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Da li ste sigurni?

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Ono što pisac traži od čitaoca nije primena neke apstraktne slobode, već poklon, predaja čitave njegove ličnosti sa svim njenim strastima, predrasudama, simpatijama, seksualnim temperamentom i merilom za vrednosti. Kako se postaje starleta? Haley je radio isti.

Klubovi za biseksualce u Beogradu. Walt mi je rekao da se presele natrag na rubu kreveta. Šta žene privlači kod muškarca. Ne oglašavajte se ako tim putem tražite kurve u Pančevu, tj.

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Naš sin-in-zakon, Harley je posao bio mu je prijenos na novo mjesto. Nedavno je moj 24-year-old kćer i muž bili ovdje za posjet na putu do svog novog posla. Haley i ja imao puno sustići. Išli smo prozor-shopping i lijep ručak treći dan s nama. To mi je dao priliku da razgovaraju žene do žene s mojom kćeri o njoj i Harley. On je bio fizički i emocionalno uvredljiv joj tijekom prvih nekoliko godina zajedno. Uvijek sam bio zabrinut za njenu sigurnost. Haley i ja odvezli u javnom prijevozu sub stanice i krenuo dolje u gradu u tramvaju. Dobili smo off na 16. Mi smo samo bili usput pričajući i šetnju ulicom trgovine. Walt je moje ime. Želite li tablice ovdje ili na našoj strani hoda prehranu? Mi smo još uvijek posluživanje doručka ili ne želite imati neki ručak? Haley mu je rekao da ćemo imati ručak izvana. Walt je bio vrlo pristojan kao što je predao svatko od nas ručak izbornika. Harley ne želi više seksa. Ja sam ga pitao zašto više puta. On samo kaže on previše zauzet. Ja sam toliko uspaljen sam mogao jebati itko ovdje. To je gotovo 6 ustima jer smo vodili ljubav! Ja sam zadržao se s mojim tijelom radeći nekoliko puta tjedno. JA držati moj javne kosu urediše kratko. Upravo sam donno zašto. On je prestao zlostavljanja. Jeste li razgovarali o tome tko? Mogao je biti nekom drugom ženom? Prije nego što bi me moglo odgovoriti, Walt donio naš obrok. Trebam ah dobar hard penis se moja maca! Ja vrsta blushed i Haley nasmijala natrag na njega. Možemo razgovarati o tome tada. Walt i dalje čekati na nas, iako naš obrok. On je mogao reći bili smo učinili. Domaćica je rekao da je Vaš ček već zbrinuta. To je na Walt. Hodao sam natrag za stol. Walt je samo sjeo. Moj Condo je u neposrednoj blizini. Bio sam zabrinut, ali Haley je sve osmjesima. Walt otključati njegova vrata i otišli smo u. Prokletstvo je najveća hrpa penis iza zatvarač. Nikad nisam vidio da je veliki kurac, znam Haley nije bilo. Bio sam se temped. Odjednom Walt pao njegove hlače i to hrpa govorio sam o ispao. Holy crap mora biti 5 do 6 inča dugo i to je bio mekan. Izgledalo je kao bazen skakaonica držati vani. Bio sam temped opet. Pogled na Haley je lice bilo je dovoljno da znam što sam bio idući u obaviti. Hodao sam preko Walt i uzeo držite ovaj konj penis. Nisam ni mogao dobiti moj prst oko nje. Stavio sam kraj njegove mjerne trake na dnu. Ja ga izvukao van i 7, 8, 9, 9 ¾! Moj suprug nije ni blizu tome. Sam pao na koljena i počeo trljati svoje loptice i lagano ga moždani udar. Njezin mali 34b titties su stajali i bradavice su kao tvrdi kako je Walt. Bilo je vrlo malo javnog kosu pokriva joj maca. Vidio sam joj prikupljanje vlage. To mi je okrenut na da vidim svoju kćer u takvom uzgoju način. Ustao sam i ukloniti svoju odjeću. Uzimajući svoju odjeću ispred ovoga tuđinca i moja kćer osjećao sam se kao kurva, ali moje bokove osjetio nevjerojatno. Haley i ja uzeo od ostatka njegove odjeće. Njegovo tijelo je besprijekoran. Walt je imao savršen šest-paket sredinom dijelu, Sandy crvene kose i plavih očiju. Haley ga sjeo na njegov krevet kao da je uzeo njegov penis u ruke i počeo polako ga je tukao off. Ja gurnula njegov gornji dio tijela nazad na madrac i popeo iznad njegove glave. Ja spušten moj muf preko guste brkove, a on preuzeo. Bio sam već prilično mokre i njegov jezik pronašao svoj put u moje razrez. Dospio sam do razvlači moja pička usnama da će mu dati bolji pristup u moj pička. Nije trebalo dugo i on mi je osjećaj orgazma sila koja nikada nisam osjetio prije nego što s mužem. Mogao sam čuti Haley izradu slurping zvukove na Walt ljubavi alat sa svakim moždani udar. Bila je težak da biste dobili što veći dio tog neman penis dolje joj grlo. Bio sam bliži veliki orgazam kao moja utroba zategnuti kada Walt malo dolje na moj klitoris koji me poslao preko ruba. Sam vozio njegovo lice. Gawd ono što osjeća kao što sam počeo da svršiš! Haley se preselili iza mene i sjeo na Walt's penis. Bio je prevelika za nju mala bez dlake pizda da se to sve u jednom trenutku. Walt počeo kretati se kao Haley dolazi dolje. Oni su uskoro u ritmu kao što je nastavio jesti moja maca. Mi smo jebeno kao da je za 10 minuta. Walt iselili ispod nas, a ja je još uvijek na koljenima. Walt mi je rekao da se presele natrag na rubu kreveta. On je rekao da se Haley iznad mene okrenut na isti način. Počeo je funta moja pička nekoliko puta i ušao Haley je pička. Naprijed i natrag kao što je ovaj iz mog maca njezinom. Mi smo bili u stanju nepoznata Haley i I. Walt bio uzimajući blizu prolijevanje njegove hrabrosti usput on je disao i oplakivanje. To me je pogodilo pravo zatim da sam je varao na moj suprug i Haley je previše, ali je do kraja. Imao sam jedan cilj u vidu i da je to dobili Walt da sperma u mojim dubine. Haley je radio isti. Njegov penis je izrastao malo više jer je počeo ejakulirati u njoj i I. On splattered u Haley's maca, a zatim mina. Samo uspio propustiti dva puta. Taj zamotuljak sletio na moje dupe guzovi. Mi je ostao u poziciji sve dok nakon Walt je ispraznio svoje loptice u našoj cunts. Mi smo napravili naš put natrag u krevet. Najveći penis u našim životima upravo završio sa Haley i I. Nas troje smo bili u blaženo stanje seksualnog zadovoljstva, ali Walt nije završen još. Njegove lopte još uvijek bile pune i on je želio više. On je počeo zajebavati Haley teže nego što je bio prije, bojao sam se da će povrijediti Haley je malo pička sa njegov penis. Bila je uživanje njegova liječenja. Screaming kao njezina uzbuđenja pomno sam mogao vidjeti joj maca guta njegov penis duboko koliko je moguće. On je postignut pod nju i uhvatio je za bradavice i stegnut ih real hard. Pomozi mi sperma Walt. Bio sam ležao na leđima i gledajući ih masturbira pokušava sići još jednom. Walt je vidio što radim, a on ošamario svoju ruku daleko od moje coochie i on mi je montiran za jedan zadnja vožnja. Sam bacio moje noge u zraku kao što je umočen njegov penis dolje na moj vrat maternice. Vrisnula sam malo, ali bol nije dugo trajao, užitak je svoje mjesto. Bio sam zabadanje moje dupe do mu u susret brzo i teško. Walt počeo lupa moja ljubav vezi s kaznom jer nisam bio u mogućnosti poduzeti sve njegov penis dolje do moje utrobe. Sva tri nas ležalo u loptu znoja i sperma. Mi showered zajedno i obukla. Walt je rekao, ako mi je potreban dobar hard penis i doći ga pogledati gore. Haley i JA je otišao leđa za moj auto i nije rekao ni riječ jedan drugome dok smo bili skoro doma. Bilo je oko 7:00. Rekao sam Haley da smo izgubili trag vremena. To je sve što reći. Osjećao sam se loše o varanju na moj muž. Oduvijek sam maštala o tome opustošenom Big Cock. Sada kada se to dogodilo.

