Powerball Numbers Drop, Earth Tilts Slightly Off Axis By L. Marceau, Dave’s Locker Global Bureau (somewhere between the duty-free and the existential dread) The winning Powerball numbers—3, 12, 34, 56, 67, and a Powerball of 9—were announced at 11 p.m. Eastern Standard Time. Within forty-three seconds the news had ping-ponged across undersea cables, leapt over…
Tomorrow, for roughly four minutes and twenty-eight seconds—just enough time for a bad first date or a decent espresso—the Moon will photobomb the Sun. The total solar eclipse will rip a 185-kilometre shadow across the Pacific, graze Easter Island’s blank-eyed moai like a celestial pickpocket, then sprint across Chile and Argentina before vanishing into the…
BERLIN—On a crisp Sunday when most sane humans were still negotiating the terms of their hangovers, 50,000 certified optimists assembled at the Brandenburg Gate to discover, yet again, that the human body was not designed to travel 42.195 km at speed. The 50th anniversary BMW Berlin Marathon—slogan: “The Fastest Course on Earth, Terms & Conditions…
Victor Robles, a man whose passport says “Dominican outfielder” but whose résumé now reads “temporary deity,” scaled a wall in Seattle last night and stole a home run from the collective jaws of defeat. The clip—already looping on every screen from Lagos laundromats to a Kremlin-adjacent sports bar that definitely isn’t bugged—shows Robles levitating above…
The Walking Dead: A Global Tour of the Half-Alive By Our Man in the Departures Lounge If you thought “the walking dead” was just cable television’s longest-running excuse for splatter makeup, you haven’t cleared immigration lately. From Wall Street to the winding visa queues of Dubai, the planet is awash with ambulatory corpses who nevertheless…
John Stapleton, one might say, is the human equivalent of that last boarding call at Heathrow: easy to miss if you blink, yet somehow critical to the entire itinerary. To the untrained ear, the name summons visions of an amiable British breakfast-TV uncle asking whether you prefer your toast cremated or merely scorched. Yet Stapleton—now…
Abergavenny’s Annual Bread Circus: How a Welsh Market Town Became the UN General Assembly of Competitive Jam By L. Valente, Senior Correspondent, Dave’s Locker International ABERGAVENNY, Wales – While COP negotiators elsewhere argue over carbon budgets that will be ignored by next quarter’s earnings calls, 35,000 pilgrims have descended on this former Norman border town…
Every April, while the rest of the planet toggles between existential dread and the next dopamine hit from a dancing-cat reel, the ancient Suffolk county town of Ipswich stages its Half Marathon—a thirteen-point-one-mile exercise in collective denial that is quietly redefining what it means to be “globalised.” To the untrained eye it’s just 2,000 Brits…
The Ballad of Duc Phuc: How a Vietnamese Pop Star Accidentally Became the World’s Mood Ring By Dave’s International Desk (still hung-over from last night’s geopolitical karaoke) HANOI—On the face of it, the rise of Nguyễn Đức Phúc—stage name Duc Phuc, a moniker that sounds like a minor Scandinavian deity or an IKEA lamp—should be…
Arc’teryx Fireworks Display: When Outerwear Brands Decide to Burn Money for Sport By Lucía “No, That’s Not a Typo” Valdez, International Correspondent-at-Large Vancouver—The same city that once apologized for being too polite—twice—has now apologized for being too loud. Last night, the outdoor-apparel monolith Arc’teryx staged what it billed as “a vertical light symphony celebrating human…
**The M3 Manifesto: How a British Traffic Jam Became a Global Metaphor for Existential Despair** LONDON—In the grand theater of human suffering, few performances are as consistently underwhelming yet universally relatable as the M3 traffic jam. While the BBC dutifully reports “severe delays between junctions 9 and 14” with the same gravitas they might announce…
# The Global Pothole: How Asteroid Craters Remind Us We’re All Sitting Ducks Somewhere in the Yucatán Peninsula, there’s a 180-kilometer scar that serves as Earth’s most dramatic reminder that we’re essentially living on a cosmic dartboard. The Chicxulub crater—named after the Mexican town that now sits atop ground zero for the dinosaur apocalypse—has become…
