Cow Plop: "American Outlaws" (2001)

This review has spoilers. "American Outlaws" is cinematic proof that the American public will watch just about anything, even a film that makes "Young Guns" look like "The Searchers."

Colin Farrell is Jesse James and Gabriel Macht plays Frank, his brother. After the film opens with perhaps the most fun ever had at a Civil War battle, the Jameses and Youngers head home to Missouri. There, evil railroad executives have moved into the state in record time and are trying to buy everyone's land to build a railroad. Farms are burned, people killed, and the Youngers and Jameses have had it. After Ma James (Kathy Bates, here for the check) is killed in an attack, the guys decide to stick it to the man by robbing banks where the railroad company does business. The rest of the film is a series of explosions as the gang robs, Allan Pinkerton (Timothy Dalton) tries to track James down, and the boys escape from one pickle to another.

This film is stupid. So stupid. First of all, all the characters are straight out of a screenplay seminar: Jesse the dashing hero, Zee (Ali Larter) his love interest, Frank the smart one, Cole Younger (Scott Caan) the hothead, Bob Younger (Will McCormack) the "funny" one, Jim Younger (Gregory Smith) the boy who you know will die, Tom (Nathaniel Arcand) the politically correct Native American Indigenous People Indian Scout guy whose sole function here is to add some color to the cast of white guys, Rains (Harris Yulin) and Parker (Terry O'Quinn) are the villains, Ma James is the religious nut who has no problem with guns and killin', and Pinkerton, who enjoys the chase of James more than the capture. All the young men wear cool clothes and brandish magical pistols that seem to reload themselves. Thank goodness everyone over thirty five is an idiot, so as these rascally killers can go John Woo/Chow Yun Fat all over their gold filled rumps and do serious damage without ever killing an innocent bystander. Electric guitar riffs fill the soundtrack, and the film goes through all its preordained set pieces where the outcome has already been determined yet the film makers treat them as if they invented the genre. If you need to see cute guys without their shirts on, go online. If you need to see a decent western, watch anything but this. The entire cast and crew should be ashamed of themselves for coming up with this and shooting it. Did we learn nothing from "The Brady Bunch," when Bobby worshiped Jesse James until Mike brought home the son of one of the outlaw's victims? Why is that decades old sitcom more responsible than this dung? Wanna know the kicker to this whole migraine of a movie? Ma James is killed, prompting the boys to take revenge on the railroad. In real life, she outlived Jesse by almost forty years.

Avoid "American Outlaws" like the popular girl at the brothel. (1/2 *) out of five stars.

*Get a physical copy of "American Outlaws" on Amazon here*

American Numbskull Too: "American Ninja 2: The Confrontation" (1987)

Joe (Michael Dudikoff) and Jackson (Steve James) are assigned to an embassy detail on a tropical island where U.S. servicemen are disappearing, and they eventually discover why.

Sad sequel to the sad original has some of the worst genetically modified ninjas ever. Boring, poorly choreographed fight scenes are punctuated by one of the silliest plots ever saddled onto the franchise. Steve James seems to be the only one here having any fun- he would pass away a few years later after this film's release, much too young. (1/2 *) out of five stars.

*Get a physical copy of "American Ninja 2: The Confrontation" on Amazon here*

American Numbskull: "American Ninja" (1985)

Michael Dudikoff stars in the first entry of the semi-successful, awfully cheap series from the good folks at Cannon Studios.

Dudikoff plays Joe Armstrong, a mopey private in the Army whose first day on a convoy sees it attacked by ninjas. The convoy also happened to be carrying the Colonel's daughter Patricia (Judie Aronson), and Joe saves her and helps build a tiny mountain of sexual tension. Joe is blamed for the deaths of some fellow soldiers in the attack, and gets in a fight with Jackson (Steve James), eventually winning his respect by kicking his butt. The villainous Ortega (Don Stewart) is trying to steal a missile launcher from the Army with the help of crooked sergeant Rinaldo (John LaMotta) and Patricia's dad Hickok (Guich Koock), and a whole mess of ninjas that Ortega has in his private ninja army training facility located at his estate. The rest of the film consists of Joe escaping and getting recaptured by both sides, until Ortega's gardener Shinyuki (John Fujioka), who happened to train Joe as a kid, reappears to help his former student kick more ninja butt.

I grew up the son of a military officer. Why if I had a nickel for every time I rode with a military convoy, got kidnapped by ninjas, heard Dad refer to himself as "THE Colonel," involved myself in base affairs, fell for a female non-commissioned officer, or lived in a base home the size of the White House, I would still be flat broke. Judie Aronson starts out even more annoying than damsel-in-distress Kate Capshaw in the second Indiana Jones film, but she eventually calms down to a tolerable whiny level. Michael Dudikoff is all handsome looks and no performance, although this kind of role does not require any acting ability. I have not seen this many shaggy haired extras pretending to be in the military since "WarGames." The writers obviously figured the explosive ninja action would cover up any logical mistakes- like why the opening convoy was attacked in the first place.

"American Ninja" cost nothing to produce, and amounts to nothing when watched. I could go on about the lack of acting, Sam Firstenberg's pedestrian direction, and the fact that this is paced like a very special two-part "The A-Team," but why? Watching "American Ninja" is as painful as sitting on a throwing star. Ooooh, the sequels await! (1/2 *) out of five stars.

*Get a physical copy of "American Ninja" on Amazon here*

A Dream Come True: "American Nightmare" (2002)

There are many spoilers in this review. Give credit where credit is due- Jon Keeyes' creepy direction overcomes his own flawed script in a slasher film that dares to be different and succeeds.

Shot on location in Texas, the opening features a potentially old school gathering in the woods of two couples. There is no mystery about the killer's identity, as former nurse Jane (Debbie Rochon) kills three people and kidnaps Trisha (Kimberly Deanne Morgan). Fast forward a year later, and Caligari (Chris Ryan) is hosting the pirate radio show "American Nightmare," asking callers to phone in and tell him their greatest fears. A group of friends sitting in a coffeehouse all call in, having some forced fun, except Trisha's sister Jessie (Brandy Little). Good thing, too, since Jane is keeping a barstool warm just a few feet away. The other friends scatter to a Halloween party, leaving computer nerd Wayne (Johnny Sneed) alone with his laptop. Jessie goes to babysit Deanna (Hayden Tweedie), daughter of a cameoing Brinke Stevens. The rest of the film consists of Jane killing Jessie's friends according to their broadcasted fears. Jessie and Trisha's sister Misty (Rebecca Stacey) has a fear of showers after "Psycho." Tony (Robert McCollum) is afraid of that voodoo that you do so well. Hunky Bruce (Kenyon Holmes) don't like the rough sex. Melanie (Heather Haase) hates the whole buried alive motif. Jane is a busy gal, dispatching the sometimes cluttered cast, then putting the info online for Wayne to see. She also has time to make menacing phone calls to Jessie, and breaking into the house. No one can call the police or else Jane will murder the already thought dead Trisha, and Wayne and Jessie go to their old abandoned high school to finally have it out with the murderess.

First the negative. Keeyes' dialogue was sometimes very stilted and unnatural sounding. The cast of friends is huge, and I lost track of relationships and names quickly. For an unconventional slasher flick, Keeyes does take an obvious step into convention here and there: the villain makes a little killing shrine showing her planning for the night's festivities, and the victims are not the brightest people around- letting this weird woman do things for them that even good friends would be leery of trying. Also, and maybe this was budgetary, but the gore here is nonexistent. I am a huge fan of "Halloween"'s scares over gore, but a little blood would have been lovely. Keeyes' direction, however, did remind me of John Carpenter's, pre-1990. The film's music is totally appropriate. The editing is crisp and professional. Keeyes camera placement shows a lot of thought and maximizes the suspense. He does not resort to jump cuts, or cats leaping onto the set and scaring everyone. No villain dies, then magically comes back to life long enough to bore the audience. The video I saw was letterboxed, and Keeyes certainly fills his screen with interesting things. Jane is bathed in cold blue light for a number of her scenes. Caligari's radio setup is different. The cast is good across the board. Sneed is refreshingly normal in his role, no bulging biceps and action flick heroics. Little is very good as the damaged Jessie, showing actual emotion when it comes to talking of her lost sister. Rochon is different as Jane in that she is not some masked and mute superhuman killing machine. She is certifiably nuts, never offering an easy motive for her killing spree. The surprise ending is expected, but still works.

