Skip to content
Search

Latest Stories

Top Stories

Can we find a way to listen to, and even laugh with, one another again?

Opinion

Braver Angels debate night in New York

“No one punched each other in the face,” one man said after a Braver Angels debate. “This is New York City, after all. That’s not always guaranteed!”

Courtesy Braver Angels

Timmis is director of social media for Braver Angels and the blue co-chair of the Braver Angels NYC Alliance.

Almost every time my boyfriend and I get into an argument, he ends up making me laugh. He can’t help it — or so he says — because he’s a born-and-bred Irishman, with dark humor in his blood.

Usually when this happens — when I find myself fighting a smile — we end up forging a path through whatever conflict we’re entangled in. Suddenly the problem, though no less serious, feels like something we can take on together.

In the words of John Cleese, “A wonderful thing about true laughter is that it just destroys any kind of system of dividing people.”


In so many ways, humor is essential for our emotional, spiritual and psychological well-being.

It can offer an entry point into saying hard things, and an opportunity to repair when they don’t come out quite right. It can diffuse tension and strengthen bonds.

At its core, humor reminds us that we’re human.

It’s no surprise, then, that it’s also distinctly missing from our political landscape.

But does it have to be?

A few months ago, my friend Brent Morden — red co-Chair of the Braver Angels NYC Alliance — and I asked ourselves a question: Could we have a debate on a serious topic ... and make it fun?

We decided to host it at the Comedy Cellar, a legendary comedy club in Manhattan where some of the most prolific comedians have performed. (Dave Chappelle, Chris Rock, Robin Williams, Amy Schumer, Jon Stewart, and on, and on, and on.) We recruited our very own Luke Nathan Phillips to come up from Washington, D.C., and serve as debate chair. And we brought nearly 150 New Yorkers together on a Wednesday night for a debate on “Resolved: Smash the Patriarchy!”

My stomach was in knots leading up to the debate. It was the kickoff event to launch our new alliance, and we’d never hosted a big, in-person event in New York City before. How was this about to go?

As one man gleefully exclaimed directly following the debate, “No one punched each other in the face!” He was genuinely impressed. “This is New York City, after all. That’s not always guaranteed!”

There were periods of tension during the night, to be sure — times when the knots in my stomach only tightened. But there were also moments when speakers took on the spirit of the venue and cracked a few jokes — the audience erupting into laughter.

And then, after it was all over — once we survived our first big test — we headed around the corner to the Olive Tree Cafe to break bread and grab beers together. Suddenly, two people who had just been challenging one another were now happily chatting about something entirely different.

Humor and politics can be a tricky thing. We take politics seriously because the impact it has on people’s lives can be gut-wrenching and profound.

But maybe it could do us some good not to take ourselves too seriously. Maybe we can find a way to listen to and even laugh with one another again.

For more on humor and politics, check out “ Jesters and Fools,” a documentary featuring different comedians reflecting on the state of politics and political polarization.

Read More

Iguanas on the Tombstones: A Poet's Metaphor for Colonialism​
Photo illustration by Yunuen Bonaparte for palabra

Iguanas on the Tombstones: A Poet's Metaphor for Colonialism​

Iguanas may seem like an unconventional subject for verse. Yet their ubiquitous presence caught the attention of Puerto Rican poet Martín Espada when he visited a historic cemetery in Old San Juan, the burial place of pro-independence voices from political leader Pedro Albizu Campos to poet and political activist José de Diego.

“It was quite a sight to witness these iguanas sunning themselves on a wall of that cemetery, or slithering from one tomb to the next, or squatting on the tomb of Albizu Campos, or staring up at the bust of José de Diego, with a total lack of comprehension, being iguanas,” Espada told palabra from his home in the western Massachusetts town of Shelburne Falls.

Keep ReadingShow less
Does One Battle After Another Speak to Latino Resistance?

Leonardo DiCaprio, Benicio del Toro, Chase Infiniti, and Paul Thomas Anderson pose during the fan event for the movie 'One Battle After Another' at Plaza Toreo Parque Central on September 18, 2025 in Naucalpan de Juarez, Mexico.

(Photo by Eloisa Sanchez/Getty Images)

Does One Battle After Another Speak to Latino Resistance?

