The first four episodes of Stranger Things Season 5 are out on Netflix now. This piece discusses details from the show; if you’d rather avoid those, come back after you’ve watched.

There is a certain kind of magic to a show like Stranger Things, which somehow manages to re-engage fans with every new season — despite a sense it is often telling the same story, over and over again.

After more than three years away, Netflix has turned its final season into its holiday gift to the world, releasing four episodes on Wednesday, three on Christmas Day and the series finale on New Year’s Eve. Still, whether this truly feels like a holiday present may depend on how eager viewers are to dive into yet another adventure hanging the world’s fate on a bunch of teenagers from small town Indiana.

Creators Matt and Ross Duffer — known collectively as the Duffer Brothers — have their work cut out this time around as showrunners and regular writers and directors.

But the real question is whether the Duffer Brothers can come up with a finale that truly feels like a satisfying conclusion, after nine years of gory jump scares, inexplicable plot twists, extra-dimensional bad guys and pink-laced, ’80s nostalgia that helped redefine the streaming age.

Life under quarantine

This season begins, as always, with an intrepid band of young people working together to sidestep adult venality and cluelessness to save the world from a monstrous, super-powered entity. Courtesy of Netflix’s decision to release the first five minutes from the first new episode weeks ago, fans know this season begins with a horrific flashback. A young Will Byers — played by a younger actor camouflaged with digital technology to look like a de-aged Noah Schnapp — is captured in 1983 by murderous extra-dimensional psychic bad guy Vecna and connected by a pulsing umbilical to his hive mind.

Talk about foreshadowing. When the story picks up again four years later, Will’s hometown of Hawkins, Ind. is under quarantine, sealed off by the military. And Will has a mysterious connection with Vecna and his monstrous minions.

Last season saw the horrific alternate dimension the Upside Down intrude into the real world. Now the military is regularly testing residents in Hawkins and guarding a portal between the worlds, which pulses and throbs like a gooey outtake from an Alien movie. Inexplicably, the military has required the town’s denizens to stay put, going to school and work like they don’t live at the epicenter of a psychic and extradimensional phenomenon that nearly engulfed the world.

Most of our heroes are trying to fly under the radar — spearheaded by can-do group leader Nancy Wheeler (Natalia Dyer). Eccentric motormouth Robin Buckley (Maya Hawke) and heroically coiffed Steve Harrington (Joe Keery) now run the local radio station, while Gaten Matarazzo’s angry nerd Dustin Henderson joins friends Mike Wheeler (Finn Wolfhard), Lucas Sinclair (Caleb McLaughlin) and a more mature Will in navigating a high school where their fellow students resent their presence.

Millie Bobby Brown’s character, the psychic-powered orphan Eleven/Jane Hopper, is in hiding around Hawkins, hunted by authorities who believe she caused the problems with the Upside Down and might be key to understanding it. She’s in training to refine her powers with Winona Ryder’s Joyce Byers — Will’s mom — and father figure Jim Hopper, played by David Harbour.

And Sadie Sink’s character Max, the show’s flame-haired tomboy, remains in a coma after surviving an attack by Vecna last season aimed at helping him open a portal from the Upside Down to the real world.

David Harbour as Jim Hopper and Millie Bobby Brown as Eleven.

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Making old plotlines feel new again        

There is a lot about this new batch of episodes that reminded me of previous storylines, as this kooky new-school Scooby Gang repeatedly pulls off elaborate plans to get past the military, sneak inside the Upside Down and search for Vecna.

Once again, there’s a ruthless doctor empowered by the military to probe the Upside Down — this time, played by Terminator alum Linda Hamilton. Our young heroes keep devising elaborate-yet-successful plans to outwit the military and access the alternate universe where Vecna is hiding. We have generous sprinkles of ’80s pop culture, from a surprising reference to pop star Tiffany to the sly use of Diana Ross’ 1980 dance hit Upside Down.

