Hey, it's Baratunde.
I’m writing from the lobby of the Fairmont hotel in downtown Austin, Texas where I’m stationed for the SXSW festival, and where I recently shared the stage with my friend Priya Parker. I’m excited to be back: There’s BBQ and alcohol aplenty and a happy, overdue family reunion vibe. After all, it’s been three years since I or anyone was able to attend. For many of us in the media and technology, the cancellation of SXSW, in the second week of March 2020, represented the final confirmation that the world was about to come to a stop due to Covid-19.
Yet despite the feeling of return and renewal in the air, the war in Ukraine and the implications of a fast-resuming Cold War feel certain to affect the mood, content, and forecasting here. It’s certainly affected mine. I haven’t been able to tune out Russia’s ongoing brutal invasion and what it means for the people of Ukraine and for all of us. Here’s what’s on my mind.
As a reminder, you're receiving the free version of this email at {{customer.email}}. If you're enjoying these notes, you can subscribe here for full access to Puck—including all of my incredible colleagues—and to support the journalism that we're producing together. I’ve been feeling more tired than usual these past two weeks. It took me a few days to identify the reason. Maybe it was the rapid unmasking of my fellow Americans? Or was it the fact that I took two cross-country flights in five days? No, it turns out the real reason for my fatigue was that I hadn’t scheduled a war in my calendar. Yet war has been occupying my mind, my heart, and my screens. Watching Vladimir Putin’s war on Ukraine has drained, enraged, and inspired me all at once.
I don’t generally operate on a daily basis with Ukraine or Russia on my mind. That changed within two days of the invasion after a friend from Eastern Europe, currently living close to me in Southern California, asked his American wife whether his family could move in with them, if it came to that. Without warning, I found myself near tears. This couple had previously been plotting the reverse migration: spending more time in Europe, that civilized place where universal healthcare is the norm and school and childcare costs don’t bankrupt families. But suddenly America looked safer and more stable, even with our wealth inequality and no-longer-notable school shootings. Being in Putin’s line of fire was a clearer and more present danger.
Then, after the unanticipated and deep sadness, came an even less familiar feeling: violent rage. I had a sudden urge to go to Ukraine and fight Russians. I have no military training, but I watched Red Dawn during my 1980s childhood, and too much Punisher in my 2010s adulthood, and the child in me who was bullied doesn’t take kindly to obvious bullying. Where were all these feelings coming from?
Perhaps it’s my own distant connection to Russian territorial aggression. Back in 2011, I took two trips to the Republic of Georgia...
FOUR STORIES WE'RE TALKING ABOUT Most shows don’t make it past three seasons. So how did a foul-mouthed cartoon become perhaps the most valuable asset in media? JULIA ALEXANDER The anniversary of Stalin’s death last week was a cruel reminder inside Russia that history frequently repeats itself. JULIA IOFFE MSNBC's recent struggles begs a two-fold question: who is in charge over there and what are they doing, exactly? DYLAN BYERS On Wall Street, the horror of Russia’s invasion of Ukraine has become a uniquely dark investing opportunity. WILLIAM D. COHAN |