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SHE became the youngest ever Bond girl at 21 – and Gemma Arterton thinks one reason she landed the role as MI6 agent Strawberry Fields is because she teased 5ft 10in Daniel Craig about his height at the audition.

Now 40, the actress recalls how she had been relaxed about applying for the part in Quantum Of Solace because she did not realise quite how huge the 007 films were — and just tried out for “fun”.

Talking about Daniel, 58, who played Bond for 15 years, she says: “He’s got his sense of humour, so that was good.

“I used to poke him a bit, like, I think that’s why I got the job.

“I did a screen test with him and I came on set and said, ‘Hi’, and he said, ‘Hi’. I said, ‘You’re not as tall as I thought you would be in real life’.

“He said, ‘That’s really nice of you to say so’. I was joking with him. I didn’t think I’d get it.”

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After she landed the part, Gemma — who is 5ft 7in — says Daniel had to use height-boosting shoes for a few scenes when she was ­wearing stilettos.

Gemma, whose parents split when she was young, grew up on a Kent council estate with her mum Sally-Anne, a cleaner, and younger sister Hannah.

She said at the 2024 Marrakech International Film Festival: “I knew nothing about the Bond legacy because I grew up in an all-female household where we didn’t really watch movies.

“I literally didn’t know how big James Bond was, which sounds ridiculous because everyone else does. The ­surprise of how big it was — I couldn’t believe it.

“I auditioned for it because my agent told me to, not expecting to get it, and got it and just did it because it was fun.

“But I had an amazing time making it and it was huge. I had no idea what I was letting myself in for.

“We went on all these amazing locations. I had just left drama school, it was one of my first jobs, and it was the first time I was on a big film set.”

Now, Gemma is about to appear in another spy thriller — but this time she will take on the lead role in new ITV crime drama Secret Service, which starts tomorrow night.

She plays Kate Henderson, who balances being a suburban married mother of two teenagers with secretly being a senior MI6 operative and heading the Russian desk at the intelligence service.

It is based on the book of the same name by ITV newsreader Tom Bradby.

Gemma says: “She trains spies and finds out some very important information, which is that there is a Russian spy within the British government.

“Her mission is to find out, by hook or by crook, who that is. It’s really gripping. It’s edge-of-your-seat stuff.”

For this role, Gemma did plenty of research and, with writer Tom’s help, she even met a real-life spy to perfect the part.

She told ITV’s This Morning: “I was lucky enough to meet someone who could advise me on how they negotiate their lives and live day to day — you know, their family and their kids.

“There’s a scene where I tell my kids what I do and they don’t believe me, they laugh it off. And that came from this ­previous spy and what happened when he told his daughter and she thought, ‘You’re joking’.

“But it was invaluable to me because it’s not just the high-stakes lives they live, it’s about the attributes they have to be a spy, which are very specific — very risk averse, good at problem solving.”

Gemma has been acting since she was a teenager and was 16 when she first considered it as a career.

She says: “I come from a humble family. My father was a metal worker, my mother is a cleaner, and not involved in the arts in any way.

“I always liked performing and showing off. I didn’t know that acting was a profession really until I was about 16 and I was doing a lot of amateur dramatics as a hobby.

“There was a lady there who said, ‘You should go to college to study acting’.

“I thought, ‘OK let’s see what happens’. Then I saw Breaking Away and Dancing In The Dark and I was inspired.

“That’s when I realised I would like to give it a go.”

She first broke through with comedy film St Trinian’s in 2007, followed by Quantum Of Solace a year later.

Since then, she has made more than 30 films, including 2018’s Vita & Virginia, in which she played author Vita Sackville-West, who had a romantic ­relationship with fellow writer Virginia Woolf.

Talking about why she left Hollywood films behind to make more independent movies, Gemma says: “I think at the time it was very different in the industry to how it is now for women.

“In those films — not the Bond film. I had a really good time making that film, but the other ones — I didn’t feel very empowered.

“I didn’t feel like I had a voice and I didn’t feel comfortable. I always felt good doing independent films.

“My taste is that as well. I like independent film, it’s my passion. Usually, the stories are better and the characters are stronger and I felt like I had a voice on set.”

Films such as Byzantium, The Voices, Their Finest and The Disappearance Of Alice Creed followed, alongside performing with the Royal Shakespeare Company and starring in stage productions such as Nell Gwynn, which won her an Olivier Award in 2016.

On the Dish podcast, Gemma told how, when she starred in The Little Dog Laughed at London’s Garrick Theatre in 2010 with Tamsin Greig, Rupert Friend and Harry Lloyd, they had a novel way to try to dispel their nerves.
Laughing, she said: “We used to play this game called bum slap.

“We’d be on stage before the audience came in, obviously, and you have to run around and smack each other’s bum.

“Basically, you have to smack as many bums as you can. And it was the best warm-up ever because you were all loosey goosey.

“I think I’d rather do bum slap than any of the old acting rituals.”

Gemma loves working in Britain because she gets to perform different accents.

She said: “I do enjoy a Liverpool, that melting pot of accents that is Lancashire, Manchester and Blackburn, it’s insane.”

Gemma herself had a Cockney accent before gaining her scholarship to the Royal Academy Of Dramatic Art, where it “softened up a bit”.
London is now her home, but her mum still lives in Gravesend — and now does watch films, thanks to her famous daughter.

Gemma says: “She’s grand, she’s living the life. She’s down in Kent where I grew up, the same home — I paid off the mortgage.

“I think she does eventually watch my shows. She takes her time and needs to watch them with the subtitles on, maybe to absorb them.

“She’s very honest. She’ll say, ‘Why did you do that? You sold out there’.”

Gemma has her own family now, too — son Theo, three, and a baby boy whose name she has not revealed — with her husband, Peaky Blinders actor Rory Keenan, who she married in 2019.

