Weekend Reads (June 21): “Jaws,” Northern Soul, Trump’s Bible, the Taliban vs. Chess
Recommended weekend reading material for June 21, 2025.
Every week, I compile a list of articles in order to give subscribers like you something interesting and thought-provoking to read over the weekend.
This year marks of the 50th anniversary of Steven Spielberg’s Jaws, arguably the first summer blockbuster. But even after all these years, writes Jake Coyle, the film still offers some lessons for today’s blockbusters.
Few films have been more perfectly suited to their time and place than Jaws, which half a century ago unspooled across the country in a then-novel wide release accompanied by Universal Pictures’ opening-weekend publicity blitz. Jaws wasn’t quite the first movie to try to gobble up moviegoers whole, in one mouthful (a few years earlier, The Godfather more or less tried it), but Jaws established — and still in many ways defines — the summer movie.
That puts Jaws at the birth of a trend that has since consumed Hollywood: the blockbuster era. When it launched in 409 theaters on June 20, 1975, and grossed a then-record $7.9 million in its first days, Jaws set the template that’s been followed ever-after by every action movie, superhero flick or dinosaur film that’s tried to go big in the summer — a sleepy time in theaters before Jaws came around.
Back in the early ’70s, music lovers in northern England embraced unknown American soul artists, resulting in the “Northern Soul” music and dance movement. 50 years later, the movement’s enjoying a modern revival. Bandcamp explores the history of Northern Soul as well as the music that still inspires it.
The name of the genre was coined by journalist Dave Godin when he noticed young people from the North of England scouring the racks of the Soul City record shop he ran in London. These were largely unsuccessful uptempo soul records that had been pressed in limited numbers of 500–1,000. “New rules had been set, obscure Black American labels from the ’60s became the holy grail,” wrote Stuart Cosgrove in his essential book, Young Soul Rebels: A Personal History of Northern Soul. American soul singers like Major Lance, Sandi Sheldon, and Lou Johnson had suddenly gained a fanatical teenaged following thousands of miles away from home.
Guitarist Giacomo Turra amassed hundreds of thousands of followers and several endorsements thanks to his slick-looking videos of impressive shredding. As it turns out, however, he was stealing from his fellow guitarists.
One of Turra’s singles as a recording artist — not just an Instagram post — seemed to be based on a jam someone else had posted to YouTube. People began to wonder aloud if Turra was really even playing what you hear in his videos, or just miming along to heavily cleaned up pre-recorded audio. Anthony Fantano made a video about it, as did the mega-popular musician-centric YouTuber Rick Beato, who said that he’d invited Turra to record a collaborative video at his studio but elected not to upload it when it became clear that the guitarist wasn’t playing up to the virtuosic level advertised by his Instagram clips.
My friend Cameron pays tribute to the late, great Brian Wilson.
To say Brian Wilson wasn’t your typical rockstar is an understatement. He didn’t have the Pre-Raphaelite locks of a Robert Plant or the sinister dynamism of a Jim Morrison. Heck, he didn’t even have the wholesome appeal of a Richard Carpenter. What he had was a thick mop of dark hair, a pudgy face, and dreaming eyes that would take on a scared rabbit look as the years wore on. A composer who happened to turn out glorious pop tunes, he was happiest giving shape to the wonderful stuff that filled that big head of his.
Disclaimer: I edited this article for Christ and Pop Culture.
For almost a decade now, Thomas Sieberhagen, Brewer Eberly, and Josh Weir have exchanged 25-song playlists with each other every January.
The playlists follow the moods of our lives, and in some sense reflect back to us painful moments over prior years. They therefore do not “manage” our moods; they mirror them. We are trying to pluck an imperative from Ephesians 5: “Instead, be filled with the Spirit, speaking to one another with psalms, hymns, and songs from the Spirit. Sing and make music from your heart to the Lord.” These playlists are, at their best, the three of us speaking to one another from our hearts to the Lord and to each other. There is a particular delight and comfort when a song appears on all three of our playlists without prior discussion. It’s as if the state lines (and, in one case, ocean) that separate us disappear in that moment.
Last year, Donald Trump earned $1.3 million from his endorsement of the God Bless the USA Bible.
The God Bless the USA Bible uses the King James Version and is published with a copy of the chorus of “God Bless the USA,” handwritten by country singer Lee Greenwood: “I’m proud to be an American, where at least I know I’m free. / And I won’t forget the men who died, who gave that right to me.” It also includes the US Constitution, the Bill of Rights, the Declaration of Independence, and the Pledge of Allegiance.
The Bible sells for $59.99. Editions endorsed by Trump, including the Inauguration Day Edition, the Presidential Edition, and the Golden Age Edition, sell for $99.99.
You can also buy a “Signature” edition autographed by Trump for $1,000.00. Nothing wrong with that, right?
Related: Watch Tim Wildsmith’s review of the God Bless the USA Bible. “I personally don’t like what this Bible is all about… As a person of faith, I do not think that things like the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence should be put into the Bible.”
