Hackers ‘fool’ iPhone X Face ID with a mask

Cybersecurity researchers have claimed they can fool the iPhone X’s Face ID feature with a simple mask.
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Skin Deep: Salma Hayek Isn’t Trying to Fool Anyone

Why she doesn’t color her hair or follow a strict diet. And: her favorite D.I.Y. face cleanser.
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Daniel Acts a Fool at Ashlee's Pool Party

Nobody is partying harder than Daniel and that's not a good thing. See the moment on "What Happens at The Abbey."
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Five ways fraudsters could make a fool of you

In days gone by, scam emails had a certain pure nobility – perhaps because those sending them were all, coincidentally, Nigerian princes.
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The Motley Fool Investment Workbook

The Motley Fool Investment Workbook


Drawing on lessons learned in the past few turbulent years, the revised “Motley Fool Investment Workbook” shows how The Motley Fool’s popular investment strategies continue to help regular people beat Wall Street’s best money managers – in good times and in bad. Updated to reflect today’s whipsaw economy, you will learn how to evaluate a company’s financial performance, which mutual funds make sense, and where to find havens for your retirement savings. Demonstrating how to value companies in a roller-coaster era – and providing more useful work sheets and space for tracking goals than ever before – this new edition gives you all the information and calculations you need to make smart investment moves now, including how to: Figure out how much money you have to invest Devise a sensible – and profitable – investment strategy Select winning stocks Purchase stocks in the cheapest and fastest way possible Protect your investments and learn when – if ever – to let them go Brimming with worksheets, charts, and real-world examples – all wrapped up by The Fool’s trademark sense of humor – “The Motley Fool Investment Workbook” will help you take control of your own financial destiny one step – and one dollar – at a time.

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Fiction: T. C. Boyle Reviews Richard Russo’s ‘Everybody’s Fool’

The sequel to “Nobody’s Fool” takes readers back to a small town and its outsize personalities.
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‘Fool for Love’: Falling Short

A tumultuous relationship sits before us in Sam Shepard’s Fool for Love. From the outset, you don’t know what’s in store for May (Nina Arianda) and Eddie (Sam Rockwell), who seem to love each other at times, but want to wring each other’s necks at other times. In many plays, this kind of tension and uncertainty can lead to a strong resolution. But this go-around, there’s explosiveness without the substance to justify it or reconsider at a greater length.

The lead actors do their parts, and director Daniel Aukin jams as much as he can into the 75-minute play. The script is the main problem — so many ups and downs, backs and forths, without a path forward.

Inside a sleazy motel room in the Mojave Desert, the stage is set with the heat turned way up. Intrigue and curiosity sits beside them on the stage, in the form of an old man, played by Gordon Joseph Weiss. He has several asides with the two lead characters. As more information and background details become available, the narrative is intended to lead to opinions changing and the focus moving. However, by the time these developments emerge, the audience will feel so restless they might no longer possess the capacity to change their feelings. A certain numbness sets in midway through the show once you accept that we’ll never see the outside of this cramped hotel room.

Some of the themes of the play stand out as striking and controversial. However, at that point, unfortunately, you can’t go back.

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First Nighter: Robert O’Hara’s “Barbecue” Sizzles a Bit, Sam Shepard’s “Fool for Love” is Catnip for Actors

The first act of Robert (Bootycandy) O’Hara’s Barbecue consists of four scenes, two each in alternation, depicting a lower-class white family and a lower-class black family on what looks like a picnic in a shady Middle America forest preserve.

Curiously, the five members of both families, on vivid display at the Public, share the same names–James T. (Mark Damon Johnson, Paul Niebanck), Lillie Anne (Becky Ann Baker, Kim Wayans), Marie (Arden Myrin, Heather Alicia Simms), Adlean (Constance Shulman, Benja Kay Thomas) and Barbara (Tamberla Perry, Samantha Soule).

As the act progresses and no actual barbecuing happens, it’s revealed that in each family unit James T., Lillie Anne, Marie and Adlean aren’t present simply to scream and shout at each other over long-brewing resentments. They’ve planned this outing as an intervention. Prone to drinking and drugging as they are–Lillie Anne more or less excepted–they’re worried about sibling Barbara, whose substance abuse apparently outdoes theirs by a country mile.

Since the actions of both groups virtually mirror each others’ and the term “bad behavior” only begins to describe how they engage intramurally (though more verbally than physically), the point playwright O’Hara’s looks to be establishing is that white trash and black trash are equally trashy.

