The Anti-Defamation League (ADL), a Jewish organization that defines many buzzwords, such as antisemitism and racism, recently classified the online term “goyslop” as a slur and a white supremacist conspiracy term. “Goyslop” combines the Hebrew/Yiddish word “goy,” which refers to non-Jews and Gentiles, with “slop,” meaning cheap food. It comes from the idea that Jewish elites are intentionally distributing unhealthy, highly processed food or media to weaken and control non-Jews. Goy appears several thousand times in the Talmud and introduced to the general public after it was found to be used frequently as a slur for non-Jews in the released Epstein files. The ADL contends that “goy” is an innocent word, while “goyslop” is an antisemitic derogatory term. They have gone on to say that “A slur doesn’t stop being a slur because teenagers started using it—Normalizing this kind of language is dangerous.” In another post, they said that “‘Goyslop’ is not quirky internet slang worth normalizing—@nytimes should know better than to give this language a platform. There is no excuse for the ignorance of those who use it.” However, many have pushed back against this sentiment online, arguing that “goy” is “absolutely a derogatory word,” as it was neither coined nor spread by white supremacists or anti-semites. The word derives from Hebrew and Jewish people, with some highlighting the hypocrisy of Jews being allowed to use the term, but when the goyim themselves begin to say it and claim it as their own, suddenly it is classified as a slur. Some have also equated the ADL’s logic to saying it is like members of the KKK telling black people not to say the N-word, as it was white people who invented it. The idea of preventing hatred and division between different groups of people is a positive sentiment. Even so, this situation has only caused many people to view the Jewish people as liars and hypocrites. Ultimately, if situations continue to occur, it is very plausible that the antisemitism, which the ADL is attempting to prevent, will only grow larger.
By Alexandra Miskewitz
Just days after reopening, the Lincoln Memorial Reflecting Pool became the center of national debate. President Donald Trump’s $14.2 million renovation project was designed to transform the historic landmark into a cleaner, brighter “American Flag Blue” centerpiece ahead of the nation’s 250th anniversary celebrations. Instead, visitors were greeted by a familiar sight: green algae spreading across the water. Government officials insist the issue is temporary and part of the normal startup process, but the controversy has already raised larger questions about public spending, government accountability and what Americans expect from high-profile infrastructure projects. The Lincoln Memorial Reflecting Pool renovation was not simply a cosmetic project. According to federal officials, the renovation was intended to improve water quality, modernize aging infrastructure and prepare one of the nation’s most recognizable landmarks for the United States’ 250th anniversary celebrations. Supporters argue that maintaining historic sites is an important government responsibility, particularly when those sites attract millions of visitors each year. However, the project’s $14 million price tag has prompted questions about how public money should be spent. While some Americans view the renovation as a worthwhile investment in preserving national history, others question whether such funding could have been better directed toward roads, public transportation, schools or other pressing infrastructure needs. The debate reflects a larger challenge facing policymakers. Government resources are limited, and every major project requires trade-offs. Deciding how much to spend on preserving symbolic landmarks versus addressing everyday community needs is often a matter of public opinion rather than a clear right-or-wrong answer. The controversy surrounding the Reflecting Pool raises an important question: How should governments balance investments in national symbols with investments in services and infrastructure that directly affect Americans’ daily lives? Yet debates over public policy spending are only one part of the conversation. Once taxpayer dollars have been allocated to a project, many Americans expect governments to be transparent about how money is used and whether the project achieves its intended goals. This is where questions of government accountability begin to emerge. Government accountability is often most visible when projects encounter unexpected challenges. In the case of the Lincoln Memorial Reflecting Pool, the appearance of algae shortly after the renovation’s completion led some observers to question whether the project had been properly planned and executed. While officials stated that the algae bloom was a temporary issue and part of the start-up process, the incident nevertheless fueled public scrutiny. Large public projects frequently involve multiple agencies, contractors, and oversight mechanisms, making it difficult for citizens to determine where responsibility ultimately lies. For many Americans, accountability is not simply about avoiding mistakes; it is also about public officials communicating openly about setbacks, explaining how problems will be addressed and demonstrating that taxpayer funds are being used effectively. Questions surrounding accountability naturally lead to another issue: public expectations. Even when governments provide explanations for unexpected setbacks, high-profile projects are often judged by more than technical success or failure. They are also judged by how the public perceives them. The reaction to the Lincoln Memorial Reflecting Pool highlights how Americans often judge major public projects by more than whether they are completed on time or within budget. When governments invest millions of dollars into highly visible landmarks, citizens expect results that are immediate, noticeable, and lasting. In today’s digital age, images and headlines can shape public perception long before officials have the opportunity to explain unexpected setbacks. The controversy surrounding the Reflecting Pool raises a broader question: should public projects be judged by their long-term effectiveness or by their short-term results? While some Americans may view temporary issues as an inevitable part of large-scale renovations, others see them as evidence