"American Nightmare" is a dream come true for all of those serious horror fans who are tired of hearing how the "Scream" series is the end-all-be-all of the modern slasher flick. (* * * *) out of five stars.

*Get a physical copy of "American Nightmare" on Amazon here*

Heart of the Madder: "American Heart" (1992)

This film has an excellent cast rising above some lackluster material you have seen before in other "angry ex-con"-driven stories.

Jack (Jeff Bridges) is a recently released convict who tries to dump his fifteen year old son Nick (Edward Furlong) in the very first scene. Jack heads to Seattle, with Nick following, in order to set up a new life without the bothers of fatherhood. Jack meets with his old partner in crime Rainey (Don Harvey), who pays Jack a little money. Jack gets a job washing windows on high rise buildings, and settles into a small apartment. And then there is Nick. He has left Jack's sister's farm to live with him. He skips out on registering for school, and hangs around some homeless street kids downtown. Jack is boozing his way through Seattle, meeting up with Charlotte (Lucinda Jenney), who used to write him by way of a personals magazine called "American Heart." Nick gets a job delivering newspapers, and Nick and Jack share their little apartment, upstairs from a topless dancer and her troubled teen daughter Molly (Tracey Kapisky). The film then meanders through scenes of Jack and Nick arguing, then grudgingly making up, trying to develop some sort of normal relationship. Eventually, the cast begins spiraling downward.

Martin Bell was responsible for "Streetwise," the gritty documentary about homeless street kids that is among the greatest documentaries ever produced. He used this experience with this fictional film, but I found this screenplay often resorted to Hollywood convention. The ex-con trying to make it on the outside has been done, but maybe not this well acted before. Jeff Bridges is wonderful. He is flawed, and his behavior is innate. He does not want a relationship with Nick, and makes that all too obvious without resorting to stereotypical behavior. Bridges even has a light moment, when Jack's parole officer Normandy (Melvyn Hayward) is banging on the apartment door, and a hungover Jack finds underage Molly fast asleep at the foot of his bed. Furlong, who I have never liked in anything, gives his best performance here, too. I noticed his scenes where he plays opposite adults are more effective than when he is dealing with his teenage contemporaries. He is sympathetic without being saintly or cutesy. Jack and Nick's argument in the apartment, where Nick smashes a treasured ukulele, is strong stuff. Lucinda Jenney as Charlotte is also good, although Bell unwisely drops her character from the last part of the film after we have become so involved with her. While Don Harvey as Rainey is okay, there is a mentor relationship with Jack that is never fully explored. He looks Furlong's age, someone with a harder edge may have made more of an impact.

"American Heart" is a decent film that should be sought out for the acting. (* * * *) out of five stars.

*Get a physical copy of "American Heart" on Amazon here*

With Friends Like Thomas Ripley, Who Needs Enemies?: "The American Friend" (1974)

There are spoilers throughout this review. Patricia Highsmith's psychotic creation, Thomas Ripley, is still in Europe, played by the psychotic Dennis Hopper. Wim Wenders takes a promising basic plot and injects it with "art."

The cinematic Thomas Ripley was made famous by Matt Damon in Anthony Minghella's watchable "The Talented Mr. Ripley," and about half a dozen other cinematic incarnations. Ripley is now selling paintings by a thought-dead, but very alive artist, smuggling them from New York City to Europe. At one auction, Jonathan Zimmermann (Bruno Ganz) from Hamburg, a lowly picture framer, spots one of the painting's flaws, although it is bought by the rich Allan Winter (David Blue) anyway. Ripley overhears that Jonathan suffers from a blood disease and does not have long to live. Under Winter's name, Ripley sends a condolence telegram to Jonathan, who has been told by his doctor that he is just fine. Jonathan has a wife, Marianne (Lisa Kreuzer), and a young son, and is concerned for their welfare after he is gone. Frenchman Raoul (Gerard Blain) comes to Jonathan with a proposition. Kill a known gangster in Paris and Jonathan's family will be set for life. Jonathan still does not believe he is dying, but agrees to see a specialist in Paris before agreeing to kill. Raoul gets the report from the hospital, and Jonathan's outlook is not good. Given a gun, Jonathan follows his target around the underground, eventually plugging him in the back. He panics and runs, and his image is captured on security cameras everywhere. Back in Hamburg, Ripley keeps following Jonathan. Raoul arrives and offers Jonathan yet another hit on a train, but this time Ripley helps in the murder of another mobster and his bodyguard. Raoul is now on the run, Marianne suspects her husband is doing more than seeing specialists, and Jonathan and Ripley hole up in Ripley's chateau and await some very angry mobsters.

Wim Wenders does have a wonderful quirky direction, especially in the two hit sequences. The subway shadowing and the violence of the train hit are brilliantly shot, save some weak effects as Ripley dangles outside a moving passenger car. The problem is that Wenders takes forever to get things going, and when they do, they are not very interesting. Hopper is an inspired choice as Ripley, the viewer is never sure of his motives, just that he is enjoying all the attention. Bruno Ganz is great as the rather dumb Jonathan, when he gets the medical report from Raoul instead of the hospital, you just know someone is hiding something. It is also unknown why Jonathan is asked to do a second hit, his image on the security cameras during the first hit never pans out with any sort of manhunt or investigation. Also, the forging painter, Jonathan's doctor, and one of the mobsters all have a shock of white hair and look exactly alike. This only adds to the constant confusion that permeates the plot. The fact that the focus is on Jonathan, instead of Ripley, leads to some very boring scenes and obvious metaphorical scenes- Jonathan puts a frame around his neck, indicating to everyone he is being "framed," his illness and his killing get worse as the film goes on.

This film has been remade as "Ripley's Game," the original novel's title, with John Malkovich as Ripley. The preview for that film makes more sense than this ponderous adaptation. (* *) out of five stars.

*Get a physical copy of "The American Friend" on Amazon here*

Bulls Hit!: "American Bullfighter" (2004)

This heartfelt documentary chronicles a man's struggle with alcoholism, and his decision to replace the addictive properties of alcohol with the addictive properties of fighting bulls. Ironically, you would have to ply me with liquor to get me to stand in a ring with a thousand pound animal, having only a tablecloth and a litter-stick at my disposal.

Alex LeMay was born in the United States, but was raised overseas thanks to his father's teaching jobs. Alex's happiest time was in Spain, where bullfighting was his baseball. Later, he also bottomed out in Spain at the age of 34, an alcoholic. Back in the States, Alex signs on to the only American, and English-speaking, bullfighting academy in the world. It is based in San Diego (in a cul-de-sac) and run by the passionate Coleman Cooney. Alex gets to know his fellow students: scientist Dave, quiet South Korean Yung June, and female Kelly (in a field that isn't exactly open to women). Bullfighting training begins, and Coleman puts his students through intensive exercises that look silly at first, until the group travels to Mexico to meet their first small cows in the ring. Dave and Alex get bumped around, but Kelly does very well. Next, the troupe heads to Spain, and frustrations begin to rise. While Alex is doing a great job staying sober, nerves are frayed, the animals are bigger, and before the film ends, Alex gets some bad news from his father.

Shot on what looks like very simple video cameras, Alex LeMay has put together a very good film. While the focus is on him, he gives more than enough screen time to the other students at the academy, Coleman, and even explains Spanish language bullfighting terminology. His narration is deadpan without being boring, and you find yourself rooting for everyone involved. LeMay acknowledges that bullfighting is a controversial sport, although the word "sport" lessens this Spanish cultural tradition that has been around for centuries. The bulls killed are butchered for their meat, but LeMay doesn't let his cameras dwell on the gorier side of bullfighting. He generates actual suspense over the smallest events, but I was spellbound all the way. While I was enjoying the film, and learning all sorts of things about bullfighting (one subject calls bullfighting "controlling huge violent animals with pieces of cloth"), I was frustrated by my lack of knowledge of the documentary's main subject. Who is Alex LeMay? What happened when he hit bottom in Barcelona? I only learned in the closing moments that his father was a professor. I wanted LeMay to tell us more about LeMay, so we could really get behind him, so to speak, when he gets into a three hundred year old bull ring with his parents watching him.