There are also winking nods to movies, with scenes that recall moments from Aliens, Good Morning, Vietnam and even Home Alone. Deft as these touches are, however, they are also moves we have seen before in this show.

And there’s a series of attacks by Demogorgons — super strong, super-teethy humanoid creatures from the Upside Down controlled by Vecna — who motivate our heroes by targeting children in Hawkins for kidnapping. This seems a deliberate callback to the way Will’s abduction jumpstarted everything in the show’s first season.

Stranger Things often juxtaposes action sequences and physical danger with protagonists separating and reuniting emotionally. So the new episodes feature Eleven pushing back against Hopper’s efforts to keep her out of the fray and safe from capture by the military, while Steve struggles with feelings for ex-girlfriend Nancy, Robin bumbles a relationship with her girlfriend and Will is continually on the verge of declaring something about his romantic feelings. Again, little of this will seem new to longtime fans.

Last season, I noted the show’s tendency to resolve emotional conflicts with “confessional monologues” — where one character turns to another and neatly, emotionally explains exactly the problem in their relationship. This time around, those monologues have become arguments, with characters revealing themselves in irritating fights aimed at fracturing the team, even as they resolve to work together.

Winona Ryder as Joyce Byers.

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Still, the Duffers are so skilled at keeping the plot hurtling along — fueled by smart, suspenseful cuts between situations, sprinkled with lots of breathless exposition and meticulous planning — that many may not notice how much these new dangers feel like old storylines.

When it gets tough to suspend disbelief 

Absurd as it may be to grouse about improbable storytelling in a series featuring psychic-powered villains from an alternate universe, it remains true that more fanciful moments play better when they are surrounded by stuff that feels grounded and authentic. So moments where Stranger Things loses that plot can be oddly annoying.

In one climactic moment, for instance, soldiers spend a lot of time shooting at Demogorgons after it is obvious bullets don’t stop them. Though one character wounded a Demogorgon with a broken wine bottle and another hurt it with a shotgun. Sigh.)

In a different scene, a Demogorgon is tearing up a screaming child’s bedroom while her mother is taking a bath, blaring an ABBA hit and zoning out. But, unless you’ve got headphones stapled to your head, it seems it would be tough to miss that kind of ruckus a few feet away.

It’s also tough to believe a military force that has spent millions occupying the town couldn’t figure out which local kids were close to Eleven and might understand a bit about this supernatural force which has impacted the world.

All of this produces a feeling that the Duffer Brothers have come up with a newly beguiling, action-packed way to lead viewers down a very familiar road. Critics have only seen the four episodes debuting Wednesday, so perhaps there are more surprising storytelling turns in episodes to come.

But, depending on how much you enjoy the journey, what they’ve pulled off so far could be achievement enough.

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Lewis Hamilton has unveiled a new fashion line that honors Las Vegas and simultaneously goes hand in hand with the renowned artist Ralph Steadman. The Formula 1 racer has expressed his excitement for making “something bold” for his +44 brand and thus an extra Vegas-themed release in his clothing line. The new collection drops just as Hamilton is all set to enjoy the Las Vegas Grand Prix weekend.

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The seven-time world champion was excited about the project and he shared his emotions by writing “VEGAS DAZE” on some stunning pictures taken during the collection shoot. Hamilton said it was a great honor for him to collaborate with Steadman, the great artist who has previously worked with Hunter S. Thompson and who has his own distinctive, chaotic way of painting. This collaboration has become a further step in Hamilton’s fashion empire which has always centered on the interplay of racing culture and high fashion, as well as artistic expression.

Hamilton’s fans were quick to come up with creative responses, and the majority of them were in favor of the new fashion line. An artist’s comment that caught my attention was Ralph Steadman’s, who said “Thank you! And may your tail wind carry the full force of Gonzo!” This reference to the Gonzo journalism style that Steadman helped to define with Thompson effectively conveyed the collection’s rebellious spirit.

