Battling a lack of funding and political apathy, Marawi, Mosul and Kobani are trying to build modern cities from rubble. 

Filipino architect Felino “Jun” Palafox studied design at Harvard University in the years just after 9/11, when disaster planning was on everyone’s mind. Now, Jun wants to bring those lessons from the aftermath of terrorism in Manhattan to Marawi, the city in his native Philippines that suffered a months-long conflict between Islamic State–aligned fighters and Filipino armed forces that ended in late 2017. He doesn’t just want to rebuild what was destroyed. “Smarter, more sustainable, more environmentally friendly, more walkable, more bikeable,” Jun says, rattling off the possibilities he dreams of for a future Marawi.

Jun’s not alone. Nor is Marawi. Months — and, in some cases, years — of sieges and conflict with ISIS have left large urban centers from the Middle East to Southeast Asia in ruin. What’s left of Marawi, for instance, is street after street of perforated concrete, delicate as the latticed patterns of Islamic architecture. Now retaken from ISIS, many of these cities are witnessing the first sparks of reconstruction. And in city after city, residents, observers, international agencies and designers are trying to battle short-sighted planning and create new urban spaces that not only address humanitarian concerns but also protect landmarks, help battle future radicalism and facilitate economic development.

Everyone in the U.K. has an opinion, but what parliament decides this week could impact European relations for decades.

Former CIA deputy director John McLaughlin spent several days in London last week, which afforded him a close look at the debate over Brexit — the decision made by voters in a 2016 referendum to end the United Kingdom’s membership in the European Union (EU). What quickly became obvious is how Brexit is as divisive an issue as anything in American politics, that Brits are sick of it and that no one has an exit plan with widespread support. Parliament votes tomorrow on Prime Minister Theresa May’s plan, and McLaughlin is convinced that what Britain decides will affect political dynamics not just in London but on the European continent as well.

With Britain out, Germany — even in transition — would be the powerhouse in Europe. To a degree, it always has been, but never so nakedly as would be the case with a weakened France, wobbly members elsewhere, and an absent Britain. Europe has not had to deal with that particular configuration of power since the late 1950s. For the first time in the decades that McLaughlin has followed the evolution of Europe’s unification movement, he thinks there is real cause for concern about the health of what visionaries have always called the “European Project.”

If you’re in L.A. with a gun in your mouth and it’s too rainy to pull the trigger? Start a soap biz, natch! If you’re combat vet Max Moore? Double natch!

The phone rang in the midst of an age where the phone ringing is strange, but we all still have those friends who call when they could write, and so there it was: an art dealer pal from L.A.

“There’s this guy you should really meet.”

It was Marcy, and Marcy’s always had a nose for news, compelling and otherwise. “He’s Jewish! And he’s Black! And he’s a combat vet who is into punk rock and that fighting thing you like! And he should talk to you. I think you could help him. His name is Max Moore.”