They do not live a showbiz life, but he is supportive of her work.

Gemma says: “My family life is my world now, whereas before it was work.

“It’s made me hyper-focused on what I do want to do.

“Before, it was like, ‘I will do that with that director or that actor I like’, even though it wasn’t the best thing for me.

“But now it’s made me really specific about what I want to do, because if I’m going to be away from them, which I inevitably will, it’s hard.

“But if I’m in it and enjoy the work, then it’s OK.”

Timeline of James Bond actors

Over the years there have been seven actors who have played 007.

The first ever James Bond film was in 1962, and this is who has played the lead role over the years:

• Sean Connery – The late star was the first ever actor to play Bond, and reprised the role for seven movies.
• George Lazenby – The star only played Bond once, but was the youngest actor to ever play the spy.
• Roger Moore – The late movie star spent 12 years making seven films in the famous franchise.
• Timothy Dalton – The smooth actor took over from Roger Moore and appeared in The Living Daylights and Licence to Kill.
• Pierce Brosnan – The handsome star played Bond for four movies from 1995 to 2002.
• Daniel Craig – The British star was the first blonde James Bond and the sixth actor to win the role in 2005.

WASHINGTON — The Republican chair of the House Oversight Committee said some of its members would support a presidential pardon for convicted sex trafficker Ghislaine Maxwell in exchange for her assistance in the committee’s investigation into Jeffrey Epstein.

But good luck getting any of them to admit it.

Rep. James Comer (R-Ky.) told Politico Wednesday that “a lot of people” support the idea of Maxwell receiving a pardon from President Trump in exchange for her cooperation in the committee’s investigation.

Although Comer said he opposed a pardon himself — “other than Epstein, the worst person in this whole investigation is Maxwell” — he offered that his committee was “split” on the issue.

Rep. Robert Garcia of Long Beach, the top Democrat on his committee, condemned the idea of a Maxwell pardon and said Democrats on the committee uniformly oppose it.

“It’s outrageous that Republicans on the Oversight Committee are considering a pardon for Ghislaine Maxwell,” Garcia said in a statement. “She is a sexual abuser who facilitated the rape of women and children.”

The Times reached out to all 26 Republicans on the committee to see who, if anyone, supported the idea of a pardon.

Although most didn’t respond, the few who did expressed outrage at the idea.

“I am absolutely not supporting a pardon for her nor have I heard that from anyone else,” said Rep. Anna Paulina Luna (R-Fla.).

“Never in a thousand years,” said Rep. Clay Higgins (R-La.).

Maxwell declined to answer the committee’s questions during a video deposition in February from the Texas federal prison where she is serving her 20-year prison sentence.

She is still challenging her 2021 conviction on five counts related to the sex trafficking of minors for her role in recruiting and grooming girls for Epstein to abuse. She was accused at trial of also participating in the abuse of one victim.

At the time of her February deposition, Maxwell’s attorney David Oscar Markus said she would offer the “unfiltered truth” if granted clemency by Trump.

Attorneys who have represented victims abused by Epstein and Maxwell strongly opposed the idea of a pardon.

“This is a woman who belongs behind bars for the rest of her life for what she did to women,” said Spencer Kuvin, who has represented numerous Epstein victims.

Sigrid McCawley, a managing partner at Boies Schiller Flexner, questioned the value of information Maxwell could provide.

“Ghislaine Maxwell is a proven self-serving liar,” McCawley said in a statement. “There is nothing credible that she will offer the government, and the assertion that she would provide information is simply a smoke screen.”

Trump has not said he is considering a pardon but when asked by reporters he has declined to rule it out.

Epstein abused more than 1,000 girls and young women over the span of decades. He negotiated a lenient deal nearly two decades ago with federal prosecutors in south Florida that allowed him to serve 13 months in a Palm Beach County jail where he was allowed to come and go freely to settle claims that he had abused dozens of high school girls.

Following investigative reporting on that deal by the Miami Herald, federal prosecutors in the Southern District of New York brought new sex charges against Epstein in July 2019. He died in federal custody one month later.

Epstein and Maxwell counted members of the British royal family, multiple presidents and business titans among their friends.

They have been accused of forcing some of their victims to have sex with some of those men. But Maxwell is the only other person who has ever been charged in connection with Epstein’s crimes.

The committee has deposed numerous people who knew Epstein, including Ohio billionaire Les Wexner, who hired Epstein to manage his finances, and former President Clinton and former Secretary of State Hillary Clinton.

The committee has not, however, deposed Trump, who once famously called Epstein a “terrific guy” and said, “I just wish her well,” when told of Maxwell’s arrest in 2020.

The Department of Justice has also released millions of pages of documents from its investigations into the deceased sex offender in response to the bipartisan Epstein Files Transparency Act, which was signed into law last year.

The release of the files has led to criminal inquiries in the United Kingdom into Andrew Mountbatten-Windsor, the former prince, and Peter Mandelson, the former British ambassador to the United States, over allegations that they provided secret government information to Epstein.

So far, the files have not led to any publicly known criminal investigations in the United States.

The co-creators of the new Prime Video series “Kevin” tried to make the show “as personal as possible,” says Joe Wengert, explaining that he and Aubrey Plaza looked back to the end of their relationship nearly two decades ago for inspiration. Then, Wengert says, they focused on “the emotional story and investing in the inner lives” of the main characters. (Plaza’s production partner, Dan Murphy, was a third co-creator.)

And, Plaza adds, they strived to give the show a real “groundedness” in its specific New York neighborhood — Astoria, Queens, where she and Wengert lived together — while also “infusing some of my film nerdiness and love of New York films.” There’s even a rooftop scene that’s a homage to Al Pacino’s first leading film role, in “The Panic in Needle Park.”

