Yes, spring is here, or dashed close by, what? The sky's a light blue, with cotton-wool clouds, and there's a bit of a breeze blowing from the west. Uplifting! If I had yellow shoes and a green homburg I'd go do pastoral dances in Hyde Park with dear old Bertie Wooster:
'I don't feel at home in this world anymore'
I am always late to pop cultural happenings. The movie I don’t feel at home in this world anymore won the Sundance Film Festival’s U.S. Grand Dramatic Jury Prize in January 2017, but I discovered and saw it only the other night, in some obscure basement at Netflix.
Looking up the movie reviews, I was astonished that not . . .
That President Trump will meet Kim Jong Un to negotiate over North Korea’s nuclear program is news not only astonishing but auspicious – promising of success. South Korea’s national security adviser Chung Eui-yong met Kim on Monday and conveyed Kim’s offer to the White House last night:
“I explained to . . .
The New York Times editorializes on the Italian election: “Demagogues win as Europe’s populist tide sweeps Italy.”
Demagogues? In its modern pejorative sense, a demagogue is one who seeks power by exploiting the prejudices of the mob. But in the original 5th century BCE Greek usage a demagogue could also be simply . . .
I first got an inkling that the Islamic Revolution will fail when I read about the popular Chaharshanbe Suri - red or fiery Wednesday - festival in Iran. Chaharshanbe Suri is on the eve of the last Wednesday before Nowruz, the Iranian new year, in March. People build bonfires in alleys and on street corners. They leap over the . . .
Do you wonder why you'd never heard about 'fake news' till late in the 2016 election campaign, when, suddenly, apparently overnight, the American big media pack took up the danger that 'fake news' poses for American democracy?
How did that happen? Here is a Ted Talk by investigative journalist Sharyl Attkisson on the carefully . . .
"He rode into our valley in the summer of '89. I was a kid then, barely topping the backboard of father's old chuckwagon. I was on the upper rail of our corral, soaking in the late afternoon sun, when I saw him far down the road where it swung into the valley from the open plain beyond.". . .
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