Latest news with #D'Angelo
Axios
11-07-2025
- Entertainment
- Axios
The Richmond vinyl listening parties you should know about
Richmond's nightlife is thriving — if you know where to look. One of my latest go-to's is at Le Cache Dulcet, a coffee-and-records shop in the Arts District that stays open late to host intimate vinyl pop-ups. Zoom in: The events are often in tribute to legendary R&B and neo-soul albums. Last month, the listening party celebrated the 10-year anniversary of The Internet's "Ego Death" release, with sounds curated by local DJ Ohemghi. On Wednesday, it was all about Richmond's D'Angelo, in honor of the 30th anniversary of "Brown Sugar." That event, which was capped at 40 RSVPs, sold out quickly.
Fox News
12-06-2025
- Health
- Fox News
Medical experts warn 'Big Food' is fighting back against Ozempic with addictive items for sale
Ozempic and other weight-loss drugs may be cutting through "food noise," yet the junk food industry is only getting louder, some medical experts claim. "Ozempic is breaking the food addiction cycle – but Big Food isn't going down without a fight," Dr. Mark Hyman, an internationally recognized advocate for functional medicine, said in a recent Instagram post. "For decades, ultraprocessed foods have been engineered to hijack the brain's reward system – perfecting the 'bliss point' of sugar, salt and fat to keep people hooked," the physician also said. As Americans work to take hold of their health and wellness – and as the government cracks down on artificial food additives – the snack food industry appears to be evolving to outsmart both drugs and lifestyle changes, according to some observers. "Big Food isn't happy," Hyman continued, expressing his point of view. "Our food system is broken. It's built to create addictions, push ultraprocessed junk and profit off public health crises." Weight-loss and life coach Charles D'Angelo, based in St. Louis, Missouri, agreed with that assessment. "The food industry is one of many things evolving to outsmart our judgment sometimes," D'Angelo told Fox News Digital. "They are even outsmarting these medications and different health trends by engineering foods that bypass your hunger and can ultimately lead you to be more reactive than you otherwise would be." Fox News Digital reached out to Novo Nordisk, the manufacturer of Ozempic, for comment. Hyper-palatable foods (HPF) are designed with combinations of palatability-inducing ingredients, fat, sugar and carbohydrates that together enhance a food's deliciousness and produce an artificially rewarding eating experience, according to the National Institutes of Health (NIH). The Consumer Brands Association, based in Arlington, Virginia, represents the interests of the consumer-packaged goods (CPG) industry. "The makers of America's trusted household brands deliver safe products to consumers and innovate to provide them with healthier options," Sarah Gallo, senior vice president of product policy for the Consumer Brands Association, told Fox News Digital. "No industry is closer to the consumer than this one," she added. "For decades, food and beverage companies have taken their cues from consumers on what products they want in the marketplace to meet their dietary and health goals – whether it's options low in sugar, sodium and saturated fats, no artificial colors or low-carb, high-protein and high-fiber options." D'Angelo said that even without added ingredients, however, marketing campaigns often mislead consumers into purchasing and eating or drinking foods they think are healthful when they're not, D'Angelo said. "That's not nutrition. It's marketing." "They're not just selling junk food anymore," D'Angelo said. "How many things do you see when you go down the grocery store aisle that say high-protein or low-carb, but they're still ultraprocessed? And it's engineered to hook you. That's not nutrition. It's marketing." Gallo said her organization is aligned with the goal of radical transparency and aiding consumers in making informed choices. "The industry has been actively engaged in initiatives to improve nutritional information accessibility for over a decade," Gallo said. One initiative is Facts Up Front, a voluntary program that presents key nutritional information on the front of packaging, facilitating quick assessment by consumers. Additionally, the industry has introduced SmartLabel, allowing consumers to access detailed nutritional information via QR codes. For more Lifestyle articles, visit Gallo said the Consumer Brands Association "stands ready" to work with the federal government "to continue to ensure the analysis of safe ingredients and increase consumer transparency." She added, "It's also why we are working with Congress to ensure the [U.S. Food and Drug Administration] is properly resourced to carry out this important work and moving to mandatory notifications for new ingredients." "We need clarity, awareness and a complete shift in mindset to take back ownership of our choices." Still, D'Angelo said, misleading labels can give people a false sense of confidence in their personal choices. "I see how people are being conditioned subtly and repeatedly to trust marketing over their own inner signals, their own inner judgment," he said. "That's why we need more than just willpower or medications. We need clarity, awareness and a complete shift in mindset to take back ownership of our choices."