OK, so all of that’s totally true, but “Kevin” is mostly a silly, raunchy animated series with a star-studded comedy cast about talking animals and their escapades in a life generally free of human owners.

The show opens with a couple, Dan (Mike Mitchell) and Dana (Plaza), breaking up and their cat, Kevin (Jason Schwartzman), deciding he’s done with both humans and will find his own way in the world.

“Joe and I were talking and realized we both weirdly wanted to do a cat comedy, and he had this idea and I loved it,” Plaza says, explaining that when they broke up, Kevin and another cat, Howard, passively went with Wengert. (Howard died relatively young, but, spoiler alert, Plaza says a cat named Howard will make an appearance as a tribute.)

“Joe was then doing a lot of comedy about being a single guy with cats.”

Wengert, who serves as showrunner, says the breakup was “a significant moment in my life” and he wanted to explore that, but a sad man going off to reconnect with his friends was not as funny as this concept. “The idea of this just made us laugh,” he says.

The real Kevin was a homebody, not a cat who looked longingly out the window, Wengert says, adding that he always felt bad for Kevin: “You could have been with Aubrey Plaza but you’re stuck with me in my studio apartment.”

In the series, Kevin soon lands at an animal rescue where he falls in with Cupcake (Whoopi Goldberg), a self-declared feral cat with a kinky and rebellious side; Armando (John Waters), an aristocratic cat with a haughty attitude; Judy (Aparna Nancherla), a cat with gross eye infections who is way more upbeat and hopeful about the world than she should be; and a shrill and bossy dog named Brandi (Amy Sedaris), who runs the human Seth (Gil Ozeri) — ostensibly the operator of the shelter.

After his owners break up, Kevin decides to stay at an animal shelter, where he makes friends with a rag-tag group of cats, dogs and other animals.

(Courtesy of Prime)

“This idea of fending for yourself and trusting your instincts is part of checking off boxes to show you have lived a quote unquote real life,” says Schwartzman, briefly growing philosophical about what intrigued him about playing a neurotic cat.

The cats encounter plenty of other animals on their adventures, from a drunk spider to a deer that gets hit by a car and curses out the driver. “That made me laugh out loud,” says Plaza, who also voices numerous animals, including the spider and a pitbull love interest for Cupcake. “I’ve always wanted a love story with Whoopi Goldberg,” she adds.

(Wengert voices a parrot named Paco, among others, and says there’s talk of adding a tortoise.)

One secondary character is a horse named Patti Lupony, who, naturally, is voiced by Patti LuPone. She’s part of a stacked guest star roster that includes Addison Rae, Cary Elwes, Charles Melton, Nicole Byer, Jim O’Heir, Maria Bamford, Quinta Brunson and Tig Notaro. Many of the actors, including Schwartzman, Waters, LuPone and O’Heir, are Plaza’s friends.

“I like to do things that people don’t expect me to be in, and this is definitely one of them,” says Waters, adding that “Armando is not a real fan of humans, and as a human, I’m not a real fan of cats.”

Still, Waters, who prefers dogs, says he was easily able to get into Armando’s skin. “I’m a Method actor, so I was crawling around the floor,” he jokes, before adding, “If I was a cat, I would probably act like Armando.”

For what it’s worth, Schwartzman also owns dogs, though he’s quick to point out that growing up in Los Angeles, he volunteered at a cat shelter, and these days Plaza actually owns a dog, too. But as anyone who has seen her in “Parks and Recreation” or other roles would surmise, Plaza says, “I have cat-like tendencies and relate more to cats.”

Plaza and Wengert also incorporated the actors’ sensibilities and personalities.

“We would change things on the fly based on the actor’s input,” Wengert says.

Plaza says that Waters is known for being provocative and loves reading tabloids but that he asked to tone down Armando’s snide put-downs of celebrities. “I felt ill at ease about them,” Waters says. “I’ve gotten away with my career for 50 years because I’m not mean. My specialty is praising things other people hate, not the other way around.”

Wengert says the change “forced us to dig deeper and find something more unique in the character, so I’m happy that he asked us to make the change.”

(He adds that he expected Goldberg to object more “because we gave her so many outrageous lines” but she rarely did, except “to pitch something that was even funnier that worked better.”)

Plaza knew Kevin’s neuroses fit Schwartzman but also that he could bring his own touches while improvising. “He’s really funny about his own body,” she says. “We were hanging out once and he just said, ‘Feel this, my leg is really heavy.’ So we put that in for Kevin.”

Schwartzman says, seemingly seriously, “Wow, I don’t have a memory of that exact moment, but it is true that my leg does feel heavy.” And he adds that his friendship with Plaza enabled him to feel comfortable throwing out ideas during recording, adding that the improvising and tweaking went both ways, with the writers constantly adding new ideas. “It was a collaboration and an evolution,” he says.

The writers room is stacked with people who, like Plaza and Wengert, hail from the Upright Citizens Brigade improv world. (Wengert, who also imported writers he’d worked with on Netflix’s “Big Mouth,” was running the UCB school when they met.) “Our sense of humor is very aligned,” Plaza says.

While Plaza loves how “freeing” animation is — “your imagination can run totally wild” — she says that even though it’s out of character for her, she’d play the “bad cop” in the writers room. Wengert says one day she brought Schwartzman in and he and the writers pitched some wild ideas that made them say, “What the f— is going on.”

“We’re just building the world, so you need some rules, otherwise all the inanimate objects can start talking,” Plaza says. “When things started getting too crazy, I’d say, ‘Let’s rein it in.’”

The example Wengert gives is that they can briefly have a talking pizza slice (it is New York, after all) but they don’t want it to become close friends with Kevin in a major plotline.

But if they get to produce a second season — the scripts are already written — Plaza says the leash will get looser “and it will get more insane.”