Erotski oglasi
Klubovi za svingere u Beogradu. Prepun vjerskih rituala i biblijske simbolike, na što upućuje već i naslov, roman operira s dvama slojevima značenja i s dvama planovima zbivanja: konkretnim i alegorijskim; profanim i sakralnim. Kako žena da zavede muškarca. Solidno stanje, posvetaVideti slike Kraj jedne ljubavne priče nikada nije bio ovako zabavan Ako pitate Vivijen, ona i njen verenik Rob samo su na pauzi, nakon što je on po treći put pobegao na korak do oltara. Ja ga izvukao van i 7, 8, 9, 9 ¾. Kako da nađem svingerski par?.

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It's all about where you take it. You can now take that cowboy hat off the wall and stop imagining a cowboy next to you because they are all available for you to talk to, flirt, and most importantly date them! Lass dich nie zu Hause oder am Arbeitsplatz abholen.

Some are actually oriented exclusively towards senior citizens. Traditional Dating Adults of all ages and from all walks of life can be found on FarmersOnly.

Cowboy Chat City - We are a cowboy dating service where you can meet single cowboys, and single cowgirls.

Couple that with the fact that cowboys are family men and that they can fix just about anything and you have got yourself the perfect man. Who needs restaurants and fancy wines when you can have a beautiful picnic by the light of a campfire, in the fresh air under the stars? The dating sites and Special Offers that we present are from companies from which CowboyDatingExpert. This compensation impacts the ranking of the sites. Other factors, including our own opinions, your location and likelihood of signing up for the site, may also impact how the ranking of the sites appears to a particular user. There are several factors you need to consider when looking for the website that will hook you up with your favorite cowboy or cowgirl. They will most often inform you of the exact number of singles around your area, based on your age, sexual preference, etc. A lot of them are sites for middle-aged people looking for serious relationships, while some are more casual and a lot of them are just for hook-ups. Some are actually oriented exclusively towards senior citizens. Your ideal cowboy dating site will therefore highly depend on your personal wants and needs, so take a while to think about that. Another thing to consider is the functionality of the website itself. Your chosen dating site should be easy to use, and have all the functions that you need to feel comfortable using it. It features a simplistic, sleek and clear design that is easy to use no matter your age or your technological know-how. Date A Cowboy users seem to really care for the traditional country look, and you can see denim and cowboy hats everywhere. Finally, Date A Cowboy features a matching system that makes it very easy to find compatible partners, making it easier than ever to meet a cowboy that is perfect for you. A great help in your quest to choose and start dating a cowboy as quickly as possible. Another great feature is that you can actually see who viewed your profile and is, therefore, potentially interested in you. Because of its exceptionally large member base, it has users from all around the country, and that means big cities, too. The moment you complete your profile, the matching feature starts working in the background to find your best potential matches, without you having to do anything. Like with Cowboys Nearby, it seems that the staff of Meet a Cowboy decided not to overload their website with a bunch of unnecessary extra features and instead make it concise and simple to use for everyone. Like Cowboy Dating Service, is a relatively young one and therefore does not have a big membership base yet. It is steadily gaining popularity, though, so those numbers are inclined to rise as time goes by. You can really tell that the designers worked their butts off with this one. Every inch of the site is designed specifically to remind you that it is a place for cowboys and cowboys only, although it does so with a very mellow, non-aggressive touch. There is the option of paying extra for a premium account, though, and with it, you do get some extra functions if you really need them. Unlike some other cowboy dating sites that mostly attract a male crowd, is overflowing with gorgeous ladies who are looking for mysterious, lonesome cowboys to steal their hearts. The membership base is not too large, as the website has not been around for long, but there are plenty of amazing cowboys and cowgirls already having a bunch of fun in the chat rooms and the number just keeps on growing. What we particularly love about Cowboy Chat City is that it allows you to create a profile that truly shows who you are. You can provide interesting information about yourself and upload photos and even videos to introduce yourself to other attractive singles. These detailed, multimedia profiles make it much easier to discover whether you really like someone and want to get to know them better. Some chat rooms are less crowded while others have dozens of participants, so you can meet many interesting singles at the same time. Once you discover someone who shares your interests or simply someone cute and sweet that you want to get closer to, you can send a flirt or even start a chat room just for the two of you. If the sparks get flying, be brave and arrange that first date that may be the start of a beautiful romance. Conclusion We hope that you now have all the info you need to hop on one of these dating websites and start looking for sweet, beautiful country singles to talk to and mingle with and hopefully, more than that. So waste no time, because love and happiness come to those who are brave enough to seek them.

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Thanks to the modern ring age, everyone is able to find anything that interests them and for you this means that meeting a cowboy is easier than ever. Cowboy dating websites you become a member, the design becomes simpler and the color scheme turns to mostly white, with details in black and the brown which welcomed you so con in the beginning. Grew up on a farm and that's the only lifestyle you know. Design and Functionality We have already mentioned the design but we like it so much that we feel we should mention it once again. A Cowboy is Waiting for You. Between A Cowboy users seem to really care for the traditional country look, and you can see denim and cowboy hats everywhere. Another thing to consider is the functionality of the website itself. Some people enjoy watching a sunset; they regard the toiling of land or the raising of animals as a difference or a walk of life rather than a job. Furthermore, you cowboy dating websites contact your new interests via instant messaging or by sending them flirts.

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You are logged in as. These apps may not be super popular yet, but apps like these ones that use mobile platforms to facilitate in-person connections could easily end up being the future of online dating.

Firstly, you need to add an apple-app-site-association JSON file with your appID and the paths the application should open to the universal links. See who's in the same nightclub?

Reason Labs - Despite the complexity, things were starting to work somewhat better. But to view same-sex matches, you can just tap the filter button in the top-right corner and set your preference to same-sex or both genders.