"American Bullfighter" bounced around the festival circuit before being released on DVD, and I hope you'll seek it out. You'll never watch the 1953 Warner Brothers classic cartoon "Bully for Bugs" the same way again. Also known as "The Bulls of Suburbia." (* * * *) out of five stars.

*Get a physical copy of "American Bullfighter" on Amazon here*

Don't Chase This Ambulance: "The Ambulance" (1990)

Some film reviewers have been accused of giving away too much plot in their synopses- spoilers that ruin the film for the audience. "The Ambulance" marks the first time I found a film where a writer/director mucked up his own work with a spoiler.

**SPOILERS** Josh (Eric Roberts) spots Cheryl (Janine Turner) on the streets and turns on the charm, trying to pick her up. Cheryl is polite but tries to brush him off, before suddenly collapsing. She is diabetic, and Josh promises to visit her in the hospital when the ambulance arrives to take her away. The problem is, Josh cannot find Cheryl. He tries local hospitals, the hospital the anonymous ambulance attendee gave, and no one has seen or heard of her. Josh goes to nutty police lieutenant Spencer (James Earl Jones), but he is of no help. Josh does meet Spencer's cute assistant officer Sandra (Megan Gallagher), but must still look for Cheryl on his own. Josh is a comic book artist, giving Stan Lee a completely unnecessary cameo, and draws posters of Cheryl, eventually attracting her diabetic roommate. Josh and the roommate go to a place Cheryl has told them to go in a frantic phone message, and the old ambulance takes the roommate, too. The cops still don't believe Josh, and he himself ends up in the hospital next to old newspaper reporter Elias (Red Buttons). Elias believes him, and saves Josh from the evil ambulance crew. They escape the hospital, conveniently find the ambulance, and now we watch Elias get taken. Sandra finally believes him, and the pair track the ambulance. Josh is mugged, the damn ambulance FINALLY gets him, Josh escapes, and the final mission and crazed doctor's motive is revealed- well, that reveal happened about ten minutes in. **SPOILER SPOILERS** Here is where I spoil the spoiler. While the viewer must sit and watch Josh escape from all of these perilous situations, we already know why the ambulance is picking people up. Immediately after Cheryl is kidnapped, the unnamed doctor (Eric Braeden) reveals his diabolical plan to her, thereby killing any suspense for the rest of the film.

I was half-expecting something along the lines of "Christine," with a creepy mysterious old ambulance picking up unsuspecting New Yorkers, who are never seen again. Instead, Cohen opts for a standard action script. There is nothing supernatural about the whole thing. Eric Roberts is very good as Josh, and his comic timing with some of the throw away one-liners makes them funnier than they really are. Megan Gallagher makes Sandra a smart cop, never committing a stupid mistake just to draw out the film's action or running time. James Earl Jones and Red Buttons are a little sad in their respective roles, it is hard to watch Oscar worthy talent like this reduced to crazy and foul mouthed roles just to pay the bills. Cohen's action sequences are very good. Watching that huge ambulance careening through the streets of New York City is a spectacle. However, with his own spoiler in the opening moments of the film, watching Roberts run around and get beat up for an hour and a half really wears on the nerves. By the time Josh is held in another police precinct as a witness on a murder unrelated to the film's plot, I gave up.

"The Ambulance" held a lot of potential and an interesting cast, too bad it could not hold my attention. (* 1/2) out of five stars.

*Get a physical copy of "The Ambulance" on Amazon here*

Slave to the Sleaze: "White Slave" (1985)

This review contains spoilers. Kathy (Elvire Audray) is your typical rubber plantation owner's daughter. Though schooling in England, she returns to the Amazon for summer vacation with her parents and scheming aunt and uncle. Her parents are killed and beheaded, and she is kidnapped by a native tribe. She must do the bidding of the old guy in the tribe before he is killed by the hottie warrior who has fallen in love with her, and who she thinks killed her parents. Kathy integrates herself into the tribe, learning the language and local customs. She figures out, a year after we do, that her aunt and uncle killed her parents, her adopted tribe ONLY beheaded them. She goes back for some bloody revenge, is arrested, and the film is a flashback of her trial. In the end, she is all respectable and such, but still pines for the fjords...I mean, the jungle.

This is pure unadulterated exploitation. The blood flows freely and the clothes drop often. The Italian director took a pseudonym in the credits, always a good sign, and most of the cast names are bastardized English versions of their original names. We are treated to not one but four on-camera beheadings. The lead actress is topless for the last three quarters of the film. There is sexual assault, helicopters, blow guns, the trial, cannibals, and an alligator attack. This is also one bad film. The film makers have the gumption to swear this is based on a true story, showing semi-documentary scenes that are obviously staged. This makes "Midnight Express" look like "Monsters, Inc."

Not much else can be said about this. It's gross, graphic, and strangely watchable. I will not recommend it, but if Ilsa of the SS is your type of thing, give "White Slave" a try- also known under about half a dozen other titles. (*) out of five stars.

*Get a physical copy of "White Slave" on Amazon here*

Book Review: The Civil War: Strange & Fascinating Facts by Burke Davis

Despite the title, these strange and fascinating facts may interest Civil War buffs, and not many others. Davis, the author of several history books, takes the little stories and factoids he has collected in research and puts them all here in small anecdotes. To appreciate the value of these stories, the reader should have more than a passing knowledge of the Civil War. Many names, dates, and battles are tossed around by an author who knows his subject, and requires his readers to know some, too.

The stories here are very entertaining, covering various subjects. The Civil War was full of "firsts," first: successful submarine, hospital ships, tobacco and cigarette taxes, and U.S. presidential assassination. The book also mentions Confederate States president Jefferson Davis more than Abraham Lincoln, possibly because Davis is barely a footnote in high school history books today. Stonewall Jackson, Ulysses Grant, and Robert E. Lee are also profiled. One entertaining chapter debunks many myths surrounding Grant's drunken war behavior. Davis also gets serious, writing about widespread venereal disease, and atrocities committed on civilians, on both sides.

Davis' book was published in 1960, and the publishers decided to reprint the book many times without updating it. Davis mentions the upcoming centennial of the war, and descendants of the major figures of the war and what they are doing today, or at least today many decades ago. Another drawback is the lack of an index, leaving a serious researcher to have to skim the book looking for useful information. The author mentions prices for Civil War memorabilia at current auction prices- again from many decades ago. Davis writes that more people lost their lives in the Civil War than in all the wars from the Revolution to our most current conflict- Korea. I will recommend this book as a cursory page turner. As a displaced Texan who descends from Confederate soldiers, I appreciated Davis' balanced view of both sides of the conflict. Too often today we lose sight of the fact that over 600,000 people lost their lives in this war, and not many people know much about it. (* * * 1/2) out of five stars.

*Get a physical copy of The Civil War: Strange & Fascinating Facts on Amazon here*

Book Review: Famous Movie Stars and Directors by Joseph Stewart

I had reviewed the nightmarish book from Santa Monica Press entitled Guide to Home Video and Movies by someone named Ryan Reed. That self-proclaimed ultimate video guide was full of misspellings and absent films, and an embarrassment to all the better video guides out there. At the same thrift store where I picked up that tome, I found Famous Movie Stars and Directors by Joseph Stewart. Also from Santa Monica Press, also exactly 128 pages, this sad book did not have as many misspellings, but the factual errors alone make it an awful choice for anyone out there writing a film studies paper, interested in movies, or just looking for a brief read.

