Elon Musk rolled out a major rebrand of Twitter as "X" a week ago.
The Twitter sign was removed earlier this week and an X was projected onto the building.
Videos from inside the HQ shows the bird logos removed, black walls, and X-themed conference rooms.
Elon Musk's sweeping rebrand of Twitter has extended to the walls and conference room inside the company's San Francisco headquarters.
A video posted by Twitter employee Jenner Balagot shows some of the new changes, set to weepy music from Disney's "Wreck-It Ralph" movie soundtrack.
A brightly colored bird mural is painted over — in black, of course. A giant blue bird logo is removed from the cafeteria wall, leaving only the blue light projection that had been used to illuminate it. A collage reading "love where you work" over and over disappears, with only a bird-shaped protrusion on the wall remaining. Even small bird stickers are peeled off of surfaces.
Another video from Balagot shows a compilation of the headquarters' renamed — and increasingly bizarre — conference rooms. There's eXpanse, eXpand, eXpectation, eXile, eXoskeleton, eXit, eXhume, and eXorcist — the upbeat music in the rest of the video gives way to a horror sting when this last one pops up.
Earlier this week the new X logo was unveiled in a giant projection against the building's exterior in the middle of the night, and later the giant Twitter sign was partly removed outside the headquarters, though San Francisco police briefly halted the first attempt.
Musk's obsession with the X branding has been well-documented. After buying back the X.com domain from PayPal in 2017, Musk tweeted that the name held great sentimental value to him.
Musk's Tesla has released a car called the Model X, the holding companies created for the Twitter acquisition were called X Holdings, and Musk's new artificial intelligence startup is called xAI Corp. His son with Canadian musician Grimes, X Æ A-12 Musk, is often referred to by the nickname "Little X."
The rebrand of Twitter to X has sparked a mixture of reactions, from confusion to embarrassment to anger. One marketing expert called the Twitter rebrand "completely irrational." Some users joked that the new X logo looks like it belongs on an adult film site. And one survey showed that more avid Twitter users actually like the rebrand.
Divisive or not, it seems that the company's rebrand has truly gotten eXpansive.
Kanye West, legally known as Ye, has been reinstated on Twitter, or X as it is now known.
West, known as Ye, was banned for a second time in December after a string of antisemitic remarks.
Ye won't be able to monetize his account and ads won't be placed alongside his posts, reported the WSJ.
Kanye West is back on Twitter, now known as X, after being suspended for offensive tweets eight months ago.
West, who changed his legal name to Ye, was banned in December 2022 after he tweeted an image containing a swastika and the Star of David.
Ye made a string of antisemitic comments in the weeks leading up to his suspension, including in an interview with conspiracy theorist Alex Jones where he also praised Adolf Hitler.
At the time, Elon Musk said: "I tried my best. Despite that, he again violated our rule against incitement to violence. Account will be suspended."
Ye's reinstatement was met with criticism from Jewish rights groups. "We are disgusted to see antisemite Kanye West unbanned by Twitter," wrote the non-profit Stop Antisemitism. "What was once a platform for debate and discussion has simply become a cesspool for bigots to spew their hatred."
At the time of writing, Ye has not tweeted since his reinstatement.
His account has a gold verification mark, which is typically reserved for businesses.
The newspaper also reported that X had reinstated Ye's account after receiving reassurance that he wouldn't use the platform to share antisemitic or otherwise harmful language, citing a person familiar with the discussions.
Lee Jeyes left his job as Walmart's head of innovation after almost 17 years.
He said he was scared of getting older and looking back on his life with regrets.
Jeyes sold his condo and most of his belongings to start a new life traveling and working in an RV.
This is an as-told-to essay based on an interview with Lee Jeyes, a 32-year-old from Toronto who left his job at Walmart after almost 17 years to live and work in an RV. The following has been edited for length and clarity.
In February, I left my job at Walmart as its head of corporate innovation after almost 17 years at the company.
I sold or donated most of my possessions — everything from my car to my condo — and bought an RV for $40,000 in May.