No actor in a movie this month is enjoying themselves more than Ian McKellen as an egomaniac painter in Steven Soderbergh’s slender pleasure “The Christophers.” Once, his Julian Sklar was the bisexual provocateur of the London art scene commanding millions for a single piece. Now he’s better known as the villain of “Art Fight,” a reality competition show where he took cruel pleasure destroying amateurs’ hopes.

Equally dismissive of his own output, Julian hasn’t wielded a paintbrush in decades. And so his adult children Barnaby and Sallie (James Corden and Jessica Gunning of “Baby Reindeer”) — two money-grubbing, untalented brats — hire a broke art restorer, Lori (Michaela Coel), to finish a stack of half-sketched portraits Julian made of his male ex-lover that were left abandoned in the attic. Don’t think of it as forgery, Barnaby assures Lori, “more like forging through them until they are completed.”

That’s a great line, and “The Christophers” has a dozen more almost as good. Nearly all get delivered by McKellen’s Julian, waving a champagne coupe while monologuing about humidifiers, cancel culture and a doctor who smells like radishes. He seems to imagine acolytes — or at least, television audiences — eagerly soaking up his bon mots. Meanwhile, Lori, a young Black woman hired under false pretenses as an assistant, stares mutely. If their first meeting as boss and employee were freeze-framed into a painting, it would be called “A Study in Contrasts.”

The script is by Ed Solomon, who also collaborated with Soderbergh on the more action-packed 2021 gangster movie “No Sudden Move.” This plot doodles along, rarely going where we expect. Mostly, Julian and Lori take turns thwarting his obnoxious kids and threatening to quit. I chuckled every time Corden and Gunning showed up for more abuse, including from Soderbergh, who shoots them like a wall of stupidity, blocking doorways as they stand side-by-side like Tweedledee and Tweedledum.

The inequalities of the art world are gestured to as fact. Lori, who might be every bit as technically gifted as Julian, ekes out a living serving egg rolls in a food truck while sharing a walk-up loft with three other struggling painters. Julian lords over not one but two swanky adjoining townhouses stuffed with antiques. Once, to flip off the establishment, he sold a work worth 2 million British pounds for the price of a used car. His version of disdain is her idea of a fortune.

One stick figure by Julian would be worth more than anything Lori’s ever done, which makes it extra maddening that he chooses instead to earn a little extra pocket money recording video messages for fans who only care about him as that mean guy on TV. In the glow of a ring light, he tosses off glib advice that might itself be worthless. Quit art school, he tells one, and “happy birthday, blah, blah, blah.” (Even imagining a popular TV show about art is, in itself, culturally aspirational for those of us who enjoy reruns of Bob Ross.)

Why is there such disparity between the value of Julian and Lori’s work? The reasons are so obvious that, to the film, they’re barely worth mentioning: age, gender, era, fame and skill. Julian would dismiss the first two, claiming that wokeness gives an old, white male like him the handicap. But it’s frustrating that the film doesn’t dig very deep into the rest, either. I especially wanted a scene where Julian must reckon with a no-name interloper’s ability to copy his genius, but comparing whether Lori is Julian’s equal would call the film’s bluff and force it to actually show us their art. The handheld camera prefers to lurk on the wooden side of the easel.

Really, I’m not sure Soderbergh even has an opinion on their clash. He just wants to be an eavesdropper in the room, standing back against the dusty brick-a-brack. Of course, if you squint, you can see what interests Soderbergh in this set-up. Like Julian, he’s been threatening to retire for years. He knows how irritated people are when an artist claims they don’t want to bother anymore. And like the neglected paintings in the attic — the Christophers of the title — every filmmaker has their own unfinished projects taking up mental space overhead, treasured ideas that will never emerge to their satisfaction.

Still, I suspect that even if Soderbergh personally identifies with the premise (even though he continues to release more movies in one year than his peers do in five), he still finds Julian’s paralysis a bit pathetic. Julian just needs paint, a brush and the will to create. Filmmakers, now those poor bastards need rich patrons.

Even so, Soderbergh likes to make movies as resourcefully as he can, doing his own editing and cinematography and, above all, prioritizing the act of invention. He can’t be copied because his own work is so eclectic. Have you ever heard of any director being called the next Soderbergh? You sense that, to him, forgery is as creatively dull as a factory-issued franchise sequel. (Except, of course, his “Magic Mike” and “Ocean’s” series, which are, at their best, closer to wacky Warhols.)

Tasked to play the foil to McKellen’s clown, Coel comes off stiff. She has the spine to hold her own against him, but it’s hard to play withholding, particularly when the film needs her character to be both the voice of reason and a politically correct scold. Only her carved cheekbones give off an impression of Lori’s hungry ambition. Still, when she does deign to speak, there’s a dynamite scene where she dresses down Julian critically and psychologically. Whether or not she’s the second coming of him as an artist, she’s more insightful than he ever was insulting watercolors of kittens on TV.

Really, we’re just watching McKellen give a bravura, scene-gobbling performance that doesn’t hold back one iota. My favorite detail he pulls off comes when he greets Lori at the front door undressed and, when she insists he wear clothes, ties on a trench coat that somehow makes him look even more pervy and naked in how McKellen wears it, leaving one bare shoulder roguishly exposed.

The film has plenty of funny little asides like that which make it worth your while. Angelenos will chuckle at a scene in which two characters verbally commit to a meet-up both know won’t happen — or, as we say here, let’s do lunch. Out of magnanimity, I’ll liken this trifle to a Rothko. The more I think about “The Christophers,” the more I imagine it has interesting layers. But I won’t fault anyone who just sees a simple square.

When the speaker of the Texas House recently outlined his priorities for the next legislative session, he mentioned tax relief, the development of data centers and a notion that sent many eyebrows skyward.