This book is a collection of one and a half page profiles of well-known performers and directors- at least well-known when this was published in 1993. I decided to bring up some of the glaring errors from the Actor section only because if I corrected everything here, I would have enough material for a book of my own. I will mention that Faye Dunaway has been rechristened Faye "Dunawaye" every time she is written about, including the table of contents and her own profile.

From Dustin Hoffman's entry: "Hoffman has been nominated for four Academy Awards, for his performances as Ben Braddock in The Graduate (1967), Ratso Rizzo in Midnight Cowboy (1969), Lenny Bruce in Lenny (1974), and Raymond in Rain Man (1988). He finally won for this last film..." Good for Dustin, except he won his first Oscar for 1979's "Kramer vs. Kramer", and was also nominated for "Tootsie". Arnold Schwarzenegger and Sylvester Stallone each get just one page for their entries. The longest entry is Bette Davis, who gets a whopping two and a half pages. Burt Reynolds' page and a half has only one of his films mentioned- "Deliverance." After naming James Stewart's films "Bell, Book, and Candle" and "Anatomy of a Murder," author Stewart writes "Arguably, he has not had a significant role since these films..." Pardon me while I get arguable, but did our author simply forget about "The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance," "How the West Was Won," "Shenandoah," "The Flight of the Phoenix," "The Shootist," and "Airport '77," or did he not possess the simplest film reference book?

Finally, he gets John Wayne, one of my favorite actors, all wrong. Back to the work: "Throughout the 1940's, he appeared in several uninspired movies, mostly Westerns and war films." While most of Wayne's output in the 1940's was Westerns and war films, see if you recognize some of these "uninspired" flicks: "Flying Tigers," "They Were Expendable," "Angel and the Badman," "Fort Apache," "She Wore a Yellow Ribbon," and his uninspired Oscar-nominated role in the uninspired "Sands of Iwo Jima." Whether a Wayne fan or not, you have to agree that Joseph Stewart has no idea what he is talking about, and Leonard Maltin, master of the film guide, had nothing to worry about.

So what did I do with these horrible reads? I donated them to the local library in my former hometown for their annual book sale. This was decades ago, but I'm willing to bet the quarter each I paid for these that they never sold. (1/2 *) out of five stars.

*Get a physical copy of Famous Movie Stars and Directors on Amazon here*

Book Review: Gothic: Four Hundred Years of Excess, Horror, Evil, and Ruin by Richard Davenport-Hines

Subtitled "Four Hundred Years of Excess, Horror, Evil, and Ruin," this book is not what you should buy for your weird teen Goth nephew who wears a nose ring, black fingernail polish, listens to Marilyn Manson, and hangs out at the food court in the mall. Davenport-Hines' book is strictly a historic work, tracing Gothicism from the Middle Ages to today. While most of the book is interesting, the field is so big that the author can only bring surface examples to light without analyzing them too deeply. He has a section on the music of the Cure, and the literature of Poppy Z. Brite, but chose not to, or just could not, interview either one of them.

The author's biggest mistake is the amount of pages spent on Gothic architecture. The first half of the book is full of castle names, earls and dukes, and is of little interest to those who want to read about the Gothic lifestyle. The author does deconstruct the literature of Edgar Allan Poe and Nathaniel Hawthorne rather well, in addition to a myriad of British authors whose names I am not familiar with, but might be interested in now. His coverage of Gothic art is average. The book includes photographs of many pieces of art, but the author must resign himself to describing pieces he could not include in the pictures, leading to reader frustration. I do slightly recommend this book, but do not be fooled by its dark cover. This covers four hundred years of Gothic HISTORY (despite the cover and marketing), not four hundred years of your emo nephew hanging out at the mall and listening to Marilyn Manson, who is not covered here. (* * *) out of five stars.

*Get a physical copy of Gothic: Four Hundred Years of Excess, Horror, Evil, and Ruin on Amazon here*

Book Review: Turn Back the Night by Jennifer Drew

Jennifer Drew is the pen name for a mother-daughter writing team. This is a relief, since I cannot imagine just one person could come up with a romance novel this unromantic. I got this paperback in a box of books I bought from a local recycling center. It mentioned a ghost hunter on the back, so I figured this might be a cut above some of the pulp Harlequin/Silhouette is known to publish. I was wrong.

Dawn is a Chicago resident who goes to visit her sister Laura in the boonies of rural Wisconsin. Dawn is an antiques mall manager and dealer, and her business partner's name is Jane. Laura's husband Gary is away on business in Japan, leaving Laura in a large country farmhouse on her own. All of the aforementioned facts pelt the reader in the first two pages of exposition. Also staying at the house is a psychologist, Aaron. It seems Laura heard some strange noises one night, and immediately called Aaron to investigate the paranormal phenomenon. Dawn is immediately suspicious of Aaron's motives, but attracted to Aaron. Aaron is just trying to help Laura, but is attracted to Dawn. Laura is a worrywart, and doesn't have a clue. The following one hundred pages are an absolute waste of paper. Aaron investigates, Dawn is suspicious of everything, yet the two kiss and fall in love. The grand finale is scareless and predictable.

One of the many problems is that Aaron, Dawn, and Laura are the only characters for dozens of pages, and they are not interesting enough to read about. The authors also have an irritating way of switching points of view, even on the same page, so you are reading about Dawn's sexy summer outfit, her ability to bid well at auctions, and her thick brown facial hair- before realizing Dawn is now describing Aaron. Another annoyance: one character will ask a simple question like "do you really believe in ghosts?", and by the time the characters bombard the reader with their internal thoughts, everyone's clothing is described, vocal inflections are analyzed, and the two lovers make goo-goo eyes at each other, someone answers "I can't answer that question," and you must turn back the page to remind yourself what the original query was in the first place. "Turn Back the Night" is one hundred and eighty five pages of hot air. I had a relative who used to plow through this type of novel in a couple of hours, it took me three weeks to read this. (1/2 *) out of five stars.

*Get a physical copy of Turn Back the Night on Amazon here*

Book Review: Hollywood Babylon II by Kenneth Anger

These days, the Golden Age of Cinema (the 1930's-1950's) seems pretty tame. Everyday people humiliate themselves on reality television just to achieve fleeting recognition. The names disappear into our attention-deficient collective and we latch on to the next Contender or Idol or Masked Whatever or the sad woman Who Wants To Marry My Dad. Thank goodness for Kenneth Anger. While the internet allows us to replay celebrity "news" ad nauseam, we must rely on faded memories and rumors when it comes to those icons we normally see in black-and-white on basic cable television. Then came "Hollywood Babylon."

As a child, Anger appeared in the 1935 film "A Midsummer Night's Dream," and grew up in Tinseltown, eventually becoming know for his avant-garde film work like "Scorpio Rising." He was privy to many a juicy story, and dragged many a skeleton out of the closet in the book. Every film fan knows a big hit deserves a sequel, and in 1984, a tinted photo of a fat Liz Taylor beckons us into the world of "Hollywood Babylon II". Here, while Anger defends that he in fact does like movies, we are again privy to over three hundred pages of often hilarious gossip, which I easily went through in one sitting.

It does help to have some knowledge of classic Hollywood. I have seen actor Paul Kelly in many a picture, and had no idea he once served time for manslaughter. The name Pantages is synonymous with grand movie palaces, but I never knew Joseph Kennedy once framed Alexander Pantages on assault charges. Was gay George Cukor really fired from "Gone With the Wind" so Clark Gable could get manly man director Victor Fleming to do the job right and turn this chick flick into an action-studded romance? Or did Cukor have some knowledge that a younger Gable would submit to some same sex situations in order to further his career?