I made the decision after doing an activity called "freedom from fear" in January. It involved asking myself "what is one of my biggest dreams in life?" and "what are all the things that I really want to achieve?"
I wrote them all down and questioned what was holding me back from pursuing them.
One of the biggest fears I had was getting older and looking back on my life with regret. So I chose to step away from my career and go traveling.
It's not a decision I took lightly. I'd been with Walmart and been focused on my career since the age of 16. I was promoted 15 times in my time there.
I had a nice car, an apartment, and a good salary. I was comfortable, but I was still looking for more.
After leaving Walmart in February, I spent time with family and friends in the UK and I started building a few exciting new ventures.
I set up a men's mental-wellness community called "Mind over Masculinity" and a grassroots development program for entry and mid-level management called "Learn from Leadership." I also signed with the agency Spoken Artists as a keynote speaker on innovation culture.
I then sold my condo for $925,000 in April and freed myself from a mortgage for the first time in a decade.
I also liquidated 95% of my assets to unlock capital to invest in other opportunities. I also had savings to fund my adventure.
I've been living in the RV with my dog Wally for just over two months now in a campsite in Ontario. I plan to visit all of western Canada over the next few months.
The RV is a home on wheels — it has a shower, kitchen, and air conditioning. I also have Starlink for internet access.
I'm spending between $800 to $1,000 a month on food, which is comparable to what I spent when I was living in a condo in Toronto.
Fuel costs me around the same amount as I converted the engine to run on propane, which lowers the cost and is better for the environment. RV insurance is cheap at $700 a year.
The idea of being able to do anything was exciting, but scary.
Sometimes too much choice can be overwhelming. It was not just a matter of what I want to do for work. It was about where I want to live and what I want to spend my time on. For me it was just jumping into the unknown.
I'm hoping that the community love that I can build on the way will help me on the journey.
I don't know where I'm going to end up or what I'm in search of, but I do know that this is where growth will come from.
Crouse has since moved, but when I visited him in March, he lived in Tokyo's Taishido neighborhood.
And he was paying just $450 a month.
I knew stepping into his apartment that his space would be small, but I was shocked that I never felt cramped. Instead, his apartment felt spacious with its large ceilings and natural sunlight.
Crouse's apartment was separated into three rooms.
There was a narrow kitchen, which felt reminiscent of my NYC kitchen. While he lacked an oven, he did have a smaller stove, mini fridge, and microwave.
The second room was his bathroom, which he said he "can literally touch wall to wall."
But the room that impressed me the most was his living space.
In the back of the apartment, Crouse had a room large enough for a lofted bed, desk, love seat, and TV.
Plus, he had a balcony overlooking the neighborhood.
No, Crouse's apartment wasn't huge, but for $450, it seemed like a steal.
Later that day, I visited Ryza Rynazal, who had recently graduated from the Tokyo Institute of Technology.
Rynazal was living in an even larger one-bedroom apartment in Tokyo's Meguro City neighborhood.
At the time, rent for his 285-square-foot apartment was around $800.
And he told Insider that he loves his apartment. When searching for a space, Rynazal said he toured four different homes. The apartment he landed on was a newer building and close to work and his friends.
For the cost, I understood why Rynazal loves his space so much. The kitchen was large for one person. He had a small fridge, microwave, and stove.
He also had a spacious bathroom.
Typical of traditional Japanese homes, Rynazal had separate rooms for the toilet and shower.
And in the back of his apartment was a large bedroom. Here, he stationed his desk and created a small living area.
Overall, Rynazal said he's happy with his choice and couldn't imagine calling another space home.
I left Rynazal and Crouse's apartments impressed. I had set out to tour tiny apartments in Tokyo, but I hadn't set out to fall in love with the spaces.
Their layouts were cleverly designed and felt far more spacious than I had imagined they would.
Plus, they were affordable in my eyes. When it comes to the US, I don't have any friends who are living alone in major cities for $800 — much less $450.
As I boarded a train back to my hotel, I reconsidered whether I could live in a major city like Tokyo.
