The head of the U.S. agency charged with enforcing civil rights in the workplace says artificial intelligence-driven “bossware” tools that closely track the whereabouts, keystrokes and productivity of workers can also run afoul of discrimination laws

Ted Cruz was among more than 30 senators urging US Attorney General Merrick Garland to appoint Davis Weiss as special counsel to lead investigations into Hunter Biden. That was 19 September 2022. Less than a year later, on 11 August, Mr Garland announced that Mr Weiss would receive special counsel status. But the Republican senator from Texas is now calling the appointment of the same person he was urgently recommending a “wildly inappropriate” pick to lead the investigation. “This appointment is camouflage and it’s cover-up. I think it’s disgraceful,” he told Fox News on 13 August. Mr Weiss, who has served as the US Attorney for Delaware since 2018, has led federal investigations into President Joe Biden’s son since 2019. Last month, Hunter Biden was reportedly prepared to enter a plea deal following charges stemming from unpaid taxes and a federal application for a firearm. That deal appeared to fall apart, and Hunter Biden pleaded not guilty to two of the charges after a federal judge questioned whether the deal would prohibit other potential prosecutions. IRS whistleblowers speaking to Republican members of Congress who are eager to prosecute the president’s son have claimed that it was necessary that Mr Weiss be designated special counsel powers because he could not pursue prosecutions in other jurisdictions outside of Delaware, as the US attorney for that state. Whistleblowers also testified that US Department of Justice officials had prevented Mr Weiss from seeking felony tax evasion charges in California and Washington DC. Mr Cruz is now accusing Mr Weiss of either being an “active participant” in covering up “criminality” and obstructing justice by “protecting” the president, or “he was just complicit.” “He was so weak that he couldn’t stop the partisans in main justice from turning it into a political effort to protect Joe Biden,” Mr Cruz said. But in their letter to Mr Garland last year, Mr Cruz and 32 other senators said it is “important” that Mr Weiss receive special counsel status to “allow him to investigate an appropriate scope of potentially criminal conduct, avoid the appearance of impropriety, and provide additional assurances to the American people that the Hunter Biden is free from political influence.” Mr Cruz now accuses Mr Weiss of spending “the last five years covering it up”. The senator has also been requesting information from Mr Weiss this month, sending a letter with a list of questions surrounding whistleblower testimony, none of which accuse Mr Weiss of wrongdoing. The Independent has requested comment from his office. His apparent about-face follows other objections from GOP officials who had also previously called for Mr Weiss to step in as special counsel. Tennessee Senator Marsha Blackburn, another senator who signed last year’s letter, claimed that Mr Garland only appointed Mr Weiss because “he knows Weiss will protect Hunter Biden.” In her appearance on Fox News, she called Mr Weiss “a collaborator”. “The sweetheart deal that he had cooked up for Hunter Biden, now they’re going to give him a sweetheart deal with a special counsel and run out the plot,” she said. “Merrick Garland, he owes the American people better than to do something like this.” South Carolina Senator Lindsey Graham – another signatory – told NewsNation that the appointment “poured gasoline on a political fire.” He told Fox News that he believes Mr Weiss has been “compromised” after a “sweetheart” plea deal fell apart. And Iowa Senator Chuck Grassley – who acknowledged signing the letter during an appearance on Fox News – said that Mr Weiss has “pulled punches” and “didn’t investigate as he should’ve.” Read More Matt Gaetz suggests he wants to be America’s next attorney general: ‘A boy can dream’ Trump and Hunter Biden legal blockbusters rock Washington – but offer a contrast House Democrats call for investigation into Clarence Thomas over corruption claims Georgia prosecutors have text messages linking Trump team to voting system breach, report says

Myanmar’s military government extended the state of emergency for another six months until January 31, dashing hopes that

It’s difficult to upstage all the abs, genitalia, and underwear featured in Minx, the sultry-humorous series that tells the story of a fictional porn magazine for women in the ‘70s. But the show, now in its second season on Starz, manages to do just that — with pantsuits that are too good to pass up. And it’s all thanks to costume designer Marie Schley.

BYU will make its Big 12 debut on Saturday when it heads to Kansas for a matchup of teams off to 3-0 starts

WATSONVILLE, Calif.--(BUSINESS WIRE)--May 17, 2023--

The UK’s shadow energy secretary has demanded the government act urgently after a report showed how Drax Group