After decades of work, Angeleno director P.T. Anderson has scored his highest-grossing film with his recent One Battle After Another. Having opened on the weekend of September 26, the film follows the fanatical, even surrealistic, journey of washed-up revolutionary Bob Ferguson (Leonardo DiCaprio), who lives in hiding with his teenage daughter, Willa (Chase Infiniti), some fifteen years after his militant group, French 75, went underground. When their nemesis Colonel Lockjaw (Sean Penn) resurfaces, Bob and Wila again find themselves running from the law. When Wila goes AWOL, her karate teacher, Sensei Sergio St. Carlos (Benicio del Toro), is enlisted to help Bob find his daughter. Although ambitious, edgy, and fun, the political message of the hit film is generally muddled. The immensely talented director did not make a film matching the Leftist rigor of, say, Battleship Potemkin. Nor can the film be grouped among a veritable cavalcade of fictional and non-fictional films produced during the last twenty years that deal with immigrant issues along the U.S.-Mexico Border. Sleep Dealer, El Norte, and Who is Dayani Cristal? are but a few of the stronger offerings of a genre of filmmaking that, for both good and bad, may constitute a true cinematic cottage industry.

Nevertheless, the film leans heavily into Latino culture in terms of themes, setting, and characters. Filmed largely in the U.S.’s Bordertown par excellence—El Paso, Texas—we meet the martial arts teacher Sergio, who describes his work helping migrants cross the border as a “Latino Harriet Tubman situation.” We learn that the fugitive revolutionary, Bob, is known by several aliases, including “The Gringo Coyote.” His savior, Sensei Sergio, explains to him outrightly that he’s “a bad hombre”—cheekily invoking the hurtful bon mots used by then-candidate Donald Trump in a 2016 debate with Hilary Clinton. The epithet is repeated later on in the film when Bob, under police surveillance in the hospital, is tipped off to an exit route by a member of the French 75 disguised as a nurse: “Are you diabetic? You’re a bad hombre, Bob. You know, if you’re a bad hombre, you make sure you take your insulin on a daily basis, right?” All this, plus the fact that the film’s denouement begins with a raid on a Mexican Restaurant in Northern California.

Keep ReadingShow less
​Jimmy Kimmel onstage during the 67th GRAMMY Awards

Jimmy Kimmel onstage during the 67th GRAMMY Awards on February 01, 2025, in Los Angeles, California

Getty Images, Johnny Nunez

Why the Fight Over Jimmy Kimmel Matters for Us All

There are moments in a nation’s cultural life that feel, at first, like passing storms—brief, noisy, and soon forgotten. But every so often, what begins as a squall reveals itself as a warning: a sign that something far bigger is at stake. The initial cancellation of Jimmy Kimmel by Disney, along with the coordinated blackout from network affiliates like Nexstar and Sinclair, is one of those moments. It’s not merely another skirmish in the endless culture wars. Actually, it is a test of whether we, as a society, can distinguish between the discomfort of being challenged and the danger of being silenced.

The irony is rich, almost to the point of being absurd. Here is a late-night comedian, a man whose job is to puncture the pompous and needle the powerful, finding himself at the center of a controversy. A controversy bigger than anything he’d ever lampooned. Satire that, depending on your perspective, was either too pointed or simply pointed in the wrong direction. Yet, that was not the ostensible reason.

Keep ReadingShow less
Bad Bunny preforming on stage alongside two other people.

Bad Bunny performs live during "No Me Quiero Ir De Aquí; Una Más" Residencia at Coliseo de Puerto Rico José Miguel Agrelot on September 20, 2025 in San Juan, Puerto Rico

Getty Images, Gladys Vega

From Woodstock to Super Bowl: Bad Bunny and the Legacy of Musical Protest

As Bad Bunny prepares to take the Super Bowl stage in February 2026—and grassroots rallies in his honor unfold across U.S. cities this October—we are witnessing a cultural moment that echoes the artist-led protests of the 1960s and 70s. His decision to exclude U.S. tour dates over fears of ICE raids is generating considerable anger amongst his following, as well as support from MAGA supporters. The Trump administration views his lyrics and his fashion as threats. As the story unfolds, it is increasingly becoming a political narrative rather than just entertainment news.

Music has long been a part of the American political scene. In 1969, Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young released “Ohio,” a response to the Kent State shootings that galvanized antiwar sentiment.

Keep ReadingShow less