Badoo is a dating-focused , founded in 2006 , with offices in , , and the. It operates in 190 countries and is available in 47 different languages, making it the world's most widely used dating network to date. The app is available on iOS, Android and web. Badoo operates on a model, whereby the core services can be used without payment. It has since ranked among the most popular dating websites. In 2016 it the most-downloaded dating app in 21 countries. As of 2009, Finam now has 20% ownership of Badoo. After going viral on Facebook through popular social games and quizzes, Badoo was asked to adjust its approach. The official launch of Badoo in the U. Andreev discussed this redesign in an interview with 's James Cook in the same month. Badoo has several features that enable users to meet people. When they first sign up, individuals select whether they want to meet new people to date, chat or to make new friends. Users can chat, match with others, upload photos and videos, as well as share their interests and see any friends in common. If there is a match the two users are notified. Badoo has developed numerous safety features to ensure users are real and verified. Such features include the 'selfie request' button, through which women can request a man they're speaking to send a '' to prove they are the same person as in the pictures. The company has also developed a photo verification process, where users upload a photo of themselves mimicking a specific pose. This photo is then verified in a minute by one of Badoo's 5,000 moderators. Badoo is a service, where the basic service is free for everyone but users have an option to pay for premium features. However, according to , by 2011 only 5% of members were paying for the premium services. Users can also pay to have their profile photo more widely visible across the site. In a peer-reviewed study by in 2009, it was given the lowest score for privacy among the 45 social networking sites examined. Finnish newspaper reported that numerous Badoo profiles were created without people's consent, and that people have reported Badoo's actions to the police. He said that though the site was advertised as a way to meet local friends with shared interests, it was more like a photo-based dating site. Archived from on 2011-02-28. Retrieved September 28, 2015. Retrieved 31 October 2013. Retrieved May 29, 2014. Retrieved 31 October 2013. Archived from on 8 March 2008. Retrieved 17 October 2014.

Live Dating With Girl on Mobile Using Badoo App Complete Guide In Urdu Hindi
To switch off auto-renewal, go to your settings within the iTunes store at any time after purchase. Now Tinder also limits the previously unlimited number of right swipes that you can make in a set time period unless you pay the monthly fee. When the met badoo web version SafariViewController, exactly the same thing happens, as if the user had entered the link into the window and had pressed Enter. I did find that the interface for this app was more confusing than most of the others on this list — sometimes I would end up on a autobus without being entirely sure how I got there. In recent updates the dating app no longer allows you to badoo web version swipe right to show interest in a profile unless you have at least one pic uploaded. We thought about this for a while and then met up with a solution. When you like a pick on the Encounters game, they will be placed on this list until you delete them. The two points on either side basically also pretty much mean deep linking. They write a million blog posts in which they social you about the very same problems which I am going to tell you about. The only thing that we did was to wait for the new app to accumulate a sufficient number of users and, only then, did we switch it on on the server side. The only gusto is their weird proprietary standard. The existing one looked like this: We were really keen that, when our users share lookalikes with one another, the recipients can see them.

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Merkel, true to form, did nothing to try to close the divide. Meanwhile, Frankfurter allowed a reporter, Max Freedman, to edit a collection of letters between himself and F. Germans call the Chancellor Mutti, or Mommy.

There was no shadow over my childhood. What do you say? These templates can also be used as a magazine ad or as an electronic mail-out save the.