While most of the dirt flung is serious (the Black Dahlia murder complete with explicit crime scene photos, a whole section on who committed suicide and how), Anger rises above it all with morbidly colorful writing. On choreographer/director/drunk vehicular manslaughter criminal Busby Berkeley: "He made surrealistic, voyeuristic, erotic musical dream fantasies which made eyes pop and pr!cks stand up around the world." On the two women who betrayed character actor Lionel Atwill's confidence and blabbed about his infamous house orgies:"...two Judases in skirts did their best to drag their host by the short hairs all the way up the hill to Golgotha." When speaking of James Dean, Anger asks: "And yet, today, if Richard Gere, or Matt Dillon- or any of the other members of the boring regiment of James Dean clonettes spewed out by Francis Ford Coppola in 'The Outsiders'- were to suffer Dean's fate, would cults arise, fans commit suicide, would mash notes arrive thirty years after their demise? Doubtful." Anger shows no love for Gloria Swanson (celebrating her death in a strange half page rant), Joan Crawford (publishing nude photos from her modeling days), or the Reagans (we are all going to die in a nuclear holocaust that never came about).

Another sequel to complete a trilogy has not been forthcoming, Anger died, so we must live with this forbidden volume, readily available at some public libraries, and suffer through today's celebrity marketing: which celebrity starlet (otherwise famous for nothing) has been seen in a recently discovered (but by no means planted) sex tape or "hacked" nude photos? Color me bored, I'd rather read about the mind-blowing coupling of Tallulah Bankhead and Hattie McDaniel any old day. (* * * * *) out of five stars.

*Get a physical copy of Hollywood Babylon II on Amazon here*

Book Review: Edward Albee: A Singular Journey by Mel Gussow

The late Edward Albee, the author of "Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?," and other plays, is given a deluxe biographical treatment here from a man who has known him for almost forty years- and sometimes worships him a little too much. Albee was adopted by a wealthy, emotionless set of parents. His father, Reed, was absent, and his mother, Frankie, was cool and detached. This upbringing, where he was seen more as a possession than a family member, would, of course, affect his writings. Constantly kicked out of schools, and never graduating from college, Albee turned to writing, his first success being "Zoo Story."

"Zoo Story," a short play about a fateful meeting of two men in a park, received mixed notices from assorted playwrights and critics. Here, biographer Gussow overextends his protection of his subject too much. He dismisses the honest critiques of two playwriting giants- Thornton Wilder and William Inge, because they did not understand or like Albee's works. However, a bland positive response by Samuel Beckett is treated like a Dead Sea Scroll, to be picked apart and treasured. I have read "Zoo Story," and it is wordy and preachy. Albee's next big success was "Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?," which was turned into the powerhouse film by Mike Nichols. Again, Gussow is flagrant in his criticism of someone involved with the film in order to placate Albee and Nichols. The film's screenwriter, Ernest Lehman, is harshly criticized for opening the play slightly, yet just copying Albee's words. The bio's author, and Albee, make a point of needling Lehman's screenwriting credit on the film. Mike Nichols' former partner, Elaine May, copied the French film "La Cage Aux Folles" word for word, adding what could be described as copious scenes at best, then took a big giant screenwriting credit for Nichols' "The Birdcage." Watch both of those films back to back sometime, it is eye opening.

Gussow also fumbles in his outline of Albee's life. In Albee's less successful years, he is writing weird experimental plays with subjects like a man with three arms, and one play where two of the characters are sea creatures. After mounting all of these failures, Albee is defended endlessly by Gussow, who suddenly contributes an entire chapter about Albee's alcoholism. The alcohol is both a reason his plays were not celebrated, and a defense of the brilliant man. The entire beginning of the book chronicles the complete lack of love Albee's parents had for him, yet the death of Albee's father is glossed over and barely mentioned. I had to reread the sentence a few times, since no followup is made about Albee's reaction. A whole chapter is devoted to his mother's demise, and her revenge on her own son in her will. More is written about a frustrated musician who was one of Albee's former lovers and honest critics; this "A Star is Born" redux reads nicely. Gussow does do well in describing Albee's assorted forays into theater, as playwright and director. Dirt about Donald Sutherland and Frank Langella is dished. The bio's author is honest in Albee's lacking skills as a director, coming to the theater as a playwright and not an actor.

Albee, who preferred to be called a writer who is gay, as opposed to a gay writer, also has kind words for his longtime partner of over twenty years. Albee says a gay writer writes about being gay, whether the work is good or not is moot, since the writer knows the subject and is putting in the final word. A writer who is gay is not tied down to just homosexual topics, and is free to explore society without audiences looking for gay subtexts that do not exist. "Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?" is a searing look at two heterosexual couples, the sexuality of the playwright is not essential in light of his characters and their actions. Gussow wisely keeps talk of Albee's lesser known plays, and the ones readers probably have not read anyway, to a minimum. Albee's triumphant comeback play, "Three Tall Women," is covered extensively. The play is about his mother, and so much more. Reading this biography will make you curious to seek out some of Albee's other plays, just to see what makes him tick. He was definitely an interesting man, and Gussow does catch that fact better than anything. I recommend this book to theater lovers, and any writer who needs a little inspiration. (* * * 1/2) out of five stars.

*Get a physical copy of Edward Albee: A Singular Journey on Amazon here*

Book Review: Rich Dad's Retire Young, Retire Rich: How to Get Rich Quickly and Stay Rich Forever! by Robert T. Kiyosaki with Sharon L. Lechter

If you have seen the old infomercials Robert Kiyosaki has made about retiring and making millions of dollars, you get the gist of this book. It is a three hundred and thirty five page ad for all of his other products under his Rich Dad moniker. Most frustrating is Kiyosaki's complete lack of skills as a writer. He freely admits he is not a great writer, and proceeds to prove it. He repeats himself constantly throughout the book, and writes pages of dialogue scenes he swears are from memory, but play like the worst staged scenes in an aforementioned infomercial.

Kiyosaki manipulates the reader with his constant berating. If you are doubtful of his methods, or if you question whether you can go running out and buying real estate with no money down, then that is your problem. You are wrong, and he is right. I was consistently made to feel stupid as I read this thing, and that was confirmed by the authors' smug attitude toward people who actually must work for a living.

Kiyosaki doesn't get specific about how to retire young and rich. He dances around the subject, throwing out little helpful hints here and there, but never gets down to the brass tacks when it comes to sitting down and doing it. Recommending I go to seminars and hire a bookkeeper are lovely ideas but then what? If anyone is retiring young and rich, it is the people behind this book length ad for other get-rich-quick products. If anything, reading this will inspire you to go it on your own, and ignore the advice of "experts" like this. Don't waste your money, or self-esteem, and avoid "Rich Dad's Retire Young, Retire Rich." (* 1/2) out of five stars.

*Get a physical copy of Rich Dad's Retire Young, Retire Rich: How to Get Rich Quickly and Stay Rich Forever! on Amazon here*

Book Review: Verses That Hurt: Pleasure and Pain from the POEMFONE Poets, edited by Jordan Trachtenberg and Amy Trachtenberg

A few years ago a voice mail was set up in New York City, and poets were brought in every month to read a new poem everyday onto the message. Then the public could call in everyday, listen to the poem, and respond after the beep with anything they had to say. The poems were recorded on an album, and the best printed in this wonderful book.

The book came out in 1997. The poets in this book are: Penny Arcade, Tish Benson, Nicole Blackman, David Cameron, Xavier Cavazos, Todd Colby, Matthew Courtney, M. Doughty, Kathy Ebel, Anne Elliot, Janice Erlbaum, Allen Ginsberg, John Giorno, John S. Hall, Bob Holman, Christian X. Hunter, Shannon Ketch, Bobby Miller, Wanda Phipps, Lee Renaldo, Shut-Up Shelley, Hal Sirowitz, Sparrow, Spiro, Edwin Torres, and Emily XYZ. All the poets get at least three poems, and very good portraits by photographer Christian Lantry. The poems are short enough that you can probably get through this in one sitting, or read a poet or poem a day.

