South of the Big Four is a gracefully told, arresting look at an America in which the center no longer holds, where a new kind of forgiveness and understanding must be found. In the tradition of A Thousand Acres and A Map of the World, the novel's sudden truths and lasting images transcend the daily lives of its Midwestern characters to create a penetrating, resonant story, made all the more remarkable because it is the author's debut.
By the turn of the 20th century, West Adams had become one of the first bedroom communities in fast-growing Los Angeles. Mansions and bungalows housed bankers and merchants who commuted to their businesses downtown, as well as moviemakers, debutantes, the social elite, and one or two scoundrels. Anchored by Adams Boulevard, this area just west of downtown has been through many changes. Today the neighborhood is one of the most racially and architecturally diverse in the country and contains the highest concentration of historic cultural monuments in Los Angeles. Residents and local archives, including the University of Southern California and the Automobile Club of Southern California, have contributed images to this volume illustrating life and architecture from Victorian times onward.
Intellectual Dr. Mitchell Chandler and Pastor Randy, former heavy metal rock musician and currently head of a local evangelical collective, discuss science, faith, physics, and metaphysics in the small Midwestern town of Prairie Grove.
In this thought-provoking story of suppressed emotions and forbidden love, two people who, for different reasons, have kept their deepest feelings from arising even into their own awareness ultimately face the truth. Unusual circumstances bring them together and they find themselves falling deeply in love. But Jerry Haloran is a Catholic priest, and after having discovered love by its first name, he must make the ultimate decision, one that will affect the rest of his life.
Ho ho oh hell, is it that time of year again? Already? When the muzak starts cranking out lousy Casio versions of "It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas" non-stop? When the flavor du jour switches from pumpkin spice to eggnog every damned thing? When the world gets all twinkley and glittery and your eyes just want to roll out of your skull from the sparkle overload? When the clatter and jangle of the Salvation Army bell-swingers standing outside every shop entry and exit makes you want to put your ears out with an icepick? Worse: how about when every other person you come across wants to infect you with the holiday cheer, whether you want it or not? When the constant refrain is: "Remember the Reason for the Season" as if the reason isn't the cash register? When we have to hear the never-ending idiot bleating from certain quarters about the war on Christmas? Seriously, is it that time of year again already? Well, if that's got you feeling like Krampus, you've come to the right place. We don't give a tinseled crap about the reason for the season. Deck the halls with this. They want a war on Christmas? Fine. Here it is. And we don't take prisoners.
Throughout long profiles and conversations--ranging from 1982 to 2001--the renowned author makes clear his distinctions between historical fact and his own creative leaps
A gorgeous and surprising Father's Day gift book, this collection of photos and sassy commentary by radio star Don Imus and his brother, entrepreneur Fred Imus, offers a powerful and memorable work for lovers of the American West and for fans of Don's broadcasts. 70 photos, many in color.
Revised February, 2011 I called the book a researchers guide for a reason. This book is a compilation of the material I read about the assassination, but in a totally different format. Easy to read; direct and to the point. I tried to give as much information as possible. Obviously I could not possibly put all the information in one book, so I was a bit selective in the data I recorded. It contains numerous aspects of the case and nearly every line will lead the researcher to the source of the information so they can continue to look into that particular topic. When I started my research, my goal was to prove Lee Harvey Oswald did not murder John Kennedy. By the time I proved Oswald did not shoot Kennedy, I noticed Oswald did not shoot Tippet either. Noting where he was seen before the shooting and where he was after the shooting will prove he was not at the window at 12:30pm; I will prove my point. I determined Oswald did not have time to get into position to do the shooting. The motorcade was scheduled to pass the Book Depository at 12:25 pm. Oswald was in the lunch room at 12:15 and Bonnie Ray Williams was on the 6th floor, alone, until 12:20. A good sniper would have been in position well in advance of his preys expected arrival, which Oswald was not. But wait theres more. . . Looking at some of the evidence from a totally different perspective, I was able to prove, a conspiracy. I compared the wounds, with the Bullet count, and the time statistics of the rifle. I assure you no one has looked at it from this viewpoint. The closest any author came to mentioning this concept was Harrison Livingstones book, High Treason.
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