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Two mothers from Montclair, New Jersey, piled into a black Volvo on a recent rainy evening and drove forty-five minutes to a lonely street in Gowanus. Sixty moms had signed up. Tonight, she was hoping to help her fellow-moms find the same thing. Oliver, thirteen months , a personal stylist, said. Henry, six months , a stay-at-home mom from Prospect-Lefferts Gardens. Julian, three years asked a young woman who was sipping water. The woman looked petrified. Beth Pappas, a professional speed-dating host, who had on black stilettos and a spaghetti-strap top, took the stage. I feel like an underachiever. Mavis, three , who was wearing a floppy red hat. Others hit the bar for another round of Long Island Iced Teas. Eva, two months was tired. The material on this site may not be reproduced, distributed, transmitted, cached or otherwise used, except with the prior written permission of Condé Nast. The New Yorker may earn a portion of sales from products and services that are purchased through links on our site as part of our affiliate partnerships with retailers. Sixty moms had signed up. Tonight, she was hoping to help her fellow-moms find the same thing. Oliver, thirteen months , a personal stylist, said. Henry, six months , a stay-at-home mom from Prospect-Lefferts Gardens. Julian, three years asked a young woman who was sipping water. The woman looked petrified. Beth Pappas, a professional speed-dating host, who had on black stilettos and a spaghetti-strap top, took the stage. I feel like an underachiever. Mavis, three , who was wearing a floppy red hat. Others hit the bar for another round of Long Island Iced Teas. Eva, two months was tired. Rachel Levin tagged along. Rachel Levin tagged along. Soft Berlin light filters down through the great glass dome, past tourists ascending the spiral ramp, and into the main hall of parliament. At the lectern, a short, slightly hunched figure in a fuchsia jacket, black slacks, and a helmet of no-color hair is reading a speech from a binder. Her delivery is toneless, as if she were trying to induce her audience into shifting its attention elsewhere. Parliament voted to render itself meaningless, and the Nazis never repaired the damaged building. At the end of the Second World War, the Soviets saw the Reichstag as the symbol of the Third Reich and made it a top target in the Battle for Berlin, laying heavy siege. A photograph of a Red Army soldier raising a Soviet flag amid the neoclassical statuary on the roof became the iconic image of German defeat. The Wall, built in 1961, ran a few steps from the back of the building. A minimal renovation in the sixties kept out the elements, but the Reichstag was generally shunned until the Wall came down, in 1989. Then, at midnight on October 3, 1990, President Richard von Weizsäcker stood outside the Reichstag and announced to a crowd of a million people the reunification of Germany, in freedom and peace. Berlin became its capital. The magnificent dome, designed by Norman Foster, suggested transparency and openness. By integrating the slogans of victorious Russian soldiers into its parliament building, Germany shows that it has learned essential lessons from its past ones that the Russians themselves missed. By confronting the twentieth century head on, Germans embrace a narrative of liberating themselves from the worst of their history. In Berlin, reminders are all around you. To the non-German speaker, she could be reading out regulatory guidelines for the national rail system. Merkel has lost weight—bedridden last winter after fracturing her pelvis in a cross-country-skiing accident, she gave up sausage sandwiches for chopped carrots and took off twenty pounds—and her slimmer face, with its sunken eyes and longer jowls, betrays her fatigue. On this day, the role of opposition is left to Die Linke, the leftist party of mostly former East German politicians, which has just ten per cent of parliament. Sahra Wagenknecht, an orthodox Marxist in a brilliant-red suit, steps behind the lectern and berates Merkel for her economic and foreign policies, which, she says, are bringing Fascism back to Europe. While Wagenknecht accuses the government of supporting Fascists in Kiev, Merkel gets up to chat with her ministers in the back row. She returns to her seat and rummages in an orange-red leather handbag that clashes with her jacket. One by one, Social Democratic and Green parliamentarians come forward to defend Merkel. The vice-president of the Bundestag orders the woman from Die Linke to observe protocol. Merkel keeps ignoring the exchange, at one point turning her back, at another leaving the hall. Chancellor Merkel has the parliament under control. Merkel seems perfectly matched to the demands of this second chance. In a country where passionate rhetoric and macho strutting led to ruin, her analytical detachment and lack of apparent ego are political strengths. Germans call the Chancellor Mutti, or Mommy. Angry young protesters fill the public squares of countries around the world, but German crowds gather for outdoor concerts and beery World Cup celebrations. Now almost pacifist after its history of militarism, Germany has stayed out of most of the recent wars that have proved punishing and inconclusive for other Western countries. American politics is so polarized that Congress has virtually stopped functioning; the consensus in Germany is so stable that new laws pour forth from parliament while meaningful debate has almost disappeared. These qualities, though making her an outsider in German politics, also helped to propel her extraordinary rise. Yet some observers, attempting to explain her success, look everywhere but to Merkel herself. Her father, Horst Kasner, was an official in the Lutheran Church, one of the few institutions that continued operating in both Germanys after the postwar division of the country. That year, almost two hundred thousand East Germans fled in the other direction. The Kasners lived in the seminary at Waldhof, a complex of around thirty buildings, many from the nineteenth century, belonging to the Lutheran Church. Waldhof was—and remains—home to several hundred physically and mentally disabled people, who learned trades and grew crops. Ulrich Schoeneich, who managed the estate in the eighties and knew the Kasners, described Waldhof under the East Germans as a grim place, with up to sixty men crammed into a single room, and no furniture except cots. I learned back then to treat them in a very normal way. I have never allowed myself to be bitter. I always used the free room that the G. There was no shadow over my childhood. And later I acted in such a way that I would not have to live in constant conflict with the state. An English teacher who imparted her passion for learning to Angela, Herlind wrote to the education authorities every year asking for a job, and every year she was told that nothing was available, even though English teachers were in desperately short supply. But Merkel was a brilliant, ferociously motivated student. In her tidy apartment in Templin, Benn, who is seventy-six, proudly showed me a victory certificate from 1969. She was allowed to pursue graduate studies, in no small part because she never ran afoul of the ruling party. Angela Kasner had other ideas for her future, and became, at most, a passive opponent of the regime. Although Angela views the leading role of the Soviet Union as that of a dictatorship which all other socialist countries obey, she is fascinated by the Russian language and the culture of the Soviet Union. They never said what they thought, what they felt, what they were afraid of. And nobody can do this. The whisperer thinks, How can I say this without damaging myself? The whisperer is somebody who might be compared to a chess player. And I have the impression that she thinks things over more carefully and is always a few moves ahead of her competitor. She spent the final moribund decade of the G. She once told a story from her childhood of standing on a diving board for the full hour of a swimming lesson until, at the bell, she finally jumped. She watches politics like a scientist. For several stretches, her train ran parallel to the Wall, the rooftops of West Berlin almost in reach. Sometimes she commuted with a colleague, Michael Schindhelm. Schindhelm found Merkel to be the most serious researcher in the theoretical-chemistry section, frustrated by her lack of access to Western publications and scientists. Whenever her colleagues left the building to cheer the motorcade of a high-profile guest from the Communist world on its way from Schönefeld Airport, she stayed behind. They both had a fairly critical view of the East German state. They both felt that the world on the other side of the Wall was more desirable than their own. Years later, Schindhelm, who became a theatre and opera director, was revealed to have been coerced by the Stasi into serving as an informer, though he apparently never betrayed anyone. He expressed a belief that Germans, in facing their past, could redefine their identity and future. But in East Germany, where ideology had twisted the history of the Third Reich beyond recognition, the speech was virtually unknown. Merkel had procured a rare copy through her connections in the Church, and she was deeply struck by it. As East Germany decayed, its citizens had nothing else to hold on to, whereas Westerners had been taught to suppress feelings of nationhood. After riding the miraculously comfortable trains through West Germany, she returned to East Berlin convinced that the socialist system was doomed. Instead of joining the delirious throngs pouring through the Wall, which had just been opened, she took her regular Thursday-evening sauna with a friend. Later, she crossed into the West with a crowd at the Bornholmer Strasse checkpoint, but instead of continuing with other Ossis to the upscale shopping district of Kurfürstendamm she returned home, in order to get up for work in the morning. Her actions on that momentous night have been ridiculed as a sign of banality and a lack of feeling. But, in the following months, no East German