After we admit that all historical circumstances are specific and all sufferings absolute--that Serbian "police" are not Nazis and ethnic Albanians not Jews (and NATO forces cannot be compared p
Like a guest at a potlatch, laughing to see his host's worldly goods go up in flames, I roared at The Matrix--roared and at the same time was humbled, knowing Warner Bros.
Confronted with the inexplicable, policy-makers and pundits alike grope for the apt historical analogy. It's a natural human reaction.
Back in the fifties, before the term "new journalism" was coined, back when Gay Talese was writing minor obituaries for the New York Times, Tom Wolfe was a grad student at Yale and Joan Di
After writing this, her fourth book on the Christian right, Sara Diamond donated fourteen years' worth of research--right-wing pamphlets, fliers and position papers--to the University of Californ
The Case of Binjamin Wilkomirski's Fragments
Until the past few months, bestowing any Holocaust honorific upon Binjamin Wilkomirski, the author of the
If you adored Catherine Texier's Breakup last year, fell to the floor gushing sympathetic tears for the abandoned raconteur and raised your fists with indignant empathy over the cruelty o
Like the telephone before it, television has been an instrument for overcoming American loneliness.
The world is a bleak canvas, all black and white, with only some grays "so that the black and the white [don't] bump into each other so hard." The gods are quarrelsome and bored.