that governments have failed to deliver on their promises. Ultimately, the debate reflects the growing expectations citizens have for projects funded with taxpayer dollars. While opinions may differ on whether the Reflecting Pool renovation was a success or a failure, the conversation it sparked extends far beyond a temporary algae bloom. The incident has become a reflection of broader debates about how the government spends public money, how public officials are held accountable and what citizens expect from projects intended to represent the nation. Whether the Lincoln Memorial Reflecting Pool remains crystal clear or faces future challenges, the controversy surrounding it serves as a reminder that public infrastructure projects are about more than construction alone. They are also about public trust. For some Americans, the renovation represents an important investment in preserving a national landmark. For others, it raises concerns about spending priorities and project oversight. Regardless of where one stands, the debate demonstrates that even a reflecting pool can become a symbol of larger questions about government, accountability, and the expectations citizens place on public institutions. Acknowledgement: The opinions expressed in this article are those of the individual author, not necessarily Our National Conversation as a whole
By Alan Jimenez
When trying to assess President Donald Trump’s foreign policy, I have spent the past decade trying not to overthink anything. His first term seemed like it was the blend of isolationism in foreign policy, protectionism in foreign trade, and nativism in our cultural attitudes that has defined American populist and nationalist movements since the Know-Nothings. In Syria in Afghanistan, he was isolationist, setting in motion two withdrawals that led to a resurgence of ISIS and the Taliban respectively. In China, he was a protectionist, starting a trade war and implementing historic tariffs. At home, he was a nativist, implementing a travel ban against countries that were almost exclusively majority Muslim. These populist positions were not just contained to his first term, however. After being re-elected in 2024, Trump’s position on major powers trying to assert dominance in their spheres of influence has been more of the same. He has been dismissive, to put it lightly, of the Russian invasion of Ukraine and he froze American arms sales to Taiwan, cutting down on Biden’s efforts to deter a Chinese invasion of the island. In short, on the world stage, Trump has seemed like a typical American populist for most of his career, and his failures were the predictable failures of populism. No need to overthink it, right? And yet, Trump’s second term has seen instances of American interventionism and hawkishness in Iran and Venezuela. Last summer, Trump ordered the bombing of Iranian military infrastructure. As for Venezuela, Trump oversaw the seizing of a Venezuelan oil tanker, the capsizing of civilian Venezuelan boats, the invasion of Caracas in order to capture the Venezuelan President, and the installment of a new interim President. Assertions of force like this cannot be called isolationism, but there was some cohesion between these actions and previous actions that seemed isolationist at face value. It was entirely possible that Trump did not want to pick too many fights with nuclear powers like China and Russia but felt perfectly entitled to pick on minor powers like Iran and Venezuela. Perhaps, instead of being fully isolationist, Trump was more concerned about foreign policy as nuclear powers exerting their influence on minor powers, or, as the Athenians put it, “what the strong do and the weak accept.” A year into his second term, that became my new theory of the president’s foreign policy. But I was wrong. Our new “Memorandum of Understanding” with Iran is certainly not an American exertion over Tehran, but an endorsement of the status quo. It does nothing to address Iran’s nuclear program or ballistic missile capacity, and it outlines a plan for $300 billion to be sent to Iran for reconstruction. The memorandum even left an avenue for Iran to keep control over the Strait of Hormuz, an avenue of which they are now taking advantage. The deal outlined that Lebanon could not be attacked, but the language was ambiguous enough that it did not clarify whether the clause referred exclusively to the United States, or to Israel as well. Israel, which was not a part of the negotiations, was bound to keep attacking Lebanon, which they did after a Hezbollah strike. In response, Iran has now retaken control over the Strait. In short, the Islamic Republic got $300 billion, permission to keep their ballistic missiles, capacity to build nuclear weapons, and control over the Strait of Hormuz. The United States got nothing. So, why did Trump’s diplomats negotiate this deal and why did Trump sign it? What theory of foreign policy could possibly motivate this memorandum? As it turns out, there is no theory. Trump, as he explicitly told the press on June 1, found the negotiations “very boring.” Then, 16 days later, we ended up with this deal. Evidently, he was too bored with these high-stakes negotiations to lobby for anything remotely useful for the United States. In my effort not to overthink Trump’s foreign policy, I overthought it by even assuming it was a policy. The United States raised the white flag in a war with Iran because the President was bored. There really is nothing more to it. And, the most disturbing part is, this kind of decision-making explains the past decade of Trump’s thinking towards foreign affairs. Did the U.S. withdraw from Syria and Afghanistan because the President got bored of the meetings in the Situation Room? Did the American trade war become global because the President got bored with targeting China? Did the President fail to even mention Taiwan in his summit with the Chinese because he got bored of those meetings too? Were the Army and CIA ordered to capture Maduro because Trump wanted a little bit of excitement? Any one of these questions could be answered affirmatively, and that, compounded with our surrender to Iran, is embarrassing for the United States. Acknowledgement: The opinions expressed in this article are those of the individual author, not necessarily Our National Conversation as a whole
By Jack Jurjans
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