Send us a text A house blazing with lights can make a neighborhood glow, but it can’t quiet a restless heart. We open with holiday humor and then pivot to the angels’ proclamation over Bethlehem, drawing a straight line to a frostbitten night in 1914 when British and German soldiers climbed out of the trenches and sang the same carol on no man’s land. That fragile ceasefire feels like the world’s best effort—beautiful, brief, and gone by morning. So why does peace keep slipping through our fi...
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Send us a text A house blazing with lights can make a neighborhood glow, but it can’t quiet a restless heart. We open with holiday humor and then pivot to the angels’ proclamation over Bethlehem, drawing a straight line to a frostbitten night in 1914 when British and German soldiers climbed out of the trenches and sang the same carol on no man’s land. That fragile ceasefire feels like the world’s best effort—beautiful, brief, and gone by morning. So why does peace keep slipping through our fi...
Headlines pile up, slang turns official, and our thumbs keep scrolling while our hearts feel thin. We open with the new dictionary entries—riz, adulting, dad bod, dumb phone, brain rot, doomscrolling—not as trivia but as a mirror for our pace, our habits, and our hunger for meaning. Then we pull back the camera: two-thirds of people say they’re exhausted by the news, and it’s no surprise when misinfo travels faster than truth and notifications never sleep. Once, news was an event; now it’s a ...
Weekly Wisdom with Stephen Davey
Send us a text A house blazing with lights can make a neighborhood glow, but it can’t quiet a restless heart. We open with holiday humor and then pivot to the angels’ proclamation over Bethlehem, drawing a straight line to a frostbitten night in 1914 when British and German soldiers climbed out of the trenches and sang the same carol on no man’s land. That fragile ceasefire feels like the world’s best effort—beautiful, brief, and gone by morning. So why does peace keep slipping through our fi...