And while some of the tactics they use to bait each other are occasionally amusing, there’s a whiff of superiority about his intentions. There’s the sense that O’Hara is sending a middle-class audience the snootily comforting “aren’t the less privileged just awful?” message. Not too accepting of him, is it? The poor(er) may always be with us, but that’s no excuse to denigrate them as relentlessly as O’Hara does almost to the act’s end when the two Barbaras, the supposed interventions, finally arrive.

But then the cunning dramatist pulls a fast one. Having led the patrons through four scenes that have more than started to try patience, he shifts gears in as radical a manner as any sleight-of-hand playwright has in recent, and even not so recent, memory.

As a result and because of the Barbecue structure, just about any further description of the action–and that means the entire second act–would turn into a monumental spoiler. Perhaps it’s acceptable to indulge a quasi-spoiler and report that for much of the comedy’s remainder the two Barbaras, who heretofore have said just about zilch, take focus. One of them begins to resemble an actual celebrity along the lines of Whitney Houston and one of them, a memoirist, feels partially derived from James Frey’s notorious account of his life as an addict.

In other words, O’Hara’s seeming satire of a stratum of American society morphs into a satire of a completely different stripe. He’s sending up commercial cynicism as manifested in contemporary America life. Okay, maybe it’s also fair to say he makes an implied larger point by focusing narrowly on publishing and Hollywood. In his wily way, he even gets around to an Oscar race.

While he’s at it, he’s created 10 juicy parts for his cast to play under Kent Gash’s colorful direction and in Paul Tazewell’s often hilarious costumes that take into account the attraction women often have to leopard spots. Perry’s Barbara is at first super-confident, as the script has it, but begins to crumble, where Soule’s Barbara, who’s initially slightly intimidated by those second-act circumstances, gains her footing with aplomb. The others grab hold of their exuberant roles as if they were caged lions thrown thick steaks.

Whether the elongated nature of the first act is compensated for by the second act–which surely depends on falling for the second-act development–is up in the air. But O’Hara can be thanked for taking the risk as well as for much of the furious humor he unleashes.
******************
Since Sam Shepard’s 1983 Fool for Love didn’t appeal to me then and not in subsequent productions I’ve seen, I wondered whether this latest one, at Manhattan Theatre Club’s Samuel J. Friedman, would finally change my mind. Though when the lights went up on it, I was impressed by Dane Leffrey’s claustrophobic representation of a motel room on the edge of the Mohave Desert, nothing that ensued changed my ho-hum attitude towards the script.

Anyone who knows Shepard’s plays knows he’s impelled to assess the barren quality of American culture through depictions of the spiritually depleted American West. Fool for Love is no exception. (Mohave Desert = emotionally arid–get it?)

Eddie (Sam Rockwell) and May (Nina Arianda) are battling out their unspecified relationship alone, although sitting immobile in a chair just aside from the sterile motel accommodation is The Old Man (Gordon David Weiss.) The assumption is that the two are lovers, perhaps attempting to overcome an estrangement–or perhaps not.

For the longest time in the 75-minute one-act, The Old Man says nothing. Eventually, he addresses either Eddie or May, while whoever else is in the room hears nothing of what’s exchanged. Eventually roped into the fray is sincere gentleman caller Martin (Tom Pelphrey), who doesn’t quite know how to play the quivering vibes.

As those 75 minutes tick by, the connections between Eddie, May and The Old Man become clear. That’s to say they become clearer, although many patrons may well be left figuratively trudging through the Mohave sand, trying to catch up with what’s transpiring–and that includes an explosive before-fade-out occurrence that lighting designer Justin Townsend executes well. Sound designer Ryan Rumery also has a few ear-catching turns.

For patrons the effort put into making sense of events may not be worth it. What does go a fair stretch towards rendering the expended efforts rewarding are the performances. At first glimpsed sitting at the edge of the bed bent over with her hair hiding her face, tuft-like, Arianda plays the labile May as if she’s a tornado gathering force. Rockwell sees the cowboy-hatted Eddie as a not-yet-ignited stick of dynamite. He’s all contained menace. Weiss grabs attention for much of the time by doing nothing to grab attention and so is that much more attention-grabbing when he goes for it. Pelfrey does befuddled nice guy exactly right.

It may be that the lure for actors of such pungent roles explains the frequent Fool for Love sightings. Indeed, it may be that Shepard’s demanding work-out is more entertaining for the performers who get to take on Eddie and May than it is for anyone who gets to watch them.

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