Lucy Kellaway spent many years working at the Financial Times as a writer, editor, and columnist.
She gave up her six-figure salary to retrain as a teacher and set up the charity Now Teach.
She now makes about a third of her previous salary but says being a teacher is "amazing."
This is an as-told-to essay based on an interview with Lucy Kellaway, who stopped being a full-time writer for the Financial Times to become a teacher. The following has been edited for length and clarity.
I joined the Financial Times as a journalist as a 25-year-old after I spent two years working as a banker for JPMorgan.
I really loved working at the newspaper. They gave me lots of different and interesting jobs to do, including as an associate editor and my last role as a career columnist. It was a very cushy, privileged job.
Although it was glamorous and fun, those things started to wear off. I worked with great people, but I found myself in my late fifties considering if I actually wanted to do one job my whole life.
My mum was a great school teacher and when she died when I was in my forties I briefly thought about becoming a teacher like her.
But I thought I might have left it too late. Ten years later when my dad died, I thought I needed to do something radical with the time I had left of my working life.
I knew from my daughter, who is also a teacher, that there was a desperate need for more teachers in the UK. So I thought, "that's what I'm going to do."
Earning respect
I left the FT in 2018 and now I teach business studies three days a week in a comprehensive school in Gateshead in northeast England, where I've been for a year.
Next year I'm going to teach my true love — economics.
Going into schools was a complete culture shock. Going from having been a very respected person in a senior position at the FT to being at the lower end of the ladder was a shock.
The next shock was the kids.
They don't think "we've got Lucy Kellaway teaching us." You have to earn their respect.
I had led an intensely privileged life. I went to a grammar school, I had middle class parents, and lived in houses full of books.
Then I attended Oxford University and worked at the FT, which was pretty much an extension of that institution in my early days there.
To go and teach in an inner-city school in Hackney in east London, where about 40% were on free school meals and only 15% of students were white, was a shock too.
I was suddenly right up close to a world in which people were not like me. They didn't sound like me, and most importantly, weren't like me either. That is truly an interesting and exciting experience.
In my first year as a teacher I was paid as a trainee, which was around £25,000 ($32,000). That was a significant salary cut from the more than £100,000 ($128,000) I was earning as a columnist.
I was also making a lot of money from public speaking, so my income took a huge cut.
I've been lucky because a year before I took the leap to become a teacher full-time, I stockpiled cash and have been cushioned by those savings.
I can't say that I'm living the life of a teacher who earns about £35,000 ($45,000) because I also have an FT pension.
When I first joined the school in Hackney during the pandemic, I was surprised by the level of the dependence of families on food banks.
The education 'machine'
Real life is not like the Hollywood depiction of teaching. If you think of the movie "Dead Poets Society," where the privileged white teacher has all the kids fall in love with the subject – it's not like that.
Education is a system and a machine and actually the person who needs to do the adjusting isn't the kids; it's you.
You're a part of that system and the minute the machine says deliver the exam results, that's what you have to do.
So for me to leave readers with the impression that my life is like "Dead Poets Society" couldn't be further from the truth.
As well as retraining to become a teacher, I decided to set up a charity, Now Teach, which supports people who want to retrain as teachers later in life to help fill the shortage.
I knew from writing about working life that many people in their fifties who were lawyers or worked in other corporate roles get bored with it and want to do something more useful.
We've had about 700 people sign up to train as teachers. In the first year there were many corporate lawyers, ex-bankers, and consultants who joined. Now we're much broader.
We don't do the training ourselves – we encourage and reassure the people signing up to become teachers. They come to the Now Teach website, we explain more about what it involves then we put them in touch with the training programs.
Feeling great
We are this built-in network and support group of people who have done the same thing, and we offer a lot of networking and training sessions that are aimed specifically at this cohort.
We now employ about 18 to 20 people who work mainly part-time and they are involved in running the networks and then helping us select and recruit the candidates. I don't run it as I focus my time on teaching.
As a journalist, I always felt that I'm only ever as good as my last piece. But as a teacher, after days where I feel I've taught a good lesson, I feel great.
