Wait, what?: Two days before Christmas, Donald Trump tweeted something deeply disturbing about nuclear weapons. Or was it? Fred Kaplan tries valiantly to parse his meaning.
Trouble ahead: Michelle Goldberg started 2016 feeling fairly positive about feminism’s prospects. At the end of a dark year, she worries that we’ve only begun to see the shape of the coming backlash.
A movie out of time: Martin Scorcese’s Silence stands out among the usual end-of-year fare. Dana Stevens found herself well dazzled.
Mea culpa: Writing to the other members of Slate’s end-of-year Music Club, Carl Wilson looks back at the biggest mistake he made in 2016 and ponders what it means for the way reviewers digest new albums now.
RIP: Actress Carrie Fisher died Tuesday at age 60. We remember her as the screwball heart of Star Wars, a wonderful supporting presence in When Harry Met Sally …, and the center of one of the best episodes of 30 Rock.
For fun: The Toast’s 2013 ode to the best line readings in When Harry Met Sally …
You’ll never have to be out there again,
Rebecca