Penny Arcade starts the book off with a bang, using some really incredible verse. Tish Benson is next with poems that read like lazy blues songs, but filled with so much detail and activity, you can almost hear Billie Holliday gruffly whispering this in your ear. Nicole Blackman and her section is also incredible as she seems to speak for so many women who cannot find their own voice except hers. David Cameron's writing, while readable, is a little bland, like a freshman creative writing class. Despite his obvious emotion, I felt he was holding back. Xavier Cavazos's section is slightly better, except for an entire poem that slams Rush Limbaugh. It may have been very clever when written and read, but it just give Conservatives more ammunition to go after art that they do not like. Todd Colby does better work with paragraph poems than traditional verse poetry. Matthew Courtney reads like poorly written Allen Ginsberg, full of "shocking" imagery and without a point. M. Doughty's work is scary and involving, and not your traditional stuff. Kathy Ebel left me with no response. I read it, I was done, and I was not moved. Anne Elliot reads like poorly written Matthew Courtney. Janice Erlbaum is wonderful, filling a sonnet and sestina with modern situations, turning antiquity on its ear. Ginsberg is Ginsberg. Being a little familiar with his work, I expected to see poems about sex, followed by verses about a frog- Ginsberg is so Ginsberg. John Giorno's two poems are shocking, about more sex, and taking drugs. He seems to be shocking without TRYING to be shocking, I guess you could say his shock is natural?

John S. Hall also seems to be writing without getting to the heart of his point. His verse is so much posturing. Bob Holman is a bit of a bore, with quite a few poems here. Again, none stuck with me. Christian X. Hunter takes me into his world and it was hard to get out. He is probably my favorite poet here. Shannon Ketch reads like John S. Hall. Bobby Miller's very personal poems made me nostalgic for a time I could never experience. He writes about his first sexual experience and protesting Vietnam so vividly, you swear you are there. Wanda Phipps opens with an angry poem, and never lets up. She is not threatening, but she has a lot to say. Lee Ranaldo also did not do it for me, his listed words seemed glossy and packaged. Shut-Up Shelley is fun because she is so different. Her changing font size on the page just screams at you, yet her photograph by Lantry shows her so whimsically. She is my second favorite poet here. Hal Sirowitz is my third favorite poet here, writing deeply personal poems about everyday things that had an obvious effect on his life. He is a blast to read aloud. Sparrow is weird. His first poem, involving possible sex with a cow, is a hoot, and his possible middle names for Bill Gates is a riot. Spiro is also very funny, especially his opening poem about heroin addiction. Edwin Torres also had me scratching my head for a while after I read him. His poetry is not hard, just inaccessible, and I was not interested enough in what he was saying to dig deeper. Emily XYZ reads like good Edwin Torres.

The 26 poets here are quite a variety, and I recommend this tome to any poetry lovers. I also repeat my mantra to read more poetry and keep buying those little chapbooks you might see in used bookstores or at flea markets. There is always time in your day to smarten up. This does contain a lot of profanity, drug references, and sexual content, so giving it to your five year old to practice reading may not be a good idea. (* * * *) out of five stars.

*Get a physical copy of Verses That Hurt: Pleasure and Pain from the POEMFONE Poets on Amazon here*

Book Review: Shot in the Heart by Mikal Gilmore

This nonfiction effort, written by the younger brother of executed murderer Gary Gilmore of "The Executioner's Song" fame is one of the best books ever written about the downfall of a family. Gilmore delves into the lives of his parents and brothers. His father, Frank Sr., was an older man who would run scams and con games, moving from town to town. He also married a half dozen times and fathered as many children under different aliases. Mikal's mother, Bessie, was a Mormon who grew up in another strange family, filled with death, and belief in hauntings and spirits. Both parents beat their first three sons unmercifully. Frank Jr., Gary, and Gaylen seemed like normal little boys until their parents got done with them.

Mikal was the fourth son born, and probably got better treatment than the others. Frank Jr. disappeared after his brother Gary's execution, and was missing from Mikal's life for about ten years. Gary Gilmore spent most of his life in reform school and prison, before murdering two young men in Provo and being executed in Utah by firing squad. Gary's experiences in reform school, especially on his first night, is so horrible it is hard to forget, especially considering this is happening to children. Gaylen was the third son, and almost as much of a criminal as Gary. He would end up dying young, the roundabout result of a mysterious stabbing that would not heal.

Gilmore's book, coming in at over 400 pages, is a fast-paced read. He never tries to explain his brothers' behavior, and he does not defend them, he merely lays out the facts of their family's upbringing, and the reader experiences the shocking life the Gilmores went through. Mikal talks about his own experiences, and how his love of music eventually led to his career as a music journalist, writing for Rolling Stone.

There are revelations here that would seem right at home on a daytime soap opera if they were not real. Paternity, babies thought dead, extramarital affairs, greed- all are covered here, but in a manner that makes these incidents very sad. Reality television and old "Jerry Springer"-type "talk shows" take these same kinds of lives and turn them into a big joke and ratings booster, but when Mikal spits a half page venomous paragraph about an offhand comment by Maury Povich of "A Current Affair," you realize those shows are put on the air to hurt, not inform or enlighten. "Shot in the Heart" is a terrific book, and might be able to help put your own family's problems in perspective. Mikal Gilmore has written a powerful and passionate book about a subject he knows better than anyone. Later dramatized in a film. (* * * * *) out of five stars.

*Get a physical copy of Shot in the Heart on Amazon here*

Book Review: An American Dream by Norman Mailer

Stephen Rojack is a former congressman, a contemporary of John F. Kennedy, a popular TV talk show host- and he has just strangled his estranged wife to death. To cover his crime, he tosses her out a tenth story window, then meets up with a gangster's moll/lounge singer named Cherry. If ever a character was written to be played by Charlize Theron, this is it. The police suddenly drop their suspicions of murder against Rojack because they have bigger fish to fry- namely some of Cherry's mobster friends. The novel takes a look at a day and a half in the life of Rojack, following his rendezvous with Cherry, Ruta (his wife's maid), and his eventual meeting with his wife's father, culminating with his own high rise theatrics.

This book moves very fast. The reader loves to hate Rojack. The novel is from his point of view, so we see the inner workings of his alcohol-soaked mind. Mailer's descriptions are lucid, dense, and brilliant. You feel like you are in 1963 New York City, running from the police, smelling the smells of the squad room, and making love to exotic women. What does not work here are the kind of mobsters that were threatening in 1963, but come off like characters in a bad mafia comedy today. There is a subplot involving some of the characters' involvement in the CIA that is also dated, and Mailer's attempts at magical fantasies that Rojack takes us on in his mind are over-the-top and dull. Other reviews I have read have mentioned this is a good starter to a Mailerphyte, and I would agree. "An American Dream" is entertaining, but not a perfect tome. Also adapted into a film. (* * * 1/2) out of five stars.

*Get a physical copy of An American Dream on Amazon here*

Book Review: Don't Sweat the Small Stuff...and it's all small stuff by Dr. Richard Carlson

Dr. Richard Carlson has the best intentions in this fluff-filled little book, suggesting to people how to live a stress-free, happy life. Unfortunately, Carlson often doubles up on his suggestions and offers up some strange strategies that often conflict with his own sage advice.

There are 100 little one-and-two page strategies to improve your life. The title comes from some advice Carlson was once given, that many little things in our lives are blown up into huge things. However, Carlson gives the exact same length to topics like being nice to others as he does to the joys of taking care of a house plant. It often is not enough. In one strategy, he will suggest listening to another's problems and letting them vent, and then later suggest not trying to solve everyone's problems. We should spend all of our free time with those we love, but keep time out for yourself. Cut back on your activities and reflect, yet get involved with charity and service and give something back. Carlson will often repeat topics as well, mentioning the same Mother Teresa quote twice. One of his strategies calls on the reader to write heartfelt letters telling others how much you love them. If I received a letter like this from someone I have not had much contact with lately, I would be more worried about whether that person was saying goodbye to this cruel world than anything else. I had seen Carlson on TV talk shows (he died far too young in 2006), and he came off as very knowledgeable and sincere, but after many dozen one and two page strategies, your eyes will finally glaze over as the helpful sap gets a little deep.

Don't sweat the small stuff, and this book is just that. I cannot recommend it. (* *) out of five stars.

