Evel Knievel, the stuntman daredevil who died on December 1, left a legacy that goes beyond his inspiration to countless little boys on banana-seat bicycles as they took running starts up boards set up as ramps against cinder blocks.
Norman Mailer passed away on November 10, with a number of eulogies published by those in the literary world, some friends or acquaintances, who related their encounters with the esteemed writer/celebrity.
Columbia president Lee Bollinger’s condemnatory introduction to Mahmoud Ahmadinejad has reportedly spurred a backlash among many of the university’s faculty and students.
Osama bin Laden was cornered by U.S. forces in his cave. He was reported to have been surrounded by 17 virgins whom he blew up along with himself, while shouting “Allahu, Akbar!” In response, massive rallies were held in Washington.
Much clucking behind television anchor desks follows the airing of popular internet footage of girl fights. After repeated displays of adolescent girls slapping each other, pulling hair, and ripping off clothes, news anchors wonder out loud about the reasons for their popularity among YouTube and other internet viewers.
As a twelve-year-old I had been petrified at the thought of attending Ben Franklin. My fears were borne out when I was locked into French class at the direction of the principal over the P.A. system. In the halls, stampeding students were breaking glass and beating up teachers.
Best-selling atheist authors are riding a wave of ignorance and illiteracy. The latest offering, God Is Not Great, comes from a bon vivant with a British accent, an attribute that lends sophistication in the eyes of the pseudo-intellectuals whose vision of the Christian is the Bible-thumping backwoodsman.
He had a book opened on his lap, but it was too late: The middle-aged man seemed to be possessed by Wolf Blitzer, who in turn has been channeling Walter Cronkite.
When I entered the master’s program in English at Georgia State University in the early 1990s I had not read Tenured Radicals by Roger Kimball and so was taken aback by the snarling, vituperation, and the seething contempt most professors felt for the authors I eagerly looked forward to studying.
He is a man convinced that he is right and he is very angry that most of the world refuses to recognize it.
Why does The New York Times believe they are in a position to tell the winner of a presidential election that he has to “prove” himself, as they did with this headline on Monday, “Sarkozy Wins the Chance to Prove His Critics Wrong”?
For my reprieves from the academic, and for inspiration for my creative writing, I like to walk a trail around a lake in a community about a mile from where I live. This former summer community is an island of artsy-ness and progressivism, and higher real estate prices than the brick ranch houses like the one I live in. A locally famous folk-singing lesbian couple reportedly lives there, and that gives the community extra cachet.
If you were a student at Virginia Tech last fall and had a propensity for the gruesome and violent you could have satisfied your thirst for the bloody and course requirements by enrolling in Professor Brent Stevens’s English 3984 class, “Special Studies: Contemporary Horror.”
In my neighborhood, in DeKalb County, Georgia, where last month an extra one percent sales tax was quietly extended through a referendum only its advocates seemed to know about, I see able-bodied teenage boys waddling in pants with crotches down to their knees, throwing potato chip bags to the ground. The Ph.D.'s who insist that these youth are disadvantaged and write nonsense about such things as "post-traumatic slave syndrome," cannot, despite their abilities to take a far-removed obscure occurrence and weave an entire school of thought around it, make the simple observation that the droopy drawers restrict mobility nearly as much as the slave shackles of old.
Maybe the death of an 18-year-old at the hand of a jealous husband will put an end to the rib-poking and television footage of bikini-clad teachers straddling motorcycles or gyrating in garter belts.
Recognizing the hollowness of such "apologies," Georgia House Speaker Glenn Richardson said, "Nobody here was in office when slavery was practiced." He is right: Apologies on behalf of others are empty and do nothing more than promote one's estimation of one's self.
The flock has been demoralized both by the weasels (called humanities professors) nipping at them when they were young and vulnerable, and by the leaders of churches who have either sacrificed some lambs (hoping to appease these atheist hyenas) or have simply retreated from the world.
In response to the recent assault by “tolerant” atheists, I am going to explain why it is necessary to maintain our Christian heritage in order to sustain our democracy.
I hope you don’t mind that I’ve adapted the title of your bestselling pamphlet bound between two hard covers and foisted on to an ignorant public as a book. Of course, I am referring to your pretentious Letter to a Christian Nation.