If you’ve grown up in France, Bernard Tapie is one of those people you’ve always been aware of, without being able to remember when you first heard about them, or what they’re currently famous for. In Tapie’s case, the answer varied throughout the years: at times, he was famous for his career as a businessman; at others, for his career in the world of sports. There was also politics, show business, and legal scandals, depending on when you asked. Only one constant remained: from his rise to fame in the 1980s to his death in 2021, Tapie was notorious. A new Netflix series dramatizes 30 years of his life, charting his humble beginnings, his not-so-humble early successes, and the biggest legal controversy of his life—for fixing a soccer game in favour of Olympique de Marseille, Marseille’s soccer team, which he then owned. In France, the show is simply called Tapie—a name known to virtually anyone. In the US, it’s titled Class Act, an apparent wordplay to nod both to Tapie’s exceptional destiny and to his status as what sociologist Pierre Bourdieu called a “transfuge de classe”—someone who moves from one social milieu to another. The show, comprising seven episodes, is a fascinating examination not just of the man himself, but of the country that allowed his ascent. It casts an eye back on the lionized men of the 1980s and asks: at what cost did we create them? And what are we meant to do with them now? “In the same way that there was Trump in the US, Berlusconi in Italy, there was Tapie in France,” Tristan Séguéla, who directed and co-wrote the series, tells The Independent in a video call. “The 1980s had a strong mythology around these characters who could embody everything, and who were very rich, very famous, and very powerful all at once.” Bernard Tapie was born in 1943 in Paris. His father was a laborer, his mother a nurse’s aide. He first sought fame as a performer, then in business. In the 1960s, he won a televised singing contest under the name Bernard Tapy—a much more American-seeming spelling of his last name. But that success was short-lived, and Tapie soon transitioned to selling televisions for a living. In the late 1970s and through the 1980s, he became known for purchasing companies on the verge of bankruptcy and reselling them for considerable profit. In the 1990s, he entered politics, as a member of President François Mitterrand’s government and as a Congressman. That same decade, he bought and sold the athletic apparel brand Adidas. The 1990s also saw Tapie’s biggest legal controversy: in 1995, Tapie was sentenced to eight months in prison for bribing members of the opposite team to ensure Marseille’s victory in a final match against Valenciennes. (Tapie had become the president of the Marseille team in 1986.) All of those events are depicted in Tapie. In real life, the story goes on, with more legal troubles (Tapie was sentenced to six months in prison for tax fraud in 1996) and more reinventions. To go through Tapie’s biography is to go through the story of a man who never retreated into anonymity and never stopped believing that the system would, in one way or another, bail him out. In the late 1990s and 2000s, he turned to acting and TV host gigs. In the 2010s, he became the owner of a media company. Tapie was diagnosed with stomach and esophagus cancer in 2017. He died of the disease in October 2021, aged 78. The actor Laurent Lafitte, who brilliantly portrays Tapie in the Netflix series and developed it with Séguéla, has spent time pondering Tapie’s story and what it represents. Tapie, he says in a phone call, was “a kid from the suburbs” raised in part by a Communist father. He views Tapie in that way in opposition to Trump, who long claimed to have received a “small” $1m loan from his father, “as if that were $10”, Lafitte says. Not only that, but that number is substantially false; Fred Trump’s financial support of his sum extended far beyond that sum. Tapie “did not have the same starting point as Trump at all”, Lafitte says, which, in his view, renders Tapie’s boundless ambition more palatable. But he is clear about Tapie’s “ultra liberalism”, and the way capitalism enabled his ascent: Tapie “bought failing companies and brought them back to financial health without concerning himself for the employees’ social wellbeing,” he says. Back in the 1980s, Tapie’s open ambition was considered “novel in France, where we have a rather discreet, reserved rapport with success, and especially with money.” In Tapie, Lafitte says, “we had someone who brandished material success as an absolute accomplishment.” The French language sometimes borrows words from English wholesale, not bothering to come up with a translation. “Fun”, for example, does not have a French equivalent. French people simply say “fun” with a French accent and carry on as usual. “Weekend” is another example. The words used to describe Tapie at various points in his career, Lafitte points out, do not have equivalents in French—there is no French word for “tycoon”, “self-made man”, or even “success story” (if one chooses to see Tapie that way). “These are English words that represent a kind of ultra liberal success that wouldn’t have been shocking for Americans, nor perhaps for some British people, back in the days,” Lafitte says. “But in France, it was really new.” Each episode of Tapie, the series, opens with a disclaimer that states the show is “inspired by real facts”, namely the big parts of Tapie’s life that were already known to the public. The show then takes liberties, imagining various scenes, giving viewers an interpretation of Tapie’s life rather than a date-by-date account. “Fiction worked [in the show] in the service of reality,” says screenwrite Olivier Demangel in a video call. He cites the German philosopher Theodor W Adorno, who, in reference to the works of Honoré de Balzac, wrote about “realism by way of losing reality.” “To me, that’s exactly it,” Demangel says. “[Adorno] was talking about Balzac, but we’ve always thought that Tapie had something of a Balzac character.” Not that the show is entirely disconnected from reality. To research the show, the team read around 40 books, Demangel says, and dug into television archives. “We really worked on the idea that Tapie was kind of the embodiment of television,” Demangel says. “Like a TV salesman who wanted to get inside the machine, and who sort of became television. We realized that he went through every television format, and that he had his downfall at the same time the world moved on to the internet. It’s as though the internet killed the world and Tapie.” Séguéla brought another real-world perspective: his father, Jacques Séguéla, was a prominent French publicist, and a friend of Tapie’s. The younger Séguéla has childhood memories of Tapie spending part of his vacations at the Séguélas’ house. “I remember someone who attracted attention,” he says. “And [Tapie] had one quality—I think it’s the same way with the friends of everyone’s parents: There are those who pay attention to kids, and those who don’t notice them. [Tapie] treated everyone equally, adults and children. I liked that, especially since he was already a media monster by the time he came by. I’d see him on TV, and then I’d see him make paella for everyone. And sometimes, we’d quarrel, too. He would argue with me about a bit of the Tour de France, or soccer teams. I liked that too.” Despite this personal connection, Tapie, before his death, had voiced his opposition to the series. More recently, his family voiced their objections, too. But that was never a problem for Séguéla, nor Lafitte, nor Demangel. They were determined to write the show, and they didn’t particularly want Tapie or his relatives to contribute to the writing. Years ago, Séguéla made it clear to Tapie that he wasn’t seeking his permission to go ahead, Tapie “left him alone” and let him work in peace, Séguéla says. “It would have annoyed me if he’d felt hurt by the show, if he’d found it insulting or defamatory,” Lafitte says. “But I was comforted by the fact that our work was mainly impartial.” Despite the differences between Trump and Tapie, the team too had Trump on the mind while crafting the show. “I would even say that Tapie must have had Trump on his mind during his own rise to fame,” Séguéla says. Tapie, Séguéla points out, published a nonfiction book called Gagner (“to win”), a cross between a memoir and a book of business tips. Tapie’s book came out in 1986. Trump’s own book, The Art of the Deal, came out in 1987—three years after Trump appeared on the cover of GQ. The 1984 cover story was titled: “Success: How Sweet It Is. Men Who Take Risks and Make Millions.” Now, Lafitte struggles to imagine France’s other wealthy men, such as businessmen François-Henri Pinault or Bernard Arnault sing on TV or host a show—both things Tapie did. Still, Tapie’s story as told in the Netflix series seems inseparable from France itself. In Tapie’s tale, Lafitte sees “all the contradictions” of the country’s attitudes to success. “In France, we always tend to be wary of people who succeed materially,” he says. “[Tapie’s story] is the story of a time when the line became a bit more blurry, between [the traditional French mindset] and a more American mindset. He understood that very quickly.” Read More Like Harry, they wrote brutally honest memoirs about their families. What happened next? From Harry Styles to Emma Roberts: How celebrity readers became the book influencers we didn’t know we needed Slim Aarons started out photographing war – but his greatest assignment was in the trenches of fashion Hurricane Nigel expected to ‘rapidly intensify’ by Tuesday - latest Trump says he doesn’t worry about jail risk as he refuses to rule out self-pardon Front door of home where Sharon Tate was murdered sells for $127k