*Get a physical copy of Don't Sweat the Small Stuff...and it's all small stuff on Amazon here*

Book Review: Tijuana Bibles: Art and Wit in America's Forbidden Funnies, 1930s-1950s by Bob Adelman

From the 1930's through the 1950's, small eight page underground comics were distributed all over the United States. They were crudely drawn, even more crudely written, and usually involved popular icons of the day engaged in sexual acts, accompanied with some very blue humor in the form of dirty jokes and puns. These were called Tijuana Bibles, and also known as Eight-Pagers, Two-by-Fours, Gray-Backs, Bluesies, Jo-Jo Books, Tillie-and-Mac Books, Jiggs-and-Maggie Books, and F**k Books, this according to introduction writer Art Spiegelman. Author Bob Adelman has collected dozens of these rare bits of cartoon history and republished them here, adding a commentary by Richard Merkin, and putting these into a quasi-historical and sociological context.

Ever wonder what Popeye looked like while having sex? What about Donald Duck and Minnie Mouse talking dirty? What did Cary Grant and Alger Hiss look like during lovemaking? All of this and more are here. This book does a better job of reprinting the Tijuana Bibles than anything, but reading a bunch of them in a row gets very tedious. The introduction warns against this, as well. The drawings are often very crude, and the humor is very old, since their prime era was in the 1930's. Also, all but a few of the artists were anonymous, and the printings were not done in the exotic locales of Havana, Tijuana, or London as the little booklets claimed, but probably in some basement with a mob type watching over the production.

This is not just a book of dirty pictures, but a very interesting look at what the author calls early sex education. While body parts are rather exaggerated, young men could look at these in the days before government and school sponsored sex-ed, transitioning, and indoctrination and have a vague idea of what to do. If you have any of these dirty little books around, then hold on to them, they are rare. If you have this overview of the history of Tijuana Bibles around, keep it away from the kids, unless they are curious about the sex lives of Dick Tracy or Dagwood Bumstead. I recommend this thin book to anyone who claims to be a fan of underground comics, or erotic art and cartoons. (* * * *) out of five stars.

*Get a physical copy of Tijuana Bibles: Art and Wit in America's Forbidden Funnies, 1930s-1950s on Amazon here*

Book Review: Legends and Lies: Great Mysteries of the American West by Dale L. Walker

In twelve chapters, Walker touches on a dozen great mysteries of Western lore. He does not set out to solve any of them, but think again if you expect this book to do nothing but regurgitate old facts. You may have heard of many of the stories in this book, since more than a few of them have been subjects of documentaries, especially on cable television. The "real" death of Davy Crockett, what happened at the Battle of Little Big Horn, and who is buried in Jesse James' tomb have all been covered, too, which lends credence to Walker's research. But what about some cases you learned about in school, and find out later things may not have happened the way your teacher said?

I am writing of the strange suicide of famed explorer Meriwether Lewis in Tennessee in 1809. All my life, I was told he killed himself, and that was that. Reading Walker's book, we find he killed himself after being attacked by an unknown assailant. He was shot in the head, exposing his brain, and offed himself before anyone else could come back and finish the job. Whether he was murdered or committed suicide is still debated today. You may know that writer Ambrose Bierce wandered into revolutionary Mexico, and was never seen alive again, but did you know Boston Corbett, the man who killed John Wilkes Booth, also vanished in the American heartland? Or Black Bart, the famed stagecoach robber, disappeared somewhere on the west coast? What about the strange two deaths of Lewis and Clark's guide, Sacajawea? Or the Mountain Meadows Massacre, where Mormon Church militia members and local Native Americans wiped out close to one hundred and fifty members of a wagon train, all because of lies and rumors spread about these people all over Utah? Was Jesse James really shot in the 1880's? Did Billy the Kid really die in Arizona? Or did both men live into their nineties, getting to know each other in their new lives, and reluctantly coming out in the 1930's and 1940's? Okay, according to DNA testing, that is Jesse in his grave, lending little help to Brushy Bill Roberts' claims that he was Billy the Kid.

Living in North Dakota, I have always had an interest in Western history. George Custer left his house near present-day Mandan and died in Montana. Lewis and Clark and Sacajawea (or Sakakawea, as we know her) spent winters up here, also near Mandan, on their trek west and back. Teddy Roosevelt, after his mother and wife died on the same day, came to ranch near Medora, claiming he never would have had the courage to become president if it was not for his trials and tribulations in North Dakota.

Walker's book is interesting, even to laypeople who just have a passing interest in American history. The twelve chapters are evenly paced and never dull. There is an immense bibliography at the back of the book. A kind foreword by John Jakes, and Walker then plunges us into the "old days," writing expertly and with enough description to read like fine fiction. "Legends and Lies" is a fantastic starting point if you want to start reading more about Western history. There is such a variety of true stories, you can pick and choose your subject and become an armchair expert like I thought I was, until this book opened my eyes and has forced me to do some more reading. A good book will do that to you. (* * * * 1/2) out of five stars.

*Get a physical copy of Legends and Lies: Great Mysteries of the American West on Amazon here*

Book Review: Come Swiftly to Your Love: Love Poems of Ancient Egypt, translated by Ezra Pound and Noel Stock

This very thin book of poetry shows us that even 3,000 years ago, men and women were going through the exact same issues we go through today when it comes to love.

Ezra Pound gets the opening verses, a piece called "Conversations in Courtship." I don't know how much liberty was taken with the placement of this conversation, but it is comical that after a few obsessive statements about a man's love for a woman, the woman barely gets to respond before we have to hear from her disapproving mother- "the mere thought of him is revolting". The couple watch each other from afar, afraid to expose their infatuation to the public. This is a nice set of lyrics that captures perfectly the internal turmoil love can bring. Some of the situations are odd- the girl being possibly passed around by the boy's friends, and the praying to multiple gods and goddesses, but Pound's voice comes through. "Love Lyrics" opens with a little more sensuality, also showing the extremes a man and a woman would go through to be with their soulmate. "More Love Lyrics" is more of the same, comparing being in love to being drunk without wine. "Pleasant Songs of the Sweetheart Who Meets You in the Fields" is a sad story of a young woman so in love, her field work suffers. She finally becomes the mistress of her man's house, first among his women, before he meets someone else. "Pleasant Songs" offers some nice fragments, while "Garden Songs" follows the courtship from the point of view of an actual garden, it seems. The problem is in the conjugation of some of the verbs, common with most of these poems. The ironically titled "Sweet Phrases" shows the downside of love. Drunkenness, infidelity, and seduction are touched upon in this angry set. "Haste" is simply two lovers trying to meet as soon as possible.

Only the opening conversation is credited to Pound, so I must assume the other verses were done by Stock. The accompanying artwork, by Tom di Grazia, is very good, and the introduction explains that while many of the poems are only found in fragments, they are presented here as complete. "Come Swiftly to Your Love: Love Poems of Ancient Egypt" is a nice, short set that can easily be read in a few minutes. It shows the reader that anything they may be going through with their respective partner are issues that have been around for millennia. Ezra Pound and Noel Stock capture that very nicely. Recommended to poetry lovers, and lovers in general. (* * * *) out of five stars.

*Get a physical copy of Come Swiftly to Your Love: Love Poems of Ancient Egypt on Amazon here*

Book Review: Movie Monsters in Scale: A Modeler's Gallery of Science Fiction and Horror Figures and Dioramas by Mark C. Glassy

Mark C. Glassy is a scientist who considers himself cancer's enemy, admirably fighting the disease through research and development of scalpel-free treatments. But on the weekends, during the early morning hours, Glassy creates monsters and aliens with his own two hands- and then displays them depending on how much shelf space he has available.

Glassy is a rabid science fiction film fan, and his love of the genre has transformed itself into model building. He started as a youngster, gave it up for a few years while in school and having a family, but took it up again with such earnestness that he now has a website and this book. He was not formally trained in art, and this interesting book is not a how-to for modelers. Glassy shows off some figures of his collection, showing his appreciation of the cinematic arts through modeling arts.

The author does cover technique, telling the reader what has worked for him over the years. While my interest wandered, waiting for the good stuff, I kept noting how much Glassy loves this hobby of his. The pictures of his models begin, and he goes in chronological order, based on a film's release. The black and white photos of silent-era monsters like 1910's Frankenstein, Nosferatu, and Lon Chaney, Sr.'s Phantom and Quasimodo, are simply stunning. Glassy gives a synopsis of the film, credits the model's sculptor when he is able to, and talks briefly about the problems and solutions involved in constructing a specific model.