Even on the days where I think I didn't teach very well, you can still say those students learned something new. All teachers have something positive to notch up every single day and that's amazing.
Eight people were indicted on charges that they defrauded a car rental firm by stealing 19 vehicles.
The Department of Justice said the group would reserve rentals with fake IDs and credit cards.
An indictment alleged the individuals rented the cars from airports and never return them.
Eight people have been indicted in St. Louis on charges that allege they stole at least 19 rental cars worth more than $1 million as part of an identity fraud scheme.
In a statement issued Wednesday, the Department of Justice said eight people aged 32 to 39 had been indicted at the US District Court in St. Louis for defrauding a company it named "Business E.H."
The company is headquartered in Clayton, Missouri, per the indictment, which Insider has reviewed.
According to the indictment, the suspects would reserve rental cars from the company using stolen credit card information and false identities. They would then pick the vehicles up using false documents and counterfeit credit cards, it stated.
It added that the value of the stolen cars was just over $1.1 million.
The indictment said Tyrell Oliver, one of those indicted, would make the reservations and pay co-conspirators to pick up the vehicles.
They would fly to airports in the eastern US and Midwest to pick up the vehicles, which included a BMW X7, GMC Yukon, and Chevrolet Suburban, the indictment said.
"This is just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to how criminals use people's stolen identities," said Jay Greenberg of the FBI St. Louis Division.
"Perpetrators can easily and cheaply buy an endless supply of personal and credit card information. While the company in this case was the direct victim, innocent people were initially accused of theft because their stolen identities were used to commit the fraud."
The DoJ said the charges in the indictment were merely accusations and did not constitute proof of guilt.
Maxwell Social is New York City's latest social club with a spin: You have to cook your own food.
The two-floor Tribeca club has a kitchen and lockers for members to store their bottles of liquor.
Membership is $3,000 a year plus an additional buy-in ranging from $2,500 to $12,000.
New York City newcomer Maxwell Social isn't a regular social club. It's a cool social club — where members are supposed to cook their own meals and provide their own liquor.
Social clubs have gained an infamous reputation among both the general public and the social elite. From New York City Mayor Eric Adams visiting the private Zero Bond social club to TikToks poking fun of Soho House, people love — either going to or making fun of — these exclusive clubs.
But Maxwell Social, the newest edition to the long list of New York City social clubs, is trying to buck this reputation with its own spin. Here, members can cook their own food and pour their own drinks.
"I don't think there's any real purpose behind most existing social clubs right now," David Litwak, entrepreneur and Maxwell's co-founder, told Insider.
Maxwell Social isn't just interested in becoming a "third place." It wants to become its members' second home (hence the kitchen), a place where they can host potluck dinner parties, make their own drinks, and hang out with their friends.
As the company says on its website, the space is both a "basement man cave" and a "she shack."
The club — named after Elsa Maxwell, a gossip columnist and socialite who died in 1963 — has furnishings reminiscent of living rooms, libraries, and sunrooms. Yet its crème de la crème isn't the comfortable couches — it's the large kitchen.
But unlike your friend's living room and kitchen, access to the Tribeca clubhouse is hidden behind the metaphorical gates of a membership fee.
It wouldn't be a New York City social club without a fee, of course.
Members pay a $250 monthly fee plus a one-time buy-in at either $2,500, $7,000, or $12,000.
The lowest price is the "community tier," Litwak said, an opportunity to keep the club diverse with different genders, professions, and races.
Litwak couldn't discuss the details of these different tiers.
But he did say the lowest tier comes with a shared liquor locker while the upper two don't have to share theirs. After all, it is a bring-your-own-bottle space.
But you can't just pay your way in. There's an application process as well.
"We're looking for serious people who don't take themselves seriously," Litwak said, a distant callback to dating app prompts.
You'll need "a degree of warmth, curiosity, and irreverence" to join.
And they've already turned away plenty of applicants, they say.
Centering a social club around a kitchen may seem like an odd decision compared to the other social clubs available in New York.
After all, if you're paying at least $5,500 your first year, wouldn't you want a waitstaff to provide you with your food?