Dustin Burrows, a Republican from Lubbock, directed the chamber’s governmental oversight committee to study the legal and economic implications of Texas absorbing one or more counties in eastern New Mexico.

The “conversation,” Burrows told the Dallas Morning News, “is ultimately about culture, opportunity and the right to choose a path that reflects the shared values of the Permian and Delaware basins,” a vast desert expanse awash in oil and natural gas.

Apparently, Texas lawmakers have time and money to burn.

The notion of the swaggering state swallowing a chunk of its resistant neighbor is completely far-fetched. Just four states have been carved from the territory of others: Kentucky, Maine, Vermont and West Virginia. And it’s been quite a spell since the last time that happened. West Virginia split off from Confederate Virginia in 1863.

Realistically, there is no end of hurdles — legal, political, practical — that would have to be surmounted for a partial Texas-New Mexico merger to occur. Both states would need to agree — New Mexico is a hard no — and Congress would also have to approve.

But the impulse to bust up, break away and move on is as old as America itself and, at the same time, as fresh as the latest provocation to pass the lips of the nation’s frothing commander-in-chief.

“Calexit,” the idea of California breaking away from the U.S. and becoming its own nation, took root during President Trump’s turbulent first reign and gained renewed support as soon as he returned to power. Texas toyed with the idea of secession when Barack Obama was president.

“The driver,” said Syracuse University professor Ryan Griffiths, an author and expert on secession, “is politics and polarization.”

The notion being if you don’t like it, then leave.

Or, at least, make noise about doing so.

Eastern New Mexico — dry, desolate — looks and feels very much like an appendage of West Texas. Its residents have long been estranged from the rest of their state and, especially, the Democratic leadership in Santa Fe, the state capital. That is not to say, however, the slightest inch of New Mexico territory will be going anywhere anytime soon.

Earlier this year, two Republican state lawmakers introduced a measure to give voters a say on whether they wanted their counties to break away — or, as one of the legislators put it, “Get the hell out of New Mexico.” The constitutional amendment died without a hearing.

When Burrows renewed talk of a takeover, Javier Martinez, speaker of the New Mexico House, responded without equivocation. “Over my dead body,” he said.

But the notion has garnered Burrows plenty of attention in the Lone Star State, a place with no lack of self-regard. And it certainly hasn’t hurt his standing with Texas’ arch-conservative Republican base, which has sometimes viewed Burrows with suspicion.

“People in Texas have a lot of fun with the idea that Texas … is entitled to secede and that maybe it can restore lost lands in New Mexico, Kansas, Colorado and beyond,” said Cal Jillson, a longtime student of Texas politics at Southern Methodist University. “It [appeals to] the conservative base, but also to everyone who loves to chuckle.”

Serious or not, secession — or independence, as some prefer to call it — has long been the dream of dissenters, of the discontented and those who feel put upon or politically unrepresented. America, after all, was birthed by divorcing itself from Britain and King George III.

For the longest time, residents in the ruddy north of blue California have agitated for a breakaway state called Jefferson. In recent years unhappy conservatives in eastern Oregon have spoken of splitting from their Democratic state and becoming a part of Republican Idaho. (Lawmakers in Boise passed a measure in 2023 inviting Oregon to the negotiating table; Oregon has so far declined to show.)

Since 2020, voters in 33 rural Illinois counties have voted to separate from their state and its Democratic leadership, a move welcomed in a measure passed by the Republican-run Indiana Legislature and signed by the state’s GOP governor, Mike Braun. (Illinois Gov. JB Pritzker dismissed the 2025 legislation as “a stunt.”)

Which, indeed, it appeared to be.

But Richard Kreitner said there is a certain logic behind secession movements, as governments from Washington to the statehouse are seen as increasingly unresponsive and dysfunctional.

“As people become more disenfranchised … more disillusioned from the political process, you’re going to start looking outside of the political process, the political structure, the constitutional structure, for a possible solution,” said Kreitner, who hosts a history podcast, “Think Back,” and has also written a book on secession. “If you’re going to do that in a country founded with a secessionist manifesto, the Declaration of Independence, at some point people are going to start thinking about that.”

Legitimate grievance grounded in serious concern is certainly worthy of attention. But exploiting that discontent to draw notice or score cheap political points — as Burrows seems to be doing in Texas — is something altogether different.

The chance of New Mexico ceding a part of itself to Texas is precisely zero, meaning the legislative study is less about “culture” and “opportunity” than the speaker and fellow Republicans evidently looking to troll their blue-state neighbor.

There are better, more productive ways for lawmakers to spend their time.

And their taxpayers’ dime.

Global affairs journalist Tara Kangarlou notes a growing shift, as some Iranians who initially believed that the US and its allies could bring stability are now rejecting that idea after over a month of attacks.

The recently revised food pyramid may put fruit as a medium priority, but there is nothing the Trump administration likes more than the apple of discord.

Every news cycle, the president seems intent on introducing something new for Americans to argue about: the wisdom (and legality) of war in Iraq; the term “affordability”; the efficacy of mail-in ballots (which the president recently used); the meaning of birthright; the legitimacy of a vice president who has been publicly admonished by two popes for writing a book about his conversion to Catholicism — heck, we’re still arguing about that new food pyramid.

But there is one recent development upon which we really should all agree — erecting a gold statue of President Trump in the middle of his proposed presidential library is a No Good, Very Bad Idea.

On Tuesday, the president’s son Eric posted a first-look video for said library, which will reside on the waterfront in Miami. While questions were raised about the inclusion of the Boeing 747-8 the president controversially accepted as a gift from Qatar and the apparent lack of space in the sky-scraping library for, you know, books, it was the enormous gold statue of Trump towering over the stage in a proposed auditorium that drew the most immediate attention.