Yahoo
05-06-2025
- Politics
- Yahoo
‘I'm really not safe': A Venezuelan poet's fight to stay and write in the U.S.
When Oriette D'Angelo, in the fifth year of her doctorate program at the University of Iowa, found out that President Donald Trump had plans to revoke her temporary protected status, she told her friends she would mail them her notebooks of poems if she had to go back to Venezuela. They asked her why. 'It would be almost impossible to start over,' she said. She'd put years into her degree in Spanish and Portuguese, only to have it threatened by Trump's immigration agenda. D'Angelo, 34, came to Chicago on a student visa over a decade ago, seeking professional opportunities and escape from a crumbling infrastructure and violence in her home country. In recent months, however, a string of executive orders and court decisions on the legality of these orders has left her in an uncomfortable state of limbo, grasping for loopholes that might let her continue her academic research and writing. As a student who researches and writes poems about themes of dictatorship, she is heartened by the separation of powers in the United States, but said the federal government's often contradictory language in this moment feels dangerous. 'Venezuelans are being categorized as bad,' she said. 'But I want to stay here professionally. I want to finish my dissertation. I want to follow the right path.' D'Angelo's legal status changed several times over the course of a decade as she navigated the processes of U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services. She grew up in Lechería, Venezuela, a beach city with white buildings and red thatched roofs, which she said was peaceful in the 1990s and early 2000s. Throughout her young adulthood, she watched Venezuela slowly decline under the leadership of the country's far-left leaders, Hugo Chávez and Nicolás Maduro. She had a student visa upon her entry to the U.S. in 2015, as her purpose for coming to Chicago was academic and professional. When her Venezuelan passport expired in 2020, she applied for temporary protected status, or TPS, a form of relief that allows individuals from certain countries experiencing ongoing conflict or disaster to live and work in the U.S. for a specified period. But due to Venezuela's broken diplomatic relations with the U.S., all the consulates were closed. She had to travel to Colombia to renew it. And when D'Angelo came back through O'Hare International Airport in late November 2024, she was processed under TPS, not her student visa. She lost her international student status, despite her main purpose for moving to the U.S. being to study. Then, in late January, Trump revoked her temporary protected status. In a few months, it could expire, she said, and she would have no legal documents. D'Angelo is set to complete her doctorate in May 2026. She said everything she had worked for — her professional future and career aspirations — was put in jeopardy. Photos: Local officials, protesters clash with ICE outside Local officials, protesters clash with ICE outside office over detentions in growing escalation over Trump's immigration tactics Advocates demand release of Milwaukee father still facing deportation after being falsely accused of threatening Trump Chicago's new FBI boss touts new squad focused on fentanyl and says immigration enforcement is a 'sustained effort' Kristi Noem said an immigrant threatened to kill President Donald Trump. The story quickly fell apart 'The (Venezuelan) government is persecuting and detaining people who speak freely against them, so I couldn't imagine doing research like mine in my own country,' she said. 'It wouldn't be possible.' Following the news of her status being revoked in January, she immediately began preparing statements and documents for an international student status application. The processing and legal fees would add up, so she made a GoFundMe page to raise over $10,000. At a time of intense fear, D'Angelo and her girlfriend decided to get married in mid-March. They didn't make the decision for immigration purposes, D'Angelo said, but for concern about federal attacks on LGBTQ rights. 'With the current administration, we don't know if same-sex marriage will still be legal in the next few years,' she said. 