seized the new freedoms with more fervor than Merkel. Few irreducible principles have been evident in her political career, but one of them is the right to the pursuit of happiness. She was soon put to work setting up the office computers, which had been donated by the West German government. She kept coming back, though at first hardly anyone noticed her. It was the kind of fluid moment when things happen quickly and chance and circumstance can make all the difference. In March, 1990, the leader of Democratic Awakening, Wolfgang Schnur, was exposed as a Stasi informer, and at an emergency board meeting Rainer Eppelmann, the dissident clergyman, was chosen to replace him. She understood that she had to do a job here and do it well, but not to be the chief. Lothar de Maizière was the chief. They married in 1998. Some participants were from the East, others from the West; at each meal, the host would narrate his or her upbringing, illuminating what life was like on one side of the divide. Schlöndorff found Merkel to be an earnest but witty conversation partner. One evening, at the extremely modest country house that Merkel and Sauer had built, near Templin, she and Schlöndorff went for a walk through the fields. She rarely speaks publicly about herself and has never explained her decision. But when the moment came, and Merkel found herself single and childless in her mid-thirties—and laboring in an East German institution with no future—a woman of her ambition must have grasped that politics would be the most dynamic realm of the new Germany. In October, 1990, she won a seat in the new Bundestag, in Bonn, the first capital of reunified Germany. She got herself introduced to Chancellor Helmut Kohl, and de Maizière suggested that Kohl bring her into his cabinet. She had no political agenda at all. She had to be taught how to use a credit card. Cabinet meetings were dominated by Kohl, and though Merkel was always well prepared, she seldom spoke. But inside her ministry Merkel was respected for her efficient absorption of information, and feared for her directness and temper. According to her biographer Evelyn Roll, she acquired the nickname Angie the Snake, and a reputation for accepting little criticism. Most of the men, such as Gerhard Schröder, a Social Democrat who became Chancellor in 1998, and Joschka Fischer, who became his foreign minister, seemed to swell with self-importance. Subsequent pictures display growing confidence. During the sessions, Merkel was always in a hurry, never making small talk. She became such an assiduous student that some colleagues from the former East found it unsettling. She joined the Christian Democratic Union after Democratic Awakening merged with it, ahead of the 1990 elections; the C. It is only a function of her power, nothing else. Over dinner one night in the mid-nineties, Merkel asked Schlöndorff, a former radical, to explain the violence perpetrated by the Baader-Meinhof Group. He told her that young people had needed to break with the authoritarian culture that had never been repudiated in West Germany after the defeat of the Nazis. What did kids in the West have to protest about? Everything was a question of survival, and it was impossible to make errors if you wanted to succeed. Baumann, who remains her most influential adviser, was the perfect No. I still need time, but one day the time will come for this, and I am already looking forward. The producer, a C. Kohl and his successor as Party chairman, Wolfgang Schäuble, were both implicated, but Kohl was so revered that nobody in the Party dared to criticize him. Merkel, who had risen to secretary-general after the C. She telephoned Karl Feldmeyer. Five minutes later, a fax came through, and Feldmeyer read it with astonishment. Merkel, a relatively new figure in the C. Within a few months, Merkel had been elected Party chairman. Kohl receded into history. That was the moment when many Germans first became aware of Angela Merkel. He told another friend that championing young Merkel had been the biggest mistake of his life. She hastily arranged a breakfast with her rival, the Bavarian leader Edmund Stoiber, in his home town. Disciplined enough to control her own ambitions, Merkel told Stoiber that she was withdrawing in his favor. Stoiber lost to Schröder, and Merkel went on to outmaneuver a series of male heavyweights from the West, waiting for them to make a mistake or eat one another up, before getting rid of each with a little shove. One of the secrets of the success of Angela Merkel is that she knows how to deal with vain men. Angela Merkel is a patient hunter of courting mountain cocks. With the patience of an angel, she waits for her moment. She has them for her cereal. In the politics of macho, Schröder and Fischer—working-class street fighters who loved political argument and expensive wine, with seven ex-wives between them—were preëminent. The two men despised Merkel, and the sentiment was reciprocated. During the 2005 campaign, Fischer said in private talks that Merkel was incapable of doing the job. Through most of the campaign, the C. Merkel had made two near-fatal mistakes. Second, many of her advisers were free-market proponents who advocated changes to the tax code and to labor policies which went far beyond what German voters would accept. Merkel, looking shell-shocked and haggard, was almost mute. Schröder, his hair colored chestnut and combed neatly back, grinned mischievously and effectively declared himself the winner. Many viewers thought he was drunk. With a slight smile, she put Schröder in his place. And I promise we will not turn the democratic rules upside down. Through her spokesman, Merkel, who gives few interviews—almost always to German publications, and all anodyne—declined to speak to me. In off-the-record conversations with German journalists, she replays entire conversations with other world leaders, performing wicked imitations. Among her favorite targets have been Kohl, Putin, King Abdullah of Saudi Arabia, former Pope Benedict XVI, and Al Gore. Do you do things like that? Kornblum, the former Ambassador, once asked a Merkel adviser about her long-term view. But Germany remains so traumatized by the grand ideologies of its past that a politics of no ideas has a comforting allure. To Merkel, the crisis confirmed that grand visions can be dangerous. Kohl, who thought in historical terms, had tied Germany to a European currency without a political union that could make it work. Germany had by far the strongest economy in Europe, with a manufacturing base and robust exports that benefitted from the weakening of the euro. Under Schröder, Germany had instituted reforms in labor and welfare policies that made the country more competitive, and Merkel arrived just in time to reap the benefit. Throughout the crisis, Merkel buried herself in the economic details and refused to get out in front of what German voters—who tended to regard the Greeks as spendthrift and lazy—would accept, even if delaying prolonged the ordeal and, at key moments from late 2011 through the summer of 2012, threatened the euro itself. No vision at all. In exchange, the countries of southern Europe submitted to strict budget rules and E. Merkel realized that she could not allow the euro-zone crisis to capsize the project of European unity. The euro was saved, but at the price of ruinous austerity policies and high unemployment. The German economy has slowed this year, while European growth is anemic. Nevertheless, Germany remains committed to a balanced budget in 2015, its first since 1969, and is standing in the way of a euro-zone monetary policy of stimulating growth by buying up debt. In recent weeks, with global markets falling, a divide has opened between Merkel and other European leaders. Instead, she exported the ideas to the rest of the Continent, applying them with no apparent regard for macroeconomic conditions, as if the virtues of thrift and discipline constituted the mission of a resurgent Germany in Europe. Merkel is obsessed with demography and economic competitiveness. She loves reading charts. In September, one of her senior aides showed me a stack of them that the Chancellor had just been examining; they showed the relative performance of different European economies across a variety of indicators. In unit-labor costs, he pointed out, Germany lies well below the euro-zone average. But the population of Germany—the largest of any nation in Europe—is stagnant and aging. Joschka Fischer—who has praised Merkel on other issues—criticizes this silence. When the Wall fell, Putin was a K. He used his fluent German and a pistol to keep a crowd of East Germans from storming the K. Two hundred thousand Russian citizens live in Germany, and Russia has extensive connections inside the German business community and in the Social Democratic Party. But, as a former East German, Merkel has few illusions about Putin. Never trust this guy. Detesting would be too much emotion. As the dog approached and sniffed her, Merkel froze, visibly frightened. Russia has nothing, no successful politics or economy. All they have is this. She remained careful to balance European unity, the alliance with America, German business interests, and continued engagement with Russia. Kaiser Wilhelm I is supposed to have remarked that only Bismarck, who tied Germany to a set of countervailing alliances, could juggle four or five balls. The moral that many Germans drew was to tread carefully—small fires could quickly turn into conflagrations. In early polls, a plurality of Germans wanted Merkel to take a middle position between the West and Russia. Helmut Schmidt, the Social Democratic former Chancellor, expressed some of these views, as did Gerhard Schröder—who had become a paid lobbyist for a company controlled by the Russian state oil-and-gas giant Gazprom, and who celebrated his seventieth birthday with Putin, in St. Petersburg, a month after Russia annexed Crimea. The attitude of Schmidt and Schröder deeply embarrassed the Social Democrats. Merkel, true to form, did nothing to try to close the divide. For most Germans, the crisis inspired a combination of indifference and anxiety. Ukraine