Global Ravens: The Dark Feathers Steering Our Dystopia While We Pretend to Be in Charge
PARIS – The first time I noticed the ravens, I was sipping a €9 espresso beneath the colonnades of the Palais-Royal, pretending the city’s perpetual strikes were merely performance art. A pair of them—blacker than a minister’s heart on tax day—landed on the winged statue of Mercury, tilted their heads, and stared at me with…