Glassy spends more time on the better known films of the talkie era, like "Bride of Frankenstein" and "The Wolf Man," and even somehow has kits from the 1950's nuclear fright films consisting of giant insects, and aliens landing in Washington, DC. There are two color sections in the middle of the book, and I quickly wished the entire book was in color, since the models are so impressive.

The models begin to thin out toward the end, after covering the 1960's (the 1970's are represented by just two films), I think because from the 1970's on, there hasn't been enough interest in models of the harder science fiction and fantasy films. Hammer Studios is covered nicely, and I was most impressed with skeletal work from both "Jason and the Argonauts" and "Godzilla." Glassy mentions he is done with bones and skeletons, considering the amount of time and intensity involved.

The main drawback to the book is a functional one. Often, Glassy would be going into detailed explanations of how a model came together, and the reader must flip back or forth in the book to see the item in question. Also, aside from the two sections of color photographs, the majority of the pictures are black and white, negating Glassy's descriptions of getting a subject's coloring just right.

I built many plastic models back in elementary school, mostly vehicles and aircraft from World War II, before finding other interests. I confess that I do not have the patience to build one of those simple kits today, much less go into the kind of detail Glassy must use to bring his kits to life. His collection is a sight to behold, and his enthusiasm is infectious. You may not ever build one of these figures, but "Movie Monsters in Scale: A Modeler's Gallery of Science Fiction and Horror Figures and Dioramas" left me yearning to watch some old horror and sci-fi flicks. (* * * *) out of five stars.

*Get a physical copy of Movie Monsters in Scale: A Modeler's Gallery of Science Fiction and Horror Figures and Dioramas on Amazon here*

Book Review: H.N.I.C. by Albert 'Prodigy' Johnson with Steven Savile

Albert 'Prodigy' Johnson of the rap duo Mobb Deep creates, with Steven Savile, a short and readable piece of crime fiction.

The novella is brisk, and introduces the reader to Pappy, a computer whiz looking to get out of his bleak inner-city existence for a better life in...Detroit? He is friends with the seemingly unbalanced Black, and they commit petty crimes trying to fund their drugs-and-women lifestyles. A bank job goes wrong, and Black kills a man, forcing Pappy to hang around longer to make some money to start a new life. Pappy is also concerned for Tonya, the beaten addict Black claims as his own. Following the tried-and-true formula, Black talks Pappy into committing "one last job," which is rife with double-crosses and senseless murder.

What Johnson has written here certainly felt contemporary, but the plot has been around since the days of the Old West. I don't think you are supposed to root for the criminals, but I did sympathize with Pappy's plight. The writing style spends no time on physical appearances or setting, and instead quickly throws the reader into the action. There is no "Ocean's Eleven"-type minutiae about the two robberies in the novella because the planning that goes into them are haphazard.

Full of profanity and bloody violence, Johnson tells his story efficiently. Like I said, the plot has been done before, and that is the book's main drawback. I wanted something unexpected to happen, but this familiarity was outweighed by the suspense of what would happen to Pappy. Maybe because of who Johnson is, the story felt very realistic, and you know this has happened before in real life. I don't know the musical genre rap from plastic wrap, every time I try to type "Mobb Deep," my fingers want to spell out "Mos Def," but Johnson's story is a brutal and quick read. "H.N.I.C." is also a cautionary tale, custom-made for a big screen adaptation. (* * * *) out of five stars.

*Get a physical copy of H.N.I.C on Amazon here*

Book Review: The Call of the Wild by Jack London

This short novel was another book I managed to avoid throughout junior high and high school, and now that I'm firmly ensconced in middle age, I decided to give it a go- I'm so glad I did.

Buck is a half-St. Bernard, half-shepherd dog living the lazy life with a judge and his extended family. He is kidnapped and sold by one of the judge's employees, and is shipped off to the Klondike Gold Rush, where he is mercilessly beaten and broken, and turned into a work dog. London tells Buck's story from Buck's point of view, as different owners come and go, until he finds his ideal master in John Thornton. Buck learns to survive, then thrive, but he is often drawn by an (un?)imagined call to the wild, to be as free as his wolf ancestors.

All my reading life, I was led to believe this was a mild story about a man and his dog (*yawn*), and their adventures. Instead, "The Call of the Wild" is a harsh, often violent and gory, tale of Buck's survival. This might explain the failure of some recent film adaptations, which seem to be stuck in the "family-friendly" reputation of the book. I was captivated by Buck's situations, and repulsed by the harsh realities. Reading as Buck "turns wild" is both exhilarating and melancholy. London's reputation has suffered over the past few years. He was an alcoholic, free-love-practicing Socialist who was terrible with money; and has now been charged with the ultimate cancel culture crime- racism. I'm usually able to separate the author's personal life from the written work, better than I can do the same between film makers and films, and London's words quickly made me forget any Wikipedia entries and self-righteous social media protests against a man who's been dead for over a century.

I happened upon this copy in a book lot I received a long time ago, and this edition was complete and unabridged. The foreword and afterword were written by Dwight Shain, but the afterword gets John Thornton's name wrong THREE different times on one page, which is very sloppy publishing. I don't know if I'll happen on another London story, but color me pleasantly surprised at this. (* * * *) out of five stars.

*Get a physical copy of The Call of the Wild on Amazon here*

Book Review: Star Wars: R2-D2's Mission: A Little Hero's Journey by Jane Paley

While I usually did not review my sons' books when they were growing up, this one deserved a mention, especially at the price on the back cover of the copy we had. This is a board book, with thick cardboard pages. The difference is there is a plastic R2-D2 suspended in the spine of the book by a piece of nylon string. When you open the book, there he is, as if in the action being illustrated on the pages. Cute, huh? The very, very basic story is the first "Star Wars" film, or should I write the first half of the first "Star Wars" film retold from R2-D2's point of view. We see Princess Leia put in the data, he is bought by Luke Skywalker, they are saved by Obi-Wan Kenobi, who dutifully retrieves the data. The End. The book is pretty harmless for kids, not dragging in any violence, battles, or even Darth Vader. Actually, younger kids might get a shock if they think "Star Wars" is about a cute robot and nothing more.

The plastic figure suspended on the string makes it difficult to shelve this little book. I was counting the days when the string would snap, and the story will be read with a gaping hole in the pages. The toy itself is nothing to look at, soft plastic and an assembly line paint job. The illustrations border on the "Saturday Night Live" adventures of the Ambiguously Gay Duo, not meant to do anymore than basically draw the characters to be vaguely identifiable. Obi-Wan looked like Santa Claus, and Luke Skywalker looked like Princess Diana. This book is just sixteen pages and back then cost a small fortune. Thank goodness we received this in a box of discarded toys from a cousin who had grown out of it. Any "Star Wars" fan might like this, others beware. (* *) out of five stars.

*Get a physical copy of Star Wars: R2-D2's Mission: A Little Hero's Journey on Amazon here*

The Penis Made Him Do It: "The Amazing Transplant" (1970)

Doris Wishman, to put it bluntly, was the worst film maker of all-time.

Arthur (Joao Fernandez) is having penis problems. He rapes and strangles the love of his life, Mary (Mary Lamay), and then disappears. His mother (Linda Southern) brings in her dead husband's detective brother Bill (Larry Hunter) to find Arthur before he kills again. Armed with Arthur's address book, Bill looks up some other women in Arthur's life, and finds out he assaulted them all. He also stumbles upon a tense Dr. Meade (Bernard Marcel), who finally confesses to Bill why Arthur is behaving irrationally whenever he sees a woman wearing dangly gold earrings.

Like other films I reviewed from Wishman ("Double Agent 73" and "Let Me Die a Woman"), "The Amazing Transplant" is a study in awfulness. Her camera meanders around one or two sets passing for clinics and big city apartments without any establishing shot or structure. The acting is bad across the board. To save