Also related: Last month, as the cardinals are meeting to elect a new Bishop of Rome following Pope Francis’ death, Trump shared an AI-generated image of himself as the pope. “When our nation’s leader promotes himself as a revered religious figure or golden idol, that should concern anyone who claims to follow Christ. (Not to mention anyone who cares about the separation of church and state.)”
Donald Trump has dabbled in a lot of things — Bibles, bottled water, steaks, vodka, supermodels, and an airline — and now he’s launched a Trump-branded mobile network with its very own phone (gold-colored, of course). However, the new service and phone raise some red flags.
Trump Mobile’s 47 Plan comes with other perks that could justify the price jump, including telehealth sessions provided by Doctegrity, which normally costs $29 a month, and roadside assistance through Drive America (though it isn’t clear what types of services are covered or if there are limits on the amount you can spend). The 47 Plan even includes “device protection,” which would be great if it weren’t for the fine print saying that “device protection is not insurance.” So could Trump Mobile be a good deal? If I ignore all the vagueness that surrounds the 47 Plan, then maybe. But there are too many unknowns for me to recommend. Like how much is an additional line? Does the 47 Plan include hotspot data? Is there an autopay discount? Do I get streaming service perks like other carriers? Are there discounts for seniors? We reached out to Trump Mobile for clarification.
Related: Although Trump has demanded that Apple start building iPhones here in America rather than China, it’s a pretty safe bet that Trump’s phone was built overseas. “Several tech industry insiders questioned whether selling a made-in-America phone is even possible within just a few months, considering most electronics manufacturing is done overseas because of expensive domestic labor, a shortage of skilled workers, and a lack of suppliers.”
Also related: Shortly after its launch, the Trump Mobile website had to take down a network coverage map that featured the Gulf of Mexico. “Mocked with screenshots, the Trump Organization yanked the coverage map within hours of launching the site, breaking links and generating errors on Tuesday, confirming that ‘the page could not be found.’”
This is a good word from O. Alan Noble concerning Trump and the increasing tensions with Iran.
[T]his means not anticipating and looking for and jumping on all evidence of blunders as soon as you can find them to vindicate your assumption that the president is not qualified to handle this situation. Maybe he is, maybe he isn’t. But what matters is this: what do you hope? Do you hope that he screws up and people die and you’re political perspective is vindicated and you can post about it online? Or do you hope that he does the right thing, maybe against the odds, and lives are saved and you have to find something else to post about online? I’ve been on Twitter long enough to know that there are plenty of people who fall into the first camp. And lots of them have large platforms. The algorithm encourages it.
This reminds me of something that C. S. Lewis wrote in Mere Christianity:
Suppose one reads a story of filthy atrocities in the paper. Then suppose that something turns up suggesting that the story might not be quite true, or not quite so bad as it was made out. Is one’s first feeling, “Thank God, even they aren’t quite so bad as that,” or is it a feeling of disappointment, and even a determination to cling to the first story for the sheer pleasure of thinking your enemies are as bad as possible? If it is the second then it is, I am afraid, the first step in a process which, if followed to the end, will make us into devils. You see, one is beginning to wish that black was a little blacker. If we give that wish its head, later on we shall wish to see grey as black, and then to see white itself as black. Finally we shall insist on seeing everything — God and our friends and ourselves included — as bad, and not be able to stop doing it: we shall be fixed for ever in a universe of pure hatred.
I’ve written quite a bit that’s deeply critical of Trump’s politics and character, but I do try and resist the temptation to hope that Trump screws up simply so that I can be proven right; that’s just arrogance and self-righteousness. I need to pray for Trump at least as much I criticize him, and even more than that.
The Taliban has banned a lot of things in Afghanistan, but one of their oddest targets is the age-old game of chess.
The Taliban suspended chess — during its first iteration of rule, and now, because it’s “a means of gambling,” the sports minister Atal Mashwani told the French news service, AFP. “There are religious considerations regarding the sport of chess,” he added, without elaborating what those considerations were. He added: “Until these considerations are addressed, the sport of chess is suspended in Afghanistan.”
But the president of the now disbanded Afghanistan Chess Federation says he believes the suspension is permanent. “The Taliban, when they decide, are firm in their decision,” said Ghulam Ali Malikzad, who spoke from Germany, where he sought asylum after the Taliban seized power. “There is no hope that it will be reopened.”
Iraq’s national pastime is a bluffing game called mheibes that puts even poker experts to shame.
The great U.S. contribution to bluffing games, of course, is poker, now a global industry worth approximately $100 billion. I covered poker for about a decade, and I’ve met some of the game’s virtuosos in the art of spotting tells. Even so, when I first learned about mheibes, and started poring over the match videos posted on YouTube and Facebook, I was awestruck by the captains’ skill. A poker player might need to study eight other people at their table. A mheibes captain takes stock of perhaps 45 distinct opponents — or, really, 90 different fists. Mheibes captains do not succeed at this task every time. But I came to understand that top players spot the ring with shocking regularity.
Via 1440.
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