Travis Kelce's dad Ed Kelce called Taylor Swift 'grounded' and said 'they're very supportive'

Bad Bunny has heard a song that's gone viral on TikTok which uses artificial intelligence (AI) to copy his voice, and the rapper isn't too happy about it. The Puerto Rican artist took to his WhatsApp channel to berate fans who have listened to the track which also uses AI vocals from Justin Bieber and Daddy Yankee. 'If you like that s***ty song that's viral on TikTok, get out of this group right now,' Bad Bunny wrote in Spanish, as per Daily Mail. 'I don't want them on the tour either.' In the post to his 19m followers, he added: 'You don't deserve to be my friends and that's why I made the new album, to get rid of people like that. So choo-choo out.' FlowGPT (Justin Bieber, Bad Bunny, Daddy Yankee type) - DEMO 5: nostalgIA (Spanglish Version) www.youtube.com The AI song called 'nostalgIA' was created by FlowGPT, an AI tool that functions similarly to ChatGPT and the track was uploaded under the username flowgptmusic. Bad Bunny - whose real name is Benito Antonio Martínez Ocasio - isn't the first musician to criticise AI replicating their voices on songs. Earlier this year, a song that used AI vocals of Drake and The Weeknd called 'Heart On My Sleeve,' was written and produced by TikTok user ghostwriter977. The track was later removed from Spotify, Apple Music and Deezer. “This is the final straw AI," Drake said in response to an AI-generated cover of him rapping 'Munch' by Ice Spice. How to join the indy100's free WhatsApp channel Sign up to our free Indy100 weekly newsletter Have your say in our news democracy. Click the upvote icon at the top of the page to help raise this article through the indy100 rankings.

Could the Atlanta Braves trade Marcell Ozuna this offseason? If Alex Anthopoulos is looking for assets, Ozuna could be a surprising one.

Barcelona coach Xavi Hernandez says Tuesday's Champions League match at home to FC Porto could be a potential "turning point" for his side as they look to clinch...