was talked about, if at all, as a far-off place, barely a part of Europe not as the victim of huge German crimes in the Second World War. Germans resented having their beautiful sleep disturbed. For this, they wish the U. If Russia wants Ukraine, which not so many people have sympathy with, let them have it. A sense of responsibility for the past demands that Germany do nothing in the present. In 1999, Naumann, at that time the culture minister under Schröder, tried to negotiate the return of five million artifacts taken out of East Germany by the Russians after the Second World War. During the negotiations, he and his Russian counterpart, Nikolai Gubenko, shared their stories. Naumann, who was born in 1941, lost his father a year later, at the Battle of Stalingrad. Gubenko was also born in 1941, and his father was also killed in action. Publicly, she said little, waiting for Russian misbehavior to bring the German public around. She needed to keep her coalition in the Bundestag on board, including the more pro-Russian Social Democrats. For sanctions to bite, Europe had to remain united. Even after the E. Above all, she tries to understand how he thinks. Then I have to deal with those views, and this can also trigger something new. When eight members of a European observer group, including four Germans, were taken hostage by pro-Russian separatists in April—practically a casus belli, had they been Americans—the German government simply asked Putin to work for their release. Merkel was playing the game that had been successful for her in German politics: waiting for her adversary to self-destruct. In May, after Ukrainian separatists organized a widely denounced referendum, the official Russian statement was more positive than the stance that Merkel believed she and Putin had agreed on in advance. She cancelled their call for the following week—she had been misled, and wanted him to sense her anger. In the optics of power, she was winning. Later, before lunch, Merkel orchestrated a brief conversation between Putin and Poroshenko. That is very, very strange. Her opinion of Barack Obama has risen as his popularity has declined. In July, 2008, as a Presidential candidate, Obama wanted to speak at the Brandenburg Gate, in Berlin—the historic heart of the city, a location reserved for heads of state and government, not U. Merkel rebuffed the request, so instead Obama spoke about European-American unity at the Victory Column, in the Tiergarten, before two hundred thousand delirious fans—a crowd Merkel could never have mustered, let alone mesmerized. Obama is the antithesis of the swaggering leaders whom Merkel specializes in eating for breakfast. On a trip to Washington, she met with a number of senators, including the Republicans John McCain, of Arizona, and Jeff Sessions, of Alabama. The sight of separatist fighters looting the belongings of dead passengers who had been shot out of the sky hit Germans more personally than months of ugly fighting among Ukrainians had. The idea of maintaining equidistance between Russia and the West on Ukraine vanished. Though the crisis was beginning to hurt the German economy, Merkel now had three-quarters of the public behind her. In late July, the E. Germans told me that anti-Americanism in Germany is more potent now than at any time since the cruise-missile controversy of the early eighties. Merkel, ever impassive, expressed more annoyance than outrage, but with the German public the sense of betrayal was deep. He conveyed his regret to Merkel privately. German officials claimed that the U. The Americans denied it. He had been caught soliciting business from the Russians via Gmail, and, when the Germans asked their American counterparts for information on the man, his account was suddenly shut down. Brought in for questioning, he admitted having passed documents apparently innocuous to a C. The Germans retaliated, in unprecedented fashion, by expelling the C. Coming soon after the N. Merkel was beside herself with exasperation. They lie to us. Rebuffing Washington is good now in Germany. During a four-hour meeting, they agreed to create a framework for clearer rules about spying and intelligence sharing. But the details remain to be worked out, and barely half the German public now expresses a favorable view of the U. In the broad middle, where German politics plays out today, many Germans, especially older ones, once regarded the U. Imperial Germany refused to accept at gunpoint the universal principles of equality and human rights. But maybe it was only a skin. Germany is becoming more German, less Western. Germany has discovered its national roots. He meant that Germany is becoming less democratic, because what Germans fundamentally want is stability, security, economic growth—above all, to be left in peace while someone else watches their money and keeps their country out of wars. They have exactly the Chancellor they want. Her popularity floats around seventy-five per cent—unheard of in an era of resentment toward elected leaders. Plainness remains her political signature, with inflections of Protestant virtue and Prussian uprightness. Here I am, the Chancellor! What am I doing here? When I was growing up in the G. And now here I am, and they have to listen to me! Dwarfed by her vast office in the massive concrete-and-glass Chancellery, Merkel works at an ordinary writing table just inside the door, preferring it to the thirteen-foot black slab that Schröder installed at the far end of the room. When her husband calls the Philharmoniker for tickets Merkel and Sauer are music lovers, with a passion for Wagner and Webern and is offered comps, he insists on giving his credit-card number, and the couple take their seats almost unnoticed. A friend of mine once sat next to Merkel at the salon she frequents, off Kurfürstendamm, and they chatted about hair. It was the kind of speech that Merkel who had no comment would never give, especially after a poll commissioned by the foreign ministry in May showed that sixty per cent of the public was skeptical of greater German involvement in the world. German journalists find Merkel nearly impossible to cover. The private Merkel they admire and enjoy but are forbidden to quote disappears in public. Any aide or friend who betrays the smallest confidence is cast out. There was no reason not to. She has embraced labor unions, lowered the retirement age for certain workers, and increased state payments to mothers and the old. Supporters of the Social Democrats and the Greens have fewer and fewer reasons to vote at all, and turnout has declined. Joschka Fischer described Germany under Merkel as returning to the Biedermeier period, the years between the end of the Napoleonic Wars, in 1815, and the liberal revolutions of 1848, when Central Europe was at peace and the middle class focussed on its growing wealth and decorative style. But what Americans today might envy, with our intimations of national decline, makes thoughtful Germans uneasy. Their democracy is not old enough to be given a rest. You have to keep the people used to the fact that democracy is a pain in the ass, and that they have to fight, and that everyone is a politician—not only Merkel. For the magazine, he has covered the Iraq War, and has also written about the atrocities committed in Sierra Leone, civil unrest in the Ivory Coast, the megacity of Lagos, and the global counterinsurgency. He was a Guggenheim Fellow in 2001-02, and has taught writing at Harvard, Bennington, and Columbia. A light snow fell upon me, but I noticed it not. Like Jacob of old, I put a stone beneath my head for a pillow. My badger-fur coat was my only blanket and the stars above me were my roof. And I saw not angels in the firmament ascending and descending on a heavenly ladder, as were vouchsafed unto Jacob—no, I beheld a vision of what is to be, here, on this same prairie where we are standing, two hundred and five years from this very day. Strewn like countless jewels were the lights of her habitations, and the pleasantness of her aspects bid me enter. Hard by a wide and radiant roadway I saw a bright sign of about twenty cubits in height, and on that sign I beheld a single numeral, and a single word. And the sun ascended into the firmament, above towering clouds stacked upon clouds, and shafts of brilliant sunlight shone upon the promised city. On one side of the roadway, half a furlong beyond the glowing sign, I saw many banners, as of an army, and a glorious host of conveyances—wheels next to wheels, as if of wheels there could be no end. Now seemingly solid, and yet somehow insubstantial, but having the general lineaments of a man, it stood suddenly with a convulsion of its spine, and flung its arms into the air, and waved them wildly, and then collapsed like an empty garment, and lay upon an engine similar to a bellows at its feet. Again the bellows sound roared, and again the figure leapt up and flung its arms to the sky. As I looked on, it did this many times, and I wondered at it, and was terrified. I witnessed storefronts where one could obtain instruction in the martial arts of the Orient, and parlors in which members of the populace could cause their skin to be more tan, and useful places of exchange where notes drawn upon a local bank or issued by the state could be converted to cash money for a small fee. I saw eating establishments specializing in a kind of open-faced Italian pie, and offices of attorneys available to help those who had slipped and fallen, and clearly lighted venues in which the patrons could be marked with the latest and most intricate of tattoos, or could have previous, wrongly conceived tattoos removed, or if they could not be removed have them altered to different, less embarrassing tattoos. And everything was shining, and heavenly splendor was all around. Then an elder spoke. Look at us—broomstick bodies, yellow with ague, some of us barely bones enough to hang our clothing on. No, the inhabitants of the city in my vision did not resemble us, for these were good-sized men and women, some as big around as four or five of us together! He was not heard from again. He has been contributing to the magazine since 1974, when