That Trump chose to reveal this little (well, actually quite big) beauty mere days after millions of Americans across the country participated in a coordinated No Kings march can be taken as either breathtaking irony or, more probably, a rage-baiting metaphoric middle finger.

As he has been recently wont to do, California Gov. Gavin Newsom quickly responded on his press office X account with photos of gold statuary depicting former chairman of the Chinese Communist Party Mao Zedong, North Korea’s Kim Il-Sung and Turkmenistan’s Saparmurat Niyazov and the observation that “The gold statue in Trump’s new library (of himself) looks awfully familiar to a few others from around the world.”

Trump’s obsession with gold will no doubt obsess future generations of historians, artists, psychoanalysts and Wikipedia editors — the guerrilla art group Secret Handshake on Monday put up a gold toilet statue on the National Mall mocking the president’s plans to renovate the Lincoln bathroom during a time of war and strife, as tribute, according to the statue’s plaque, “to an unwavering visionary who looked down, saw a problem and painted it gold.”

But even allowing for personal taste, a big golden statue of Trump is a terrible idea. For him.

In times of trouble and/or leadership changes, statues are often the first to go — as Trump knows well, since he’s working to replace the Confederate generals displaced after the Black Lives Matter movement and recently erected, near the White House, a replica of the Christopher Columbus statue thrown into Baltimore’s Inner Harbor during 2020 protests.

After hearing the Declaration of Independence read publicly for the first time, members of the Sons of Liberty tore down a statue of King George III from Bowling Green; during the French Revolution, the kings all across Paris came down; ditto Napoleon when he fell out of favor. In Russia, tsarist monuments were replaced by statues of Communist leaders, which in turn were torn down — statues of Stalin also fell in Hungary, Georgia and Albania. More recently, a statue of Saddam Hussein famously met the same fate.

As Robert Frost might have put it: Something there is that doesn’t love a statue of a divisive leader. Especially if it’s gold.

OK, I added that last bit.

There are plenty of famous and popular gold statues — Thailand’s Golden Buddha; the Golden Madonna of Essen in Germany; Jeanne d’Arc in Paris; Prometheus at Rockefeller Center in New York; even Tutankhamun’s death mask and solid gold coffin, which travel the world. But, as perhaps you have noticed, they trend toward the religious, mythic or historic, i.e. dead.

In the lavish memorial erected by his grieving widow, Queen Victoria, Prince Albert is golden, but few world leaders are permanently gilded, and certainly not before their deaths. (London’s golden statue of King Charles II was erected during his lifetime but originally in bronze — the gold was added later. It also depicts Charles in Roman garb, so I suppose the Trump statue could be worse — at least we don’t see his naked knees.)

In the United States, golden statuary is rare and usually metaphoric — the Oregon Pioneer, the Golden Driller, the Spirit of Communication. Gold remains captivating, an aspirational symbol of success (“gold standard”) and wealth (“golden touch”), but it can also bring with it an air of mockery (“golden boy”) and warning. The original golden touch belonged to King Midas, who loved it until he accidentally killed his daughter by turning her into a gold statue.

Displays of it, particularly in architecture or public art, are often perceived as tacky, kitschy or, heaven forbid, nouveau riche. Trump is fine being perceived as all of these things; he has long embraced the gleaming excesses of Versailles — the golden elevator will also be featured in the new proposed library.

His personal taste is his right and is shared by many.

In terms of statuary, however, “golden” is most typically associated with “idol,” figures that are erected specifically to be worshiped — the Golden Calf that made God and Moses so angry comes to mind — and Americans, historically, have not been big fans of idolatry.

Hence the separation of church and state, a three-branch government and a president with a limited term. The early colonists were very much anti-idol worshippers and even modern Catholics, as Vice President Vance surely knows, have long been criticized by their Protestant counterparts for a love of statuary, reliquaries and other iconography that some have argued fall into idolatry.

Trump clearly has no problem with idolatry, as long as he is the idol in question — he has long characterized his supporters as people who will love him no matter what he does. So no one should be surprised that his son would anchor the Trump presidential library with an enormous golden statue of his father — Trump is not a man to be satisfied with bronze or, heaven forbid, a marble bust.

No doubt, any criticism of that statue will be met with derision from Trump supporters. In its many guises, idolatry has survived, despite regular and often cataclysmic proof of its dangers, for centuries and many people will consider a much-larger-than-life golden statue of a president to be perfectly splendid.

But someone might want to mention to the president that flashing a big gold statue of himself while cities are still doing cleanup from enormous No Kings marches might seem funny to some. But to others … well, Versailles was once a dazzling royal residence.

Until it wasn’t.

Lindsey Vonn is less than two months removed from a skiing accident at the Milan-Cortina Olympics that almost resulted in the amputation of her left leg.

She has stopped taking painkillers but is still exhausted.

She is back home in Park City, Utah, but spends nearly all of her time in rehab.

She is 41 and has won four overall World Cup championships, with 84 World Cup wins and three Olympic medals, including gold in the downhill at the 2010 Vancouver Games.

Yet, Vonn would not definitively say that her competitive skiing career is over, during a recent interview with Vanity Fair’s Elise Taylor.

“I don’t like to close the door on anything, because you just never know what’s going to happen,” said Vonn, who appears on the magazine’s cover in a long, black dress with a split that shows her left leg — bandages and all.

“I have no idea what my life will be like in two years or three years or four years. I could have two kids by then. I could have no kids and want to race again. I could live in Europe. I could be doing anything.”

She added: “It’s hard to tell with this injury. It’s so [messed] up.”

Vonn, who returned to racing in late 2024 after nearly six years away from the sport, had two victories and three other podium finishes in her five World Cup races during the most recent season. In December, Vonn announced she would be competing in her “5th and final Olympics!”

