During World War 2, President Franklin Delano Roosevelt ordered all Japanese Americans into internment camps in order to dissuade the fears of paranoid Americans that Japanese citizens would feel sympathetic towards the Japanese Empire and undermine U.S. war efforts. In 1944, the now infamous Korematsu v. U.S. decision was announced by the Supreme Court. It upheld the interment of Japanese citizens as security precaution, a sort of pseudo-variation of the “clear and present danger” test established in Schenck v. U.S. that helped to regulate free speech cases. The decision was appalling, and it is looked down upon as one of the most disgraceful acts committed by the U.S. Many have thought that the days of locking up people in crowded camps were down. They were wrong.
To some outside Fordham, Dr. Greer’s soundbite might sound flippant, and both she and the Fordham political science department have since apologized. But a single slip of the tongue doesn’t reflect how much she cares about students.
Like most sequels, Sicario: Day of the Soldado expands the original’s scope and is also not as good as the original. The sequel no longer has Emily Blunt as its lead, nor does it have Denis Villeneuve as its director, each loss to the detriment of the film. In the sequel, Benicio del Toro and Josh Brolin reprise their roles and make an effective and entertaining duo, but without Blunt there is something missing. Her character was the first film’s moral compass, knowing right from wrong and caring about the distinction. Brolin and del Toro’s characters don’t have a similar sense of morality, or at least not ones that align with legality.
Imagine you’re a refugee, or an immigrant, living in the United States. You work hard every day, delivering food so that you can make enough money to provide for your family, something I think most Americans can relate to. One day, you get a call to deliver food to a place you’ve gone to many times before. When you arrive however, they ask to see I.D. You can’t provide what they are asking for , you’re arrested.
Nightmares, not dreams, is his motto
Looby attempts to be serious for once in his life.
That awkward moment when government checks and balances work.