My parents at an earlier celebration.
My father died last October. My mother died in 1982, some thirty years before. For many years I have had dreams in which I have seen my mother alive. Almost always, she is alive on this earth, and she has not yet died.
Now, a few weeks ago, I dreamed of both my parents for the first time. Continue reading
Let me just say right off the bat that it takes guts to take a sacrosanct American novel, let’s say, F. Scott Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby, and turn it into a film. And that is exactly what Baz Lurhmann has done. Art begets art, and so I would never be the kind of person who would refuse to see this film because “the movie is never better than the book,” or “I can’t stand Tobey Maguire,” or, “Jay-Z is not the Jazz Age,” although I know people that I profoundly respect who do not wish to sully the novel that is in their heads with Baz Lurhmann’s outsized pop-opera cinematic style.
Fair enough.
G. K. Chesterton wrote, “Science in the modern world has many uses; its chief use, however, is to provide long words to cover the errors of the rich.” A rich man cannot be a thief. He must be a kleptomaniac. America, the richest society in the history of the world, applies this use of science with diligence.
We apply it most diligently on behalf of our children. No red-blooded American child would misbehave. Our children have disorders.
