"O Canada," the national anthem of our neighbors up north, comes in two official versions — English and French. They share a melody, but differ in meaning.

Let the record show: neither version of those lyrics contains the phrase "all lives matter."

But at the 2016 All-Star Game, the song got an unexpected edit.

At Petco Park in San Diego, one member of the Canadian singing group The Tenors — by himself, according to the other members of the group — revised the anthem.

School's out, and a lot of parents are getting through the long summer days with extra helpings of digital devices.

How should we feel about that?

Police in Baton Rouge say they have arrested three people who stole guns with the goal of killing police officers. They are still looking for a fourth suspect in the alleged plot, NPR's Greg Allen reports.

"Police say the thefts were at a Baton Rouge pawn shop early Saturday morning," Greg says. "One person was arrested at the scene. Since then, two others have been arrested and six of the eight stolen handguns have been recovered. Police are still looking for one other man."

A 13-year-old boy is among those arrested, Greg says.

Copyright 2016 NPR. To see more, visit http://www.npr.org/.

After an international tribunal invalidated Beijing's claims to the South China Sea, Chinese authorities have declared in no uncertain terms that they will be ignoring the ruling.

The Philippines brought the case to the Permanent Court of Arbitration in The Hague, objecting to China's claims to maritime rights in the disputed waters. The tribunal agreed that China had no legal authority to claim the waters and was infringing on the sovereign rights of the Philippines.

Donald Trump is firing back at Supreme Court Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg after she disparaged him in several media interviews. He tweeted late Tuesday that she "has embarrassed all" with her "very dumb political statements" about the candidate. Trump ended his tweet with "Her mind is shot - resign!":

Donald Trump wrapped up his public tryout of potential vice presidential candidates in Indiana Tuesday night with Gov. Mike Pence giving the final audition.

The Indiana governor's stock as Trump's possible running mate is believed to be on the rise, with New Jersey Gov. Chris Christie and former House Speaker Newt Gingrich also atop the list. Sources tell NPR the presumptive GOP presidential nominee is close to making a decision, which he's widely expected to announce by Friday.

Copyright 2016 NPR. To see more, visit http://www.npr.org/.

The unassuming hero of Jonas Karlsson's clever, Kafkaesque parable is the opposite of a malcontent. Despite scant education, a limited social life, and no prospects for success as it is usually defined, he's that rarity, a most happy fella with an amazing ability to content himself with very little. But one day, returning to his barebones flat from his dead-end, part-time job at a video store, he finds an astronomical bill from an entity called W.R.D. He assumes it's a scam. Actually, it is more sinister-- and it forces him to take a good hard look at his life and values.

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In Old Havana, A Story Of Sunlight And Mystery

Jun 25, 2012
Originally published on June 25, 2012 9:47 am

Pablo Medina is the author of Cubop City Blues.

"Showtime! Senoras y senores. Ladies and Gentlemen. And a very good evening to you all, ladies and gentlemen. Muy buenas noches, damas y caballeros. Tropicana! The MOST fabulous nightclub in the world — el cabaret MAS fabuloso del mundo — presents — presenta — its latest show — su nuevo espectaculo ..."

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is the opening of Tres Tristes Tigres, a novel about 1950s Havana by the Cuban novelist Guillermo Cabrera Infante. I first read it in 1968 in a Spanish edition. To say I read it quickly is an understatement. I devoured it and then flipped back to the beginning and read it again. Years later, I read the book in English. Its title was Three Trapped Tigers.

I'd left Havana when I was 12. After the initial excitement of landing in New York, I fell into a miserable nostalgia for a past that would never be again. Gone were the tropical gardens and blue skies, the labyrinth of streets and arcades, the allure of those soft, silky nights that I'd barely had the chance to experience. Over the years, 1950s Havana has been stereotyped as a sinful city, where tourists came to lose their money, drink good rum and have their sexual fantasies satisfied. But the Havana I experienced was physically beautiful — filled with sunlight and mystery. Three Trapped Tigers was the book I needed to show me that, if the past could not be recovered, it could be invoked through books.

The opening of the book is spoken in the officious voice of the emcee at Tropicana, the famous, luxurious night club of pre-revolutionary Havana. The rest of the story is about three young men who cavort with musicians, prostitutes and wealthy debutantes in the nighttime world of the city. There's La Estrella, an obese bolero singer, Vivian Smith-Corona, an heiress, Mr. Campbell, an American canned soup millionaire, and his wife. In between the chapters are brief passages told from the point of view of a woman in therapy. All are bracingly alive in a manic world that is crumbling from the inside out.

But what happens in the book is not as important as how it happens. The language sizzles and sparkles and reinvents itself so that sound and sense revolve around each other like twin stars. Words are hurled out of the page and boomerang back deconstructed, reconfigured and transformed into every tongue trick known to man and woman. Even Infante's riff on the city's name is like this: "Havana, the name of a city which is just a beautyfoul corruption of Savanna/ Sabannah/ Sabana/ Abanna/ Havannah/ Havana/ Habana/ La Habana/ Avana in Italics Cyrillically Gabana, and the Sbanish panner." It is a book about place, culture, movies and music; it's about the urban condition, the whirlwind of voices trapped in a free-falling way of life.

Even in translation, Three Trapped Tigers remains a most Cuban book — Cuban with an American accent, that is. It's emotional, ironic and irreverent.

This confraternity of tongues allowed me to superimpose the city of my childhood over the city of my future. Havana became New York. New York became Havana. Reading it, my nostalgia ebbed and was replaced with a fascination for the multitudes, the yellow rivers of taxis, and the canyons of steel, glass and concrete — the intoxicating physicality — of my adoptive city. It showed me that Cuban and American cultures, far from competing for my attentions, were complementary versions of something larger. My past was not lost forever. It was tied to literature, and I could retrieve it at will.

You Must Read This is produced and edited by Ellen Silva and Rose Friedman with production assistance from Gavin Bade.

Copyright 2012 National Public Radio. To see more, visit http://www.npr.org/.