Lorenzo Salgado Araujo, a 52-year-old construction contractor and father of three, was a “man of routine,” according to his sons. He woke up at 5 a.m. every day, ate a big breakfast prepared by his wife, and left home at sunrise to build houses in the Houston area. Salgado Araujo came across the border from Mexico as a teenager and had been working without legal status for 35 years. Yesterday he left in his work van to pick up his brother and two other men en route to a job.

Two hundred fifty years and two days into the American experiment, a 55-year-old bespectacled bald man from Liverpool enters a sterile hotel conference room in Atlanta, shaking his head. “It’s all gone to hell, hasn’t it?” he mutters. 
In 14 hours, the United States men’s soccer team is scheduled to play Belgium in the World Cup Round of 16, a match that ought to be a celebration of the U.S.’s triumphant, and somewhat unexpected, run in the world’s biggest sporting event.

Iran’s decision to attack ships transiting the Strait of Hormuz and the U.S. decision to retaliate and threaten to abandon diplomacy have pushed both sides close to the resumption of a war that neither wants.
For the United States—which joined Israel in late February in a war to end Iran’s nuclear ambitions, among other goals—allowing Iran’s continued attacks on ships in the strait risked signaling that Tehran still holds the whip hand over one of the world’s most strategic waterways.

If Donald Trump ever had any control over the war he started with Iran, he’s lost it. The Iranians are now setting the terms of this conflict and are routinely humiliating the American president. The “cease-fire” Trump declared last month—a move probably meant to both soothe international markets and avert legislative action from the United States Congress—never really existed, because neither side ever ceased firing.

The Senate race in Maine looks significantly different than it did 48 hours ago. Yesterday, Politico reported a credible allegation of sexual assault against the Democratic nominee, Graham Platner. In a video posted after the story broke, Platner denied the accusation but said that his campaign would explore the best way forward, opening the door to what seems like an inevitable withdrawal from the race.

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In recent years, ABC’s daytime talk show The View has become an essential stop for top-level politicians. Barack Obama, Donald Trump, Joe Biden, Kamala Harris, J. D. Vance, and Hillary Clinton are among the many to have visited.

Anyone with eyes can see that Monday night’s World Cup game was rigged. Team USA is winning, 0–0, and then suddenly all these goals start coming in for Belgium? Bang, bang, bang, one after the other, just like that? Very suspicious. But don’t worry. Your favorite president is on the case!
I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. I said, “Is this a Dominion scoreboard?” This is why we need the SAVE Act.

Years ago, when the Simpsons animator Chuck Sheetz was a lecturer at UCLA, he invited a producer colleague of his from the series to attend a screening of his students’ work. That was a Saturday night; when Sheetz entered the Simpsons offices the following Monday morning, he found a handful of his pupils in the reception area. The producer had offered them jobs, they said, and they were ready to join the team—the students had the animation skills required of a thriving production.

Nigel Farage is a great survivor. A decade ago, the British populist provocateur achieved his lifelong ambition—getting his country to vote itself out of the European Union. Since then, he has founded Reform UK—now Britain’s most popular party—and won a seat in Parliament after seven failed attempts. But one question won’t go away: Where does he get his money from?
Hoping to silence inquiries about his financial interests, the Reform leader today risked everything in a Trumpian gamble.