he published his first piece in The Talk of the Town. But now you can find me perched on a chair every morning. Talking to her a little—about things I read in the paper, about the other customers, about cookies. Sometimes I even manage to make her laugh. And when she laughs it does me good. But a movie is just too in-your-face. A movie is one step before asking her out to dinner, or inviting her to fly off to Eilat for a weekend at the beach. Because of that, asking her to smoke a joint seems better to me. Avri was the only person in my high-school class who was a super heavy smoker. I run through hypothetical small talk in my head as I dial, hunting for something I can say to him before mentioning the weed. They closed the Lebanese border on us because of the trouble in Syria, and they closed Egypt because of all that Al Qaeda shit. I mean, try to withstand an argument like that! What can you do? Dig up the father with a backhoe and ask him? Someone special I want to impress. This is a onetime thing for me, and I only need a gram. When it comes down to it, all I want is a single bud, even a joint, to smoke with a pretty girl who laughs at my jokes. My friend cleans his house every week, but not for money—she does it for medical marijuana. So I picked up the phone and called you. To sit with unfamiliar people in unfamiliar houses, with that kind of heavy atmosphere looming—it does me bad. He asked that two people show up. A civil suit over a hit-and-run involving a ten-year-old girl. The subject we came to discuss is weed. On the side of the dead girl, other than her parents, not a soul is going to show. And the parents are just going to sit there silently with their heads bowed, not saying a word. Scream at the defendant. Call him a murderer. In short, the judge should feel your presence. It may sound stupid to you, but things like that affect judges deeply. It shakes them up, shakes the mothballs out of those old, dry laws, rubs them up against the real world. If you scream loud enough, maybe even fifteen. What do you say? What am I, a dealer? Maximum I give a baggie to a friend here and there as a little present. They look wiped out. The mother is maybe fifty or older but small like a tiny bird. She has short gray hair and looks completely neurotic. The father sits there with his eyes closed. Every once in a while he opens them for a second, then closes them again. The lawyers just keep murmuring the numbers of different sections and articles. I try to picture Shikma and me sitting here in court after our daughter has been run over. Somehow we start making out, and when she clings to me as we kiss I feel her chest crushed up against mine. You killed a little girl. In essence, I am actually trying to calm Avri down. But one guy, with a huge mustache, gives him a slap. I try to separate them, to get between him and Avri, and I catch a head butt to the face. The court officers drag Avri out. You plucked a flower. He just goes into the bathroom and comes out with two little plastic bags. He hands me one and throws the other to Avri, who almost fumbles the catch. I tell her it was an accident. Do you maybe want to go see it with me? In that moment, the image pops back into my head. The two of us in court, holding hands. I try to change channels, to switch to the other image, the two of us kissing on my ratty living-room couch. They were followed by the brief but intense reign of Ace of Base, in the early nineties. He and his cohort of songwriters are backstage workers, who write mostly for, and with, others, a version of the classic assembly-line songwriting model that has served artists as disparate as Frank Sinatra, George Jones, and Whitney Houston. I Did It Again. Luke, and changed his approach. The two pushed a heavy sound that reclaimed the feel of guitar-pop bands like Cheap Trick, and gave big hooks and loud guitars to female solo artists like Clarkson and Perry. In an uncynical way, both Swedish and Nashville pop exploit the pleasures of the process. The fan expects certain constants—short songs, bright sounds, hopeful surges—and also wants some unexpected moments, which is where the personality of the artist comes in. Swift has a brand as familiar and visible as the Batman signal. Though Swift single-handedly generates a frightening percentage of the money still being made in the music business, she somehow ended up with an older version of Swedish pop. Her style is of a piece with that of a loose group of artists, like Lorde and Lykke Li, who feel naturally rooted in the digital and the spare. Lo also cites Robyn as an inspiration; both went to the Rytmus Music School, in Stockholm. Lo comes across as a hedonist who refuses to devolve into chaos. I am charming as fuck. She likes her own pleasure, without feeling the need to apologize for it or to tie it to some phony theory of transcendence. The song presents a circular acoustic-guitar figure with the brittle tone of the koto, a Japanese stringed instrument, and then takes it away. The song is built largely from finger snaps and a quiet kick drum, letting instruments enter for only seconds at a time. Sasha Frere-Jones on the rise of Swedepop. Sasha Frere-Jones on the rise of Swedepop. Thomas Church, under the expert leadership of John Scott, provides impeccable performances in the Anglican tradition, with the period-instrument ensemble Concert Royal. Expect a hearty and affirmative reading from the massed singers of the Oratorio Society of New York and, on the following night, a firmly elegant account from the professional choristers of Musica Sacra. New York City Ballet performs the familiar version by George Balanchine, from 1954. Guggenheim Museum, Fifth Ave. Their program offers a heartwarming mix of carols, spirituals, and contemporary holiday works. Fiddlers will be heading down Flatbush Avenue, thumb-piano players will be gathering in McCarren Park, and bell-wielding bicyclists will be circling Prospect Park. Old favorites, such as the long-lost Pennsylvania Station, St. G-gauge equipment some cars and engines are more than two feet long runs on a quarter mile of track, and there are poetry readings, concerts, and cocktails at special times. Stars from the worlds of music, comedy, dance, and beyond join them, including Ira Glass, Monica Bill Barnes, and Anna Bass; Buster Poindexter; Regina Carter; Pedrito Martinez; Sofia Rei; Bria Skonberg; the Xylopholks; and Molly Ryan. James Stewart and Margaret Sullavan star as clerks at a Budapest leather-goods store. As war began in Europe, the director Ernst Lubitsch conjured an Old World charm that would soon be lost forever. For the American Museum of Natural History, volunteers around the world, from the Upper West Side to Japan, have been folding origami since the summer to create hundreds of ornaments based on displays in its halls, from a sabre-toothed tiger to a pterosaur. Last year, it was Miley Cyrus who stole the show. This year, the star is Taylor Swift. If those names confuse you, find a six-year-old to ask. In November, 1972, after the theft was discovered, the Library of Congress called the F. A grand jury was convened. Then, suddenly, the investigation was abandoned. The thief was never caught. The case is as cold as stone. By some accounts, he broke the Court, and it has never been right since. The decision whether to make these documents available is entirely at the discretion of the Justices and their heirs and executors. They can shred them; they can burn them; they can use them as placemats. Texts vanish; e-mails are deleted. The Court has no policies or guidelines for secretaries and clerks about what to keep and what to throw away. Some Justices have destroyed virtually their entire documentary trail; others have made a point of tossing their conference notes. Very few of the documents that could genuinely illuminate them will survive. The Federal Records Act, passed in 1950, specifically excludes the Supreme Court. In 1978, in the wake of Watergate, Congress passed the Presidential Records Act, which made the papers of American Presidents the property of the federal government; destroying them is a federal crime. There is no judicial equivalent. The papers of the Justices, if they save them, tend to go to the Library of Congress, to their alma maters, to their home towns, or to some other place they happen to like. His critics considered this policy to be incompatible with a government accountable to the people. This criticism has never entirely quieted, but every time things get noisy the Court simply brazens it out. Supreme Court Justices; the only claim on the Justices is justice itself. Louis Brandeis began handing his papers over to the University of Louisville, in Kentucky, in 1936, three years before he stepped down from the Court. Frankfurter and Brandeis had been close correspondents. Early in his career, Rehnquist told the legal historian Stanley Katz that he thought there ought to be a requirement that all judicial papers be given to the Library of Congress. Not long afterward, the legal historian Melvin Urofsky, who was researching a book about Johnson v. Santa Clara, a 1987 affirmative-action case, happened to be chatting with William Brennan at a party. Gore, one of the most momentous actions ever taken by the Court. In the twenty-first century, the Supreme Court wields far more power than it did in the eighteenth. Is judicial secrecy defensible in an era of judicial supremacy? Fair-minded arguments can be made on both sides. Rehnquist died in 2005. In 2008, his papers—nearly nine hundred boxes—went to the Hoover Institution. More than five hundred will remain closed until the last Justice who served with Rehnquist dies. But perhaps the time has come to ask, How long is too long to wait? Rarely has an appointment been met with such high expectations. Rarely has a Justice proved so disappointing. During the twenty-three years that Frankfurter served on the Court, from 1939 to 1962, its most significant judicial activism concerned overturning laws that restricted civil liberties and civil rights. Frankfurter nearly always dissented from these decisions, citing his commitment to judicial restraint. A brilliant