The collection was launched at the same time as the Las Vegas Grand Prix and many followers pointed this out. One user referred to the sixth picture in the series and quoted the now-famous opening line from Thompson’s Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas: “We Where just Outside Barstow, When…” This literary allusion really resonated with some commentators who were pleased with The Thompson-Steadman connection.

The great admiration for Hamilton himself was very evident in the comments. One particularly moving comment held that Hamilton was “the best racing driver F1 has ever and will ever have”, comparing him with Muhammad Ali – the “People’s Champion”, who, like sport itself, transcends. The comment, which was supported by many positive replies, emphasized Hamilton’s social activism and persistence, concluding with “float like a butterfly and sting like a bee, let’s go Lewis. Still, we rise.”

Fashion lovers’ comments highlighted details that made the viewers take a second look. “The ice bucket picture is LIT” wrote one user, while another commented “the aura is effortless. The flow is effortless. The style is effortless.” The Brazilian audience also chimed in, with one of the comments in Portuguese saying “as always the Plus 44 collections are full of style and personality” and another one asking “next time get one for Brasil.”

The timing of the photoshoot amid Hamilton’s busy racing schedule was definitely noted. One of the followers joked “When on earth do you have time for a photoshoot? You must have done this at 7 am or something” pointing out how incredibly demanding the champion’s schedule is during race weekends.

Along with his successful racing career, Hamilton has been a gradual celebrity in the fashion business, with the positioning of his +44 brand as a major player. Collaborating with Steadman is probably the most artistically ambitious project that Hamilton has done so far, merging streetwear with fine art influences. The Las Vegas theme maybe is the most fitting, as the city is becoming a Formula 1 hub and Hamilton has lots of memories with it.

The collection reveal during the Grand Prix weekend gives an authentic bond to the racing and fashion aspects of Hamilton’s career. One commentator very aptly expressed the general sentiment: “At this point even gravity has a crush on him.” The blending of world-class racing with chic has been the defining characteristic of Hamilton’s remarkable position in both areas.

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This recent partnership has proven that Hamilton has been continuously changing from a racing champion to a cultural icon; he has been combining high-speed competition and high-fashion creativity in such a way that it constantly attracts more and more people to him worldwide. At the same time, the Steadman partnership, without a doubt, signifies his commitment to working with the greats of artistry while still maintaining his own personal style. Hamilton recently celebrated his honorary Brazilian citizenship and has also collaborated with Saul Nash and Lululemon on another collection. In a recent magazine feature, he discussed the profound meaning of wearing Ferrari red, and on the track, he secured a P3 starting position for the Mexican Grand Prix with Ferrari.

In the English language, the turkey gets kind of a tough break.

Talking turkey requires serious honesty and speaking harsh truths. Going cold turkey is, often, an onerous way of quitting something completely and suddenly. Being a turkey is a rude zinger thrown at movie and theatrical flops, as well as unpleasant, failure-prone people.

Yet, in the culinary world, the turkey looms large, particularly during November. This year, Americans are expected to eat about 30 million of them on Thanksgiving day, according to the National Turkey Federation. It’s a fitting legacy for a bird that’s been a fixture of holiday meals ever since it was first brought across the Atlantic to Europe by colonists.

But for all its cultural ubiquity, much of the turkey’s early history is shrouded in uncertainty, historians and etymologists say. That’s particularly true of how the bird got its name.

“‘Turkey’ is a very confusing, confusing name,” says Anatoly Liberman, a linguist and etymologist at the University of Minnesota, Twin Cities.

So in this week’s installment of “Word of the Week,” we trace the origins of that confusing name — all the way back to pre-Columbian Mexico.

A case of mistaken identity

The species of Thanksgiving turkey that we know today, meleagris gallopavo, was domesticated in the Americas centuries before the arrival of Europeans, according to food historian Andrew F. Smith’s book The Turkey: An American Story. They were found in what’s now Mexico and the U.S. Southwest, though the exact details of who domesticated the birds and when aren’t quite clear, Smith writes. And, thanks to fairly shoddy record-keeping, it also isn’t quite clear which European explorers can be credited with bringing turkeys back home with them.

