“Why, Natalia? Why do you put yourself through that?” *deep sigh* “If you need help you know where to find me.”
I heard the words “Saddam Hussein” and “Al-Qaeda” and “Osama bin Laden.” Then the guy made some comment about Africa. Great, I thought, a geography-challenged bigot.
“Dear God, I’ve just discovered an enraged king cobra under my seat, please do something!”…?
Rafferty swore and lumbered after, as graceful as a bull elephant with an inner ear problem. He grabbed her by the arm, spun her around, and suddenly, they were making out furiously.
Having spent our glorious university years in Washington D.C., my friends and I recently decided to reconvene in the U.S. capital for a walk down memory lane.
Did I seriously just write the above headline? Heath Ledger was? He was? People die young all the time. There’s nothing new under the sun, and tragic death in one’s prime is no exception. In many ways Heath Ledger was (here’s that dreadful word again) no more special than, say, the people dying in Palestine …
It seems that everyone with wheels in Kyiv went up the Carpathian mountains to celebrate the New Year.
This is a review of Zachary Karabell’s People of the Book: The Forgotten History of Islam and the West. John Murray. 2007.
I don’t know if it’s human tendency or just human laziness to sum up a socio-cultural period in a few basic concepts, which may or may not represent the whole. But it sure as hell is human something.
While the world moves ahead with democratization, the Muslim world moonwalks like Michael Jackson back into authoritarianism.