liberal scholar, Frankfurter became known, on the Court, as its most implacable conservative, not because his politics changed but because his view of the role of the Court did not. The American Civil Liberties Union—which Frankfurter had helped found—filed an amicus brief in support of the Gobitas family. Frankfurter wrote an 8—1 opinion upholding the mandatory flag salute, citing the principle of judicial restraint. To his outraged friends, he declined to elaborate. He earned a reputation as an annoyance. He lectured his fellow-Justices, as if they were his law-school students. His diaries are even more arrogant and venomous. He proved incapable of forging agreements. Barnette, Jackson wrote an opinion for a 6—3 majority that ruled in favor of the Barnette family. Frankfurter wrote a bitter dissent. It may turn out that a divided Court is the legacy of Felix Frankfurter. But anyone seriously interested in pondering that legacy has got to wonder: Who raided his papers? In 1954, he asked one of his clerks, Alexander Bickel, to begin dividing his legal papers, one half to go to the Library of Congress and the other to the Harvard Law School Library. Frankfurter hoped that the story of his life might be written by Philip Kurland, a former clerk of his who had become a distinguished constitutional scholar at the University of Chicago Law School. Meanwhile, Frankfurter allowed a reporter, Max Freedman, to edit a collection of letters between himself and F. But Freedman was in no condition to publish: he suffered a stroke that left him unable to write. He moved to Winnipeg and became a recluse. Rehnquist abandoned the biography. Bickel put him off: he told him to write to Hugo Black. He tapped Richard Danzig, a twenty-five-year-old former Rhodes scholar. Bickel believed—hoped—that the talented Danzig was preparing for a career as a scholar. In February, 1970, Danzig submitted to Bickel a formal request for permission to use the Frankfurter papers at Harvard. He was trying to avoid the draft, and he was also eager to make a career as a legal scholar, an outsider attempting to break into a tightly closed and fiercely guarded world. In April, 1971, he wrote to Elisabeth Sifton, at Viking, and to Richard Kluger, at Atheneum. Kluger consulted Bickel, who told him to turn Newman down. Unlike the young and inexperienced Newman, Kluger had a contract with Knopf, and enclosed a letter from its editor-in-chief, Robert Gottlieb. Freund and Bickel agreed to grant Kluger permission to see the files relating to Brown v. Hugo Black was dying, and another Justice was about to leave the Court, too: John Harlan had cancer. In 1969, he had nominated Clement Haynsworth, a federal judge from South Carolina. The Senate voted down the nomination, the first time that had happened since 1930. In 1970, Nixon nominated another Southern judge, G. Harrold Carswell; he was voted down, too. Both judges had checkered records on segregation. In September and October of 1971, Nixon and Mitchell debated possible nominees. Byrd was a ploy. Shogan got the memo from Kurland when he called to interview him and Kurland riffled through the Jackson papers in his office and mentioned that he had an interesting memo. Ferguson was right and should be reaffirmed. On December 10, 1971, a member of the Senate Judiciary Committee threatened to continue the hearings after the holiday. Nixon responded by calling for a special session. In 2012, two legal scholars, Brad Snyder and John Q. Barrett, published a fascinating law-review article in which they attempted to reconstruct that letter. Barrett Prettyman, another of his former clerks, to see what they made of it. No one knows who had it. In August, scholars using the Frankfurter papers at the Library of Congress began reporting to the staff that a great number of documents were missing. The missing documents appeared to have been carefully chosen: they included the most significant items in the collection. The library called the F. In March, 1973, an F. He asked Parrish who else was sitting at his table in the Reading Room when he used the papers. Parrish told the F. On March 22, 1973, an F. All three told me they were never questioned. Except for the part about being a lawyer, this description fits only Newman. The report was forwarded to the Justice Department on August 10, 1973. And then there was a leak. In addition to Owens, Anderson had several other reporters, including Brit Hume now a senior political analyst at Fox News , Jack Cloherty now a producer at ABC News , and Les Whitten now retired. They scrambled for stories. After looking for evidence that Hoover was a homosexual, Anderson reported that the director of the F. In May, Anderson was awarded a Pulitzer Prize for national reporting. Both awards were controversial, as Mark Feldstein reports in a recent biography of Anderson. The trustees of Columbia University, which awards the Pulitzer Prizes, issued a press release expressing disagreement with the Pulitzer board. In June, the Court issued a landmark decision in Branzburg v. Hayes Rehnquist joining a 5—4 majority , ruling that the First Amendment does not protect a reporter who refuses to reveal his sources before a grand jury; the Court has never again ruled on this question. On January 31, 1973, the F. That spring, Anderson published grand-jury records that had been leaked in the Watergate investigation. But the breaking of the Watergate story marked the end of the era of Anderson. Whitten has said that he got the story from a source inside the F. But Hume finds this theory unlikely. According to an F. They contained pages and pages of documents—all photocopies. Whitten had a clerk make photocopies of the photocopies; then he destroyed the envelopes. That afternoon, he called the Library of Congress and told the acting chief of the Manuscript Division, John C. Broderick, that he wanted to arrange a meeting. They met in the bar of the Sheraton-Carlton Hotel. That day, he also wrote to U. Meanwhile, Whitten, realizing that he had mistakenly given to the library some of the first-generation photocopies—which, presumably, had fingerprints on them—called the Manuscript Division and demanded their return. Amazingly, the library complied. Whitten made another set of photocopies, and likely destroyed the last of the first-generation photocopies. On the very day that Anderson offered to coöperate with the Justice Department, Whitten took back the only remaining physical evidence tying the theft to the thief. The next day, October 20th, Nixon ordered Richardson to fire the Watergate special prosecutor, Archibald Cox, and Richardson resigned in protest, in what became known as the Saturday Night Massacre. Anderson ran one more story about the theft in his next column, on October 21st. But the Frankfurter story was most decidedly not a scoop in the fall of 1973, when the American Presidency was unravelling. What, after all, was the story of the Frankfurter papers compared with the story of the Nixon tapes? On October 31, 1973, the man who had been denied access to the papers and whom the bureau had described as its prime suspect was questioned by a federal grand jury. He denied any knowledge of the theft. The records of the grand jury are sealed. I asked Roger Newman if he was the suspect who had been brought before the grand jury. I asked him if the experience had been terrifying. On December 6, 1973, the Justice Department replied to Anderson, declining his offer of help. It referred to the investigation as ongoing, and expressed concern that Anderson had destroyed the envelopes in which the photocopies were returned. In March, 1974, without officially closing the case, the F. Nixon resigned on August 9th. He might have destroyed the tapes if he could. To stop him, Congress passed the Presidential Recordings and Materials Preservation Act, in December, 1974. That measure was not adopted. Board of Education, in 1976. Mary Frances Berry is a professor of legal history at the University of Pennsylvania. Clinton appointed her chair of the U. Commission on Civil Rights. Parrish, an emeritus professor, is teaching in the Czech Republic on a Fulbright fellowship. In 1977, he began working for the Department of Defense. No full-dress biography of Felix Frankfurter has ever been written. Five witnesses testified, the hearings adjourned, and that was the end of that. But nothing is preventing the Court from setting its own policy. About a decade ago, the Rehnquist Court tried to establish guidelines. Harry Blackmun had retired in 1994 and died in 1999, having arranged for his papers to go to the Library of Congress and to be opened five years after his death. Neither Anderson nor Whitten ever revealed the name of the thief, if they even knew it. Anderson is dead; Whitten has said that he never learned who stole the papers. Supreme Court Justices enter the office of history over the transom, too, if they come in at all. Sometimes even sneakier things happen. Not a single page of the missing papers of Felix Frankfurter has ever been found. Lepore received her Ph. In 2012, she was named a Harvard College Professor, in recognition of distinction in undergraduate teaching. What else has gone missing? Mommy and Daddy speak in rhythmic banalities. Greeting a guest named Mrs. He has no mind—or balls—of his own. He was adopted as an infant, in 1928, by a wealthy couple, Frances and Reed Albee, of Larchmont, New York. Frances was an ambitious arriviste from New Jersey; Reed was an emotionally recessive philanderer who addressed his wife as Mommy. It only exacerbated his sense that he was different—an observer, and not a participant. In the bohemian Village, Albee tried to find his voice as a writer. In a sense, he already had a voice—a kind of autocratic, intolerant self-consciousness—but it took time to turn his brilliant barroom bitchiness into a more focussed and solid art. In 1953, he showed some of his poems to Thornton Wilder, who suggested that he try his hand at playwriting instead. The form allowed Albee to take control of the drama of his upbringing.

CID - सी आई डी - Ep 1448 - Deadly Dating - 30th July, 2017
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