'We want to be together.' As Trump ramped up the pressure on international students over the spring, D'Angelo took down her GoFundMe and kept a low profile. Every day in March, pulling up the news was a new type of anxiety. 'It was the longest month of my life,' she said. Her stress was so out of control that it started to affect her memory, D'Angelo said. She couldn't remember what had happened a day before. With the help of online donations, D'Angelo submitted an international student status application in March, which was approved by the U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services in mid-April. Receiving her status while watching more federal changes and mandates come in every day was surreal, she said. And, it all still feels fragile. About a month after she received her status, the U.S. State Department temporarily halted interviews abroad with foreign citizens applying for student visas and expanded scrutiny of applicants' social media. 'Survival mode is not over,' she said. 'Even though I have my student status back, I'm really not safe.' D'Angelo is concerned that funding for her program might be cut. She is cautious about what she shares on the social media platform X, as the Trump administration has said that it doesn't want to let in international students who are critical of the country. After spending years studying the patterns of dictatorships, she said that she can sense when politics becomes personal. 'It's getting very real,' she said. Recent data shows that almost 8 million Venezuelans have left the country in an exodus, a quarter of the population, in the largest Latin American displacement in recent history. Poetry was a way for her to escape the violence in Caracas, where she lived and studied in her early 20s, and where at least three times she was walking back to her home and passed dead bodies on the street, she said. 'It's impossible to fully describe what it was like,' she said. 'But that's also something that motivates me. It's part of everything I do.' In her poems, D'Angelo writes about gender-based harm, using threads from personal experience in a close relationship she had at age 21 with one of her professors, whom she said turned abusive. She compares unemployment, hunger and violence to a chronic illness that corrodes everything. Her work reflects the belief that human beings, inherently political, will do whatever it takes to survive, like humans traversing mountains and crossing borders in pursuit of a better future. At a recent book fair at the University of Chicago, D'Angelo sat on a panel with other writers from Latin America and talked about her childhood in Lechería. Her home was paradise, she said, except she loved to read and there were no bookstores. The only one was converted into a clothing store a few months after it opened. Hungry for a literary community, she began writing online, she said. She read authors like Octavio Paz and Mexican poet Leticia Cortéz and imitated their vivid style, using rich metaphors to explore big themes. Light shone through the window in a perfect square in front of them. 'Bruises on the skin know nothing of forgiveness / Dried-out wounds only tell one story,' she read. In an interview with the Tribune afterward, D'Angelo said that most Venezuelans come to Chicago because they are forced out of their homes, seeking physical safety or economic security that they don't have. 'It seems so unfair that the people who ran away from that … are now forced to go back, when they came here looking for safety,' she said. D'Angelo's second book will come out this month. Her goal is to teach at a university upon graduation, which she is allowed to do under her student status. As a professor, she said she wants to help her students understand that their dreams are valid, no matter where they come from. D'Angelo's arm is covered with tattoos: a hummingbird, her mother's handwriting, and designs like air and flowers. The Trump administration has used tattoos in combination with other justifications on a checklist to deport migrants, but hers remind her of beauty and home. They give her strength. 'Vale la pena,' reads one in cursive lettering on her left forearm, in English, 'It's worth it.'
Chicago Tribune
05-06-2025
- Politics
- Chicago Tribune
‘I'm really not safe': A Venezuelan poet's fight to stay and write in the U.S.