But if you look at the company's history, this decision might make more sense.
Before Maxwell became what it is today, the team experimented with a multi-city dinner party pop-up and memberships at brick-and-mortar bars and restaurants.
But the team realized its pop-ups were missing two key components: cool people and subsequently, community.
"Any regular event-thrower will tell you this: The coolest people they want to show up get invited to the most other events," Litwak said. "It's not a great way to build community if the coolest people in your community are not attending as often."
So instead of a pop-up concept, Soho House, or Metropolitan Club, Litwak wants people to think of Maxwell as an "old school country club," a Harvard Finals Club, or even "your old school Italian-American club."
All three provide this coveted sense of community — similar to places of worship — that Maxwell is trying to emulate.
So in theory, clubs with similar principles already exist.
But according to Litwak, unlike these organizations, Maxwell doesn't have restrictions based on ethnicity, gender, educational background, or religion.
Instead, the only restriction is how much you're willing to pay.
"We just need to show people there's a modern way to gather in the way we've always historically done," he said.
And by giving guests their own kitchen, Maxwell can save money — no need to hire a kitchen and waitstaff if these roles are already being filled by its members.
Before the club space opened about two months ago, the space was the home to glitzy Chinese restaurant China Blue.
The entire interior was gutted and rebuilt over 13 months. But reminders of China Blue still remain in the form of its logo and the Seamless and Postmates stickers on the club's entry door.
Now, after a $4.5 million buildout, Maxwell looks more like a rich grandparents' living room and sun room than it does a Chinese restaurant.
And Litwak says it's already profitable with 100 members and additional revenue streams like private event rentals.
Maxwell will continue to scale up to 700 members who will all share this 8,000-square-foot space.
To tend to these members, the club will be staffed with five or six people including bartenders, cleaners, a door person, and a manager.
When I toured the club on two separate afternoons, I was greeted with a combination of both moody spaces and a bright rear section that looked like a garden room.
Inside, the two-floor physical space can be separated into four main areas: the entryway that looks like a giant closet, the kitchen that opens into a larger lounge and dining table, the sun room-esque back room hidden behind a rotating bookshelf, and the downstairs basement.
Downstairs, a large functioning bathtub grounds the dark bunker-like space as a photo opp and a place to keep buckets of ice and alcohol.
This lower level is a mix between a movie room, a bathroom, and a stage for live music.
The bathtub pictured above is the one on its top floor — Maxwell has two bathtubs.
Off to the side is where members can find their liquor lockers.
Maxwell has bartenders but part of the appeal is the ability to pour your own drink.
Back upstairs, this upper floor has a library, communal dining table, kitchen, and garden room-like lounge.
A mural of the New York and Paris skyline grace the wall near the ceiling while the all-important kitchen opens onto the rest of this upstairs space.
The modern kitchen is what regular people with Manhattan apartments dream of.
Here, there's a modern stove top with immaculate burners, a glistening golden vent, marble countertops, utensils, and rows of storage.
On the other end of this space, the brighter flowery lounge had several stocked bars.
If the previous space looked like a moody and expensive living room, this looked more like a whimsical English garden or sunroom.
Multicolor copper pots and pans lined the walls while bundles of fake plants decorated the space.
The mismatched pillows, exposed brick walls, and not-too-vintage-looking chandeliers could have the approval of any gardening grandparent.
The communal seating isn't meant to be used as a coworking space.
To prevent this, Maxwell is only open after 6 p.m. on weekdays and all day on weekends.
The point of joining Maxwell isn't to take advantage of the space, its cofounder says. It's the other members.
Maxwell is about the community — it is a social club after all.
This means members can bring their friends, meet new friends, and reserve spaces within the club.
"We're building a community that happens to have a clubhouse," Litwak says.
So if you want to join in on other people's dinner parties, pitch in for potlucks and community dinners, and organize your own dinners, this is the club for you.
In some cases, Maxwell will help with grocery delivery. And cleaners (including dishwashers) come with the membership fee. Now that's a real luxury.