But by the 1520s, the birds were being raised in Spain and served on the dinner tables of the upper-class, Smith writes. Over the decades, farmers across the continent began to raise them, too.

From there, though, the American bird became a victim of mistaken identity, according to lexicographer Erin McKean. Prior to meleagris gallopavo‘s arrival, the Europeans already had a bird they called the turkey: the African guinea fowl. The two game birds look similar and were ending up on people’s dinner tables in basically the same way, McKean says.

A guinea fowl is seen in January 2020 in Johannesburg, South Africa. Prior to the arrival of meleagris gallopavo, the African guinea fowl was the bird that Europeans called a “turkey.”

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“I bet they look a lot more similar when they’re denuded of their feathers, roasted and on a plate,” she says.

As a result, meleagris gallopavo got stuck with the name “turkey,” too.

But the American turkeys began to eclipse the popularity of their African doppelgangers, Smith writes. And they began showing up in historical documents; in 1550s Venice, for example, they were subject to sumptuary laws, which governed which members of society had access to particular luxuries, McKean says.

“So only certain people were allowed to eat turkey at that point,” she says.

One thing that’s not clear in the historical documents, though, is how the term “turkey” came to apply to guinea fowls in the first place. Smith writes that Europeans often added the word “turkey” onto items that were foreign and strange, like “turkey corn” from the Americas. McKean says that the name is thought to have come from the guinea fowl being brought by traders into Europe through the Turkish region.

But the word’s origin isn’t settled fact, she says. “I’m not sure we’re ever going to know.”

For his part, Liberman says that it’s a myth that the bird has anything to do with the country of Turkey.

“The Europeans knew nothing about [the turkey’s] origin and invented all kinds of names. They were not sure where the bird came from and ascribed its origin to all kinds of foreign lands,” he says.

In that sense, the bird is in good company: Liberman says that the origins of most bird names are mysterious. “Some are entirely fanciful, and some are the product of confusion,” he says.

Back to the Americas, and into the English lexicon

Over the decades, the English grew particularly fond of turkeys, which became a central part of celebrations like Christmas, Smith writes in The Turkey. So when English colonists came to North America and created settlements like Jamestown in the early 17th century, they brought their beloved domesticated turkeys along with them.

Crowds buying their Christmas turkeys at the Caledonian Market, London.

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The rest is history. Over the next two centuries, colonists’ celebrations of thanksgiving for good harvests and military victories became tradition, Smith writes. And by the time President Abraham Lincoln declared Thanksgiving to be a national holiday in 1863, turkeys were a mainstay of those meals.

Ever since, the turkey has remained on Thanksgiving tables — and in our colloquialisms, though they’ve continued to evolve.

Take “cold turkey,” for example. Now, the phrase is often associated with quitting an addiction – but that wasn’t the case when the first uses of the idiom started popping up in the late 19th century, according to Dave Wilton, the editor of WordOrigins.org. It simply meant that something was done quickly, he says, in reference to the fact that cold turkey is a dish that requires no preparation.

The meaning of “talking turkey” has also evolved, he says, from being “social” and ” agreeable” in the early 19th century to talking plainly and frankly around the beginning of the 20th.

Calling someone a “turkey” as an insult comes from theatrical slang, he says. Starting in the late 1800s, second-rate thespians were deemed “turkey actors”. It’s also come to describe box office failures.

Why all the negativity? McKean has a theory: “It’s an ugly bird that struts like a peacock without the beautiful feathers to justify showing off.” (Ouch.)

But it’s a word that has had staying power, despite the fact that it’s likely a misnomer in the first place.

“One thing we can’t lose sight of is that turkey is pretty much a fun word to say,” McKean says.

At the very least, it’s catchier than meleagris gallopavo.