“I wanted to win the Olympics, and I wanted to win the downhill title, and I was on track to do both of those things,” Vonn told Vanity Fair.

On Jan. 30, Vonn suffered a complete rupture of the anterior cruciate ligament in her left knee, with meniscus and bone damage, when she crashed during a downhill race in Crans-Montana, Switzerland.

She decided to compete at the Olympics anyway and had a couple of successful training runs leading up to the Feb. 8 downhill competition.

“I was in the exact mental state that I wanted to be in,” Vonn said. “I was ready to go.”

Unfortunately, her race didn’t last long. Vonn lost control on the first jump, spun sideways in the air, slammed to the ground and needed to be airlifted from the course. Vonn and other skiing experts have said that the ruptured ACL likely had nothing to do with her crash at the Olympics.

Vonn suffered a complex tibia fracture and other major damage. It contributed to a condition called compartment syndrome, which involves excessive pressure building up inside a muscle and possibly can lead to permanent injury or amputation.

Five surgeries later, Vonn is on the road to recovery. She has posted several photos and videos on Instagram as she amps up her fitness routine again. In a March 15 post on X, Vonn wrote that she’s not ready to discuss her skiing future.

“My focus has been on recovering from my injury and getting back to normal life,” she wrote, adding, “I’ll let you know when I decide.”

Vonn did tell Vanity Fair that she’s not crazy about the idea of the catastrophe at the Winter Games being the public’s last impression of her as a skier.

“I don’t want people to hang on this crash and be remembered for that. What I did before the Olympics has never been done before. I was number one in the standings. No one remembers that I was winning.”

Call them the Geek Squad, the Surfer Dudes or the Genius Squad from Redondo Union High.

In an unprecedented achievement, three starters for the Sea Hawks’ 13-2 volleyball team — Tommy Spalding, Vaughan Flaherty and Carter Mirabal — are headed to MIT this fall.

Their final assignment in Advanced Placement Physics 2 should be figuring out the astronomical odds of how three best friends from the same volleyball team could be admitted to one of the most prestigious universities in the world.

“There’s no way,” was the reaction of Mirabal’s father when he heard the news.

“It’s crazy,” coach Kevin Norman said.

Steve Jobs and Steve Wozniak founded Apple hanging out in a garage. Who knows what inventions, ideas or technological feats will be imagined in gyms or on surfboards as these three Southern California teenagers unleash their brain power and love for having fun on the East Coast.

“Probably twice a week, I’ll call him, ‘Yo, I have this idea,’” Spalding said of his conversations with Mirabal. “Ninety-nine percent of the time, we usually don’t do anything about it. But it’s throwing ideas out there and hopefully one is going to stick.”

One Spalding idea: “When I was driving home from Joshua Tree, I was stuck in traffic. I was like, ‘Dude, what if we made a Google Maps type of app that utilized AI and had a camera in your car that analyzed the road, tells you what lane to be in to go the fastest and also be able to look at the traffic lights and tell you if this left arrow is red, then go straight, turn left at the next street.”

Elon Musk, beware.

MIT-bound Redondo Union volleyball players Tommy Spalding, left, Vaughan Flaherty and Carter Mirabal.

(Eric Sondheimer / Los Angeles Times)

They’ve formed a band, “Ratiohead,” a parody of the English rock band Radiohead, with lyrics from math. They’re preparing for the battle of the bands. Spalding is the vocalist, Maribal is on keyboard and Flaherty, the 6-foot-5 redhead, plays guitar.

“We’re looking for a drummer,” Spalding said.

Spalding has a 4.65 GPA and 1490 SAT score. Flaherty is at 4.4 and 1560. Mirabal is at 4.4 and 1510. Spalding said his hardest class was AP European history. Mirabal chose honors chemistry. Each received one B in four years of high school. Flaherty has received multiple Bs and said, “I think it goes to show you that you don’t have to be perfect to get into these schools if you have the potential and you’re willing to work hard and be a good fit.”

Flaherty is so witty he might be able to do a comedy routine, with Spalding serving as his wing man.

“Someone might have messed up, but I’m not going to tell them,” Flaherty said of the threesome earning a spot in the MIT class of 2030.

“Maybe it was chemistry,” Spalding quipped.

If they can make a movie, “The Social Network,” about the invention of Facebook. and a TV series, “Big Bang Theory,” about smart geeks, just wait until someone figures out the entertainment value following around this threesome.

Spalding has all the attributes of a future entrepreneur and loves tinkering with cars. He sent a two-minute video to MIT as part of his application process that showed himself and his father, Michael, turning a 2002 yellow school bus into an RV.

Mirabal has his own YouTube channel, “Carter’s Stuff Review.” He wants to be a mechanical engineer and explore the business side. Flaherty would be happy sending rockets and satellites into space while living near the beach.

All three hang out at the beach, either playing volleyball or surfing. Spalding brought his grandfather’s ping-pong table to the volleyball room at school for more fun. Cornhole is another game they play.

None set out at the beginning of high school seeking a path that leads to MIT, which accepts only about five students for every 100 applicants. “We weren’t taking the classes because we want to go to MIT,” Spalding said. “We just enjoy the subjects.”

There are smart genes in their families. Spalding’s parents are both educators, one an AP physics teacher at Peninsula High, the other a middle school vice principal. Mirabal’s father is an accountant. Flaherty’s father owns two Handel’s ice cream stores (everyone wants to hang out with Flaherty on a hot day).

Each has a story to tell about how they learned of being accepted to MIT.

Mirabal was playing volleyball in his backyard on Dec. 15 with teammates. He was going to wait until his friends left to check the email for fear of rejection. Instead, with them huddled around, he opened the email and everyone started screaming, “Yo!”

