “Perfection.”
Naomi Fry on Jay McInerney's "Chloe's Scene"
As a teen-ager, long before I lived in New York, I felt the city urging me toward it. N.Y.C., with its art and money, its drugs and fashion, its misery and elation—how tough, how grimy, how scary, how glamorous! For me, one of its most potent siren calls was “Chloe’s Scene,” a piece written for this magazine, in 1994, by the novelist Jay McInerney, about the then nineteen-year-old sometime actress, sometime model, and all-around It Girl Chloë Sevigny.
