Bob Woodward, in his quiet, modest way, was mad as a wet hen on NBC’s Meet the Press the other Sunday: Why do you call it State of Denial? Tim Russert was asking. Why, in so many words, did you have to be so shrill?
“That’s what the facts show,” Mr. Woodward responded. “It took Read More
Bob Woodward, in his quiet, modest way, was mad as a wet hen on NBC’s Meet the Press the other Sunday: Why do you call it State of Denial? Tim Russert was asking. Why, in so many words, did you have to be so shrill? “That’s what the facts show,” Mr. Woodward responded. “It took Read More
Remember the Bush vacation?
Last year. August. The "family ranch" in rural Crawford, Tex. The Presidential-esque seal behind the press secretary's platform, "WESTERN WHITE HOUSE" branded across the bottom; the Rancher in Chief snipping at reporters wondering why the man who promised to bring a new dignity to Washington was abandoning the capital for a solid Read MoreFear the left, the center says.
"The middle part of the country-the great red zone that voted for Bush-is clearly ready for war," Andrew Sullivan apprised readers of the London Times the week of the attack. But "the decadent left in its enclaves on the coasts is not dead-and may well mount a fifth column." They Read MoreThe Wilkomirski Affair: A Study in Biographical Truth , by Stefan Maechler. Schocken Books, 496 pages, $16.95.
No nation is immune to the snares of mass hysteria. Here in America, consider the 80's wave of accusations of "Satanic ritual abuse" against day-care providers. Outside caregivers were the ones implicated, only rarely biological parents–and once the thing Read MoreSpeak You Also: A Survivor's Reckoning , by Paul Steinberg. Metropolitan Books, 163 pages, $21.
There is a character in Primo Levi's Survival in Auschwitz called Henri, one of the few figures in the book whom the master Holocaust memoirist singles out for contempt. Henri is a Jewish inmate from Paris, so young he cannot Read MoreHarry Gold , by Millicent Dillon. Overlook Press, 280 pages, $26.95.
Six years ago, when I came to New York from the Midwest to seek my fortune as a writer of the intellectual sort, I developed an obsession with an obsession. Colleagues in my adopted city could not stop arguing about the Communist Party of the Read More