Spalding was with Mirabal and headed home to share the moment with his parents when he received a text from the MIT volleyball coach walking out the door congratulating him. “Welcome to the MIT family,” it read.

Flaherty had to wait until March 14 — Pi Day — to see if he was going to make it three for three.

He was driving home from Joshua Tree national park with his girlfriend and Tommy’s girlfriend in the car. The traffic was so bad it came to a standstill so he checked his cellphone.

“I opened it up. I saw the confetti but didn’t realize what it meant until I got a couple lines down,” he said. “The first reaction was disbelief because I thought there was no chance after these two got in.”

In fact, Flaherty said the person doing the MIT interview admitted later, “I’m not going to lie. I thought that was the killer for your application.”

They’ll be playing NCAA Division III volleyball. Mirabal and Spalding will be roommates. “Vaughan will room with someone else because he said he’d be too comfortable with us and be a bad roommate,” Spalding said.

So are they really OK leaving Southern California?

“I wouldn’t say OK with it,” Spalding said.

“It is a sacrifice,” Mirabal said.

Just know the beach will always draw them back to sunny Southern California as the three sat in the Redondo Union volleyball locker room wearing shorts, sandals and their MIT shirts.

“As much as we study, I feel at the end of the day we want to have fun,” Spalding said.

They’re not expecting to re-create “Animal House” at MIT, but let’s see what happens when three surfer dudes from the same high school in California show up with open minds and lots of ideas to explore.

I’ve seen enough. It’s time to revise our expectations about the midterms.

For more than a year now, conventional wisdom has been that Democrats would take back the House — but not the Senate — in the November midterms.

That’s because this year’s Senate map would require Democrats to win numerous seats in red states.

In fact, if you had asked me a couple of months ago, I would have told you that, yes, Democrats have a shot at the Senate, but in the same way my teenage son has a shot at someday dating Sydney Sweeney. Which is to say, technically possible but cosmically unlikely.

But recent developments (such as President Trump’s plunging approval ratings on the economy) are encouraging me to revise my thinking.

I’m not alone. Independent journalist Chris Cillizza recently observed that for the first time ever, prediction markets like Polymarket and Kalshi showed Democrats with a narrow edge.

Now, prediction markets are not scientific. Neither, for that matter, is licking your finger and holding it up to the wind — but both have outperformed political polling at various times in the last couple of years.

The difference is that in prediction markets, people are wagering actual money, which tends to sharpen the mind in ways that answering a pollster’s call during dinner does not.

Of course, you probably haven’t heard much about this revised political outlook. That’s because nobody has any incentive to shout it from the rooftops.

Democrats don’t want to inflate expectations and risk turning a solid win into a perceived disappointment. Republicans, meanwhile, are not eager to advertise that their Senate majority is wobbling like a shopping cart with a bad wheel. And we pundits, chastened by having been burned, are reluctant to get too far out over our skis.

Even Cillizza still leans Republican on balance. But if I had to bet today — and I tend to define bet as “regret later” — I’d put my chips on the Democrats. Not because it’s a sure thing, but because almost every political and economic development seems to be trending in their direction.

History helps. The “out” party in the midterms usually does well. Current events help. Policies, including the war in Iran and rising gas prices, tend to sour voters on whoever’s in charge. And candidate quality helps. Voters do occasionally notice who’s actually on the ballot, and Democrats are serving up a semi-respectable offering.

Let’s pause to appreciate what’s at stake. Control of the Senate isn’t just about who gets the nicer office furniture. It determines judicial confirmations, including the possibility that Trump could fill a fourth Supreme Court vacancy (if one opens up in 2027 or 2028).

Now, it would be irresponsible of me to just drop this idea without delving into some logistical details.

For Democrats to flip the Senate, they need to net four seats. That means defending everything they already have while winning four more. The encouraging news (if you’re rooting for the Democrats) is that there are at least eight plausible opportunities for that to happen.

In North Carolina, incumbent Gov. Roy Cooper, a Democrat, is widely expected to win. In Maine, Republican Sen. Susan Collins once again finds herself in a political knife fight — her natural habitat, though perhaps not her preferred one. She will face Maine’s current governor or a flamboyant and controversial oysterman. I’m not sure who’d be the tougher opponent.

Out in Ohio, former Sen. Sherrod Brown benefits from the rare political skill of being a Democrat who still seems at home in Ohio.

The Democrat running in Alaska is a former member of Congress (and the first Alaska Native elected to Congress). And for the open seat in Iowa, Democrats seem likely to nominate a two-time Paralympic gold medalist who represents the reddest state house seat held by a Democrat.

Then there’s Texas, the perennial Democratic mirage — always shimmering on the horizon. But this year, it might come into clear view. James Talarico has emerged for Democrats, while Republicans are stuck choosing between scandal-plagued Atty. Gen. Ken Paxton and incumbent Sen. John Cornyn — a process that currently resembles a family feud conducted with vicious attack ads.

Meanwhile, in Nebraska and Montana, Democrats aren’t even pretending to compete. Instead, they’re relying on independents who — like Sens. Bernie Sanders and Angus King — would likely caucus with them.

In Nebraska, independent Dan Osborn already proved he can make it close: He lost in 2024 — a bad year to run against a Republican. And in Montana, the sudden announced retirement of Sen. Steve Daines has created an opening that didn’t exist five minutes ago (in political time).

Let’s not get carried away. The idea that Democrats could sweep all these races is still the kind of thing you say after your third drink. But winning half of them? That’s no longer fantasy. That’s … plausible. Maybe even more likely than not.

This isn’t a safe bet. It’s not even a comfortable one. But for the first time, it’s starting to look like smart money isn’t laughing at the idea anymore — it’s quietly sliding chips across the table.

Matt K. Lewis is the author of “Filthy Rich Politicians” and “Too Dumb to Fail.”