‘Mud’ Review: More Character, Less Muck
Evanston RoundTable, May 23, 2013 As movie titles go, “Mud” is a little misleading, because it shines a spotlight on the wrong character. Mud is
It is a vanity project and a writing closet, a treasure chest for news, views and reviews.
More prosaically, it provides a store house for my writing. Some of it is quirky – poems, sayings and asides. There are movie and book reviews, profiles and other articles from my past and present sojourn as a journalist. Plus my new book — The Dream Machine: A Novel of Future Past!
A thrilling, highly imaginative and tautly written journey back in time to find “the tool to unrule” a post-American fascism.
“Brilliant,” says National Book Award winner and MacArthur Genius Fellow Charles Johnson of “The Dream Machine: A Novel of Future Past.”
“A great tale, brilliantly told,” says violist and international recording artist Roger Chase. “There are surprises on every page, and the end, which comes only too soon, is a coda of marvelous drama, invention and imagination.”
Evanston RoundTable, May 23, 2013 As movie titles go, “Mud” is a little misleading, because it shines a spotlight on the wrong character. Mud is
Evanston RoundTable, May 9, 2013 The subject of creativity has, for obvious reasons, long intrigued artists and writers. “Renoir,” the new French biopic of the
Occasional and random thoughts about whatever: I leave my dreams as I would leave my friends, with regret. Some say perfection is impossible, the enemy
Occasional and random thoughts about whatever: I leave my dreams as I would leave my friends, with regret. Some say perfection is impossible, the enemy
Evanston RoundTable, April 25, 2013 Baseball holds a special place in American life. While it might not be as popular as it once was, our
Evanston RoundTable, April 11, 2013 Drawings may be the oldest art form we know – consider the cave paintings – yet in movies, like Rodney Dangerfield,
A marlin can’t see the redwood forest. A finch can’t imagine the deep. A sea lion can’t see a hummingbird dance on the edge of
The night’s always darkest about six hours before dawn, when you can’t sleep.
The future is here, and it’s turning out a lot like the utopia H. G. Wells predicted: people do what they want, and they don’t