When Oriette D'Angelo, in the fifth year of her doctorate program at the University of Iowa, found out that President Donald Trump had plans to revoke her temporary protected status, she told her friends she would mail them her notebooks of poems if she had to go back to Venezuela. They asked her why. 'It would be almost impossible to start over,' she said. She'd put years into her degree in Spanish and Portuguese, only to have it threatened by Trump's immigration agenda. D'Angelo, 34, came to Chicago on a student visa over a decade ago, seeking professional opportunities and escape from a crumbling infrastructure and violence in her home country. In recent months, however, a string of executive orders and court decisions on the legality of these orders has left her in an uncomfortable state of limbo, grasping for loopholes that might let her continue her academic research and writing. As a student who researches and writes poems about themes of dictatorship, she is heartened by the separation of powers in the United States, but said the federal government's often contradictory language in this moment feels dangerous. 'Venezuelans are being categorized as bad,' she said. 'But I want to stay here professionally. I want to finish my dissertation. I want to follow the right path.' D'Angelo's legal status changed several times over the course of a decade as she navigated the processes of U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services. She grew up in Lechería, Venezuela, a beach city with white buildings and red thatched roofs, which she said was peaceful in the 1990s and early 2000s. Throughout her young adulthood, she watched Venezuela slowly decline under the leadership of the country's far-left leaders, Hugo Chávez and Nicolás Maduro. She had a student visa upon her entry to the U.S. in 2015, as her purpose for coming to Chicago was academic and professional. When her Venezuelan passport expired in 2020, she applied for temporary protected status, or TPS, a form of relief that allows individuals from certain countries experiencing ongoing conflict or disaster to live and work in the U.S. for a specified period. But due to Venezuela's broken diplomatic relations with the U.S., all the consulates were closed. She had to travel to Colombia to renew it. And when D'Angelo came back through O'Hare International Airport in late November 2024, she was processed under TPS, not her student visa. She lost her international student status, despite her main purpose for moving to the U.S. being to study. Then, in late January, Trump revoked her temporary protected status. In a few months, it could expire, she said, and she would have no legal documents. D'Angelo is set to complete her doctorate in May 2026. She said everything she had worked for — her professional future and career aspirations — was put in jeopardy. 'The (Venezuelan) government is persecuting and detaining people who speak freely against them, so I couldn't imagine doing research like mine in my own country,' she said. 'It wouldn't be possible.' Following the news of her status being revoked in January, she immediately began preparing statements and documents for an international student status application. The processing and legal fees would add up, so she made a GoFundMe page to raise over $10,000. At a time of intense fear, D'Angelo and her girlfriend decided to get married in mid-March. They didn't make the decision for immigration purposes, D'Angelo said, but for concern about federal attacks on LGBTQ rights. 'With the current administration, we don't know if same-sex marriage will still be legal in the next few years,' she said. 'We want to be together.' As Trump ramped up the pressure on international students over the spring, D'Angelo took down her GoFundMe and kept a low profile. Every day in March, pulling up the news was a new type of anxiety. 'It was the longest month of my life,' she said. Her stress was so out of control that it started to affect her memory, D'Angelo said. She couldn't remember what had happened a day before. With the help of online donations, D'Angelo submitted an international student status application in March, which was approved by the U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services in mid-April. Receiving her status while watching more federal changes and mandates come in every day was surreal, she said. And, it all still feels fragile. About a month after she received her status, the U.S. State Department temporarily halted interviews abroad with foreign citizens applying for student visas and expanded scrutiny of applicants' social media. 'Survival mode is not over,' she said. 'Even though I have my student status back, I'm really not safe.' D'Angelo is concerned that funding for her program might be cut. She is cautious about what she shares on the social media platform X, as the Trump administration has said that it doesn't want to let in international students who are critical of the country. After spending years studying the patterns of dictatorships, she said that she can sense when politics becomes personal. 'It's getting very real,' she said. Recent data shows that almost 8 million Venezuelans have left the country in an exodus, a quarter of the population, in the largest Latin American displacement in recent history. Poetry was a way for her to escape the violence in Caracas, where she lived and studied in her early 20s, and where at least three times she was walking back to her home and passed dead bodies on the street, she said. 'It's impossible to fully describe what it was like,' she said. 'But that's also something that motivates me. It's part of everything I do.' In her poems, D'Angelo writes about gender-based harm, using threads from personal experience in a close relationship she had at age 21 with one of her professors, whom she said turned abusive. She compares unemployment, hunger and violence to a chronic illness that corrodes everything. Her work reflects the belief that human beings, inherently political, will do whatever it takes to survive, like humans traversing mountains and crossing borders in pursuit of a better future. At a recent book fair at the University of Chicago, D'Angelo sat on a panel with other writers from Latin America and talked about her childhood in Lechería. Her home was paradise, she said, except she loved to read and there were no bookstores. The only one was converted into a clothing store a few months after it opened. Hungry for a literary community, she began writing online, she said. She read authors like Octavio Paz and Mexican poet Leticia Cortéz and imitated their vivid style, using rich metaphors to explore big themes. Light shone through the window in a perfect square in front of them. 'Bruises on the skin know nothing of forgiveness / Dried-out wounds only tell one story,' she read. In an interview with the Tribune afterward, D'Angelo said that most Venezuelans come to Chicago because they are forced out of their homes, seeking physical safety or economic security that they don't have. 'It seems so unfair that the people who ran away from that … are now forced to go back, when they came here looking for safety,' she said. D'Angelo's second book will come out this month. Her goal is to teach at a university upon graduation, which she is allowed to do under her student status. As a professor, she said she wants to help her students understand that their dreams are valid, no matter where they come from. D'Angelo's arm is covered with tattoos: a hummingbird, her mother's handwriting, and designs like air and flowers. The Trump administration has used tattoos in combination with other justifications on a checklist to deport migrants, but hers remind her of beauty and home. They give her strength. reads one in cursive lettering on her left forearm, in English, 'It's worth it.'
Yahoo
02-06-2025
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
D'Angelo Cancels Roots Picnic Performance Over Medical Issue
D'Angelo announced on Friday evening that he would not be performing at this year's Roots Picnic in Philadelphia. The singer shared his 'disappointment' in an Instagram post on the Roots Picnic's social media. D'Angelo wrote that due to an 'unforeseen medical delay' following a surgery he had earlier this year, he was advised by his specialist team that the weekend performance 'could further complicate matters.' More from Rolling Stone Questlove Was 'Shocked' by Kendrick Lamar's Homage to the Roots In 'Squabble Up' Video The Roots, Soccer Mommy, and More Lead 2025 SummerStage Concerts Across NYC Janelle Monáe, the Roots, Jacob Collier Lead Stacked Newport Jazz Fest Lineup In the same post, the festival captioned, 'Due to a longer-than-expected surgical recovery, @thedangelo won't be able to join us at Roots Picnic this year. We're sending love and keeping him in our thoughts as he continues to heal!' 'It is nearly impossible to express how disappointed [I am] not to be able to play with my Brothers 'The Roots,'' D'Angelo continued in his statement. 'And even more disappointed to not see all of You.' Thanking his fans for 'continuing to rock with me' and their support, the musician teased that he was 'currently in the Lab' and 'can't wait to serve Up what's in the Pot!' Speaking to Rolling Stone in 2015, after the release of his acclaimed third album, Black Messiah, D'Angelo said, 'I do want to put a lot of music out there.' He added, 'I feel like, in a lot of respects, that I'm just getting started.' D'Angelo was set to appear at the Roots Picnic returning to the Mann in Fairmount Park on May 31 and June 1. He was among the leading artists slated for the fest alongside Lenny Kravitz, Meek Mill, GloRilla, Miguel, Tems, Latto, Kaytranada, and more. In a separate announcement on Friday, the Roots Picnic revealed that Maxwell would be performing on May 31. Maxwell, whose track 'Pretty Wings' was listed among Rolling Stone's 100 Greatest R&B Songs of the 21st Century, earned his third Grammy for his most recent album, 2016's blackSUMMERS'night, winning Best R&B song for 'Lake by the Ocean.' The artist wrapped his 2024 North American tour back in October, which featured special guests Jazmine Sullivan and October of Rolling Stone The 50 Greatest Eminem Songs All 274 of Taylor Swift's Songs, Ranked The 500 Greatest Albums of All Time
