Dirty Harry reviews Andrew Klavan’s new thriller, Empire of Lies, today.
I tried to order it online myself (not even waiting for the paperback, which is a big decision for me). The problem is, I do my online buying from Barnes & Noble, and they don’t stock the book. Only the audio book.
Hmm, you don’t suppose there’s a political consideration involved, do you?
There are disputes over the authorship of two popular Christian poems. “My client wants to preserve for all time the knowledge in the public that his mother wrote this poem,” states one lawyer, and some of us have to ask what the real point of that knowledge would be–credit or money?
Tony Snow, commentator and former press secretary for the president, died of cancer at 2:00 a.m. this morning at Georgetown University Hospital. He was 53. I think if talk radio commentators were stereotyped as being like Tony Snow, few people would have room to complain about them. He was a great man.
Let me add that I hope to him in heaven. I believe he was Catholic, and I heartily disagree with the doctrine of the Catholic church, but I’ve heard Tony talk about life and dealing with cancer a few times and I believe he understood the gospel.
You know, I never feel much when public figures pass away. I don’t know them, even if I admire them, so I don’t feel more than a bit of disappointment, if that. So why am I crying now?
I was composing a funny blog entry in my mind today. The premise was that I’d pretend to come clean with you, and admit that I’m not Lars Walker, Norwegian Avoidant has-been author, but Dwight Krupinsky, an insurance adjustor from Spokane with a wife and kids, who’s created this false identity for some reason I never entirely worked out.
It came to nothing, but I had identity on my mind.
Then I stopped for groceries after work, and used my credit card at checkout. I have an old credit card from a certain issuing bank, and it features a picture of me. The bank came up with the picture-on-the card gimmick on the theory that a card with the owner’s picture would be harder to use fraudulently (this was when a lot fewer people had internet access). I don’t think they’ve pushed the program for years, but every time they replace my card, it still has the picture.
It’s actually become counterproductive. Continue reading I’m not the man I used to be
Dennis Ingolfsland over at Recliner Commentaries passes on a report from WoodTV 8 in Grand Rapids, MI:
Christian publisher Zondervan is facing a $60 million federal lawsuit filed by a man who claims he and other homosexuals have suffered based on what the suit claims is a misinterpretation of the Bible.
Because the “Gay” movement is all about, you know, live-and-let-live.
You run across all sorts of things, surfing the web. Tonight, for no particular reason, I’ll share with you the story of Margaret, the Maid of Norway, a girl who lived only seven years and did nothing at all remarkable, but is nevertheless renowned in the folklore of two countries.
I realize there’s no reason you should be interested in her story, so I’ll attempt to lure you in by notng that Margaret’s story is the backstory to the movie Braveheart.
You’re aware, aren’t you, that, fine as it is as a rousing piece of manly cinema, Braveheart is, from a historical point of view, a load of haggis? The costumes are wrong. The chronology’s mixed up. The battles are inaccurate. And the politics are skewed.
At the beginning of the film, you’ll recall, William Wallace’s father (his brother too? I forget) rides off to a meeting with King Edward I of England, where all the Scots in attendance are treacherously hanged. Such an incident may have happened at an earlier time (it can’t be proven one way or the other), but it didn’t happen to Wallace’s father, and that wasn’t what started the conflict between Edward and the Scots. Continue reading Margaret, the Maid of Norway
“More important than its homages to Hollywood classics may be WALL-E’s status as an example of the kind of films Hollywood rarely makes anymore: well-crafted stories for a mass audience.“
Greybeard sends a link to a post on “what church leaders can learn from literature.” He says he has read only Wilde’s The Picture of Dorian Gray, which I have not read and I would say is not high on my list except I don’t have an actual list, so I can’t quite judge this title’s placement on it. I would like to read it some day. Maybe once I become rich and famous.
I have read Potok’s My Name is Asher Lev. I read it for a modern literature class in college and had to give a type of oral report on it even though I hadn’t gotten beyond 100 pages. But in those pages, Asher Lev grabbed me. It’s a thickly tensioned story of a family that feels out of place in the world and a gifted boy who feels out of place in his family. I’d like to read it again before getting around to Dorian Gray. I mean, I like Oscar Wilde. I have enjoyed my frequent experience with The Importance of Being Earnest. But I want to read more of Chaim Potok. One is flash, the other heat.
Many more reading recommendations follow in the comments on that post.
I want to follow up on what I wrote yesterday about the contrast between Dean Koontz’ early books and his later ones. I’m lukewarm about most of the early books, and I loathe at least one of them. But his more recent books are magnificent, and they get better and better, in my opinion.
This is a lesson (and an encouragement) for all aspiring writers.
When I was a kid, I meant to be an artist when I grew up. I wanted to draw or paint, or something. Be a cartoonist, or an illustrator or a commercial artist.
I drew incessantly. I drew behind my books during lectures in school (an 8 ½ by 11 sheet folded in half was my preferred canvas. It was easily hidden, and just about as much space as I could handle conceptually). I drew while watching TV in the evening.
But I was always frustrated with my drawing. I compared what I produced to what real artists did, and I knew mine fell short. And I never seemed to progress beyond certain limits. I never quite mastered proportion or perspective. I never learned to do hands well.
Then I started writing. And somehow that was different. I didn’t think I was as good as the published writers, but I never felt like I hit that wall. I felt as if I had control over words, in a way I didn’t have control over my pencil. Something told me I could pretty much go as far as I wanted with this thing.
The improvement in Dean Koontz’ books should be (it seems to me) an encouragement to everyone who wants to be a writer. There are doubtless others, but I personally don’t know of another author whose work exhibits such a clear upward learning curve…. Continue reading The learning curve
Movies fascinate me. I rarely actually go out and spend a double sawbuck to see one, you understand, but I’m always interested in what’s being made, who’s making it, who’s in it, and what it’s about. Regular readers will have already noted that I write about movies quite a lot on this book blog, even though we don’t even have a Movies category.
So for a long time, one of my must-read daily blogs has been Libertas. Started by Jason Apuzzo of the conservative Liberty Film Festival and his wife Govindini, Libertas passed, for the last couple years and up until very recently, into the stewardship of an independent director who called himself “Dirty Harry.” I liked the blog even better under Harry, who admits to being a Christian, and therefore (until a few weeks ago) kept his identity secret for fear of blacklisting.
Then he suddenly disappeared from Libertas, and Apuzzo returned. It was unclear for a while what had happened, but it finally was explained that Dirty Harry was gone, Apuzzo was back, and Dirty Harry was now blogging over at Dirty Harry’s Place. Which I accordingly bookmarked. I then followed both blogs.
No details were given, but clearly there’d been a falling out.
Today Apuzzo announces that Libertas is going on hiatus for the summer.
Excuse me?
Phil, if we ever decide to drive a stake through this blog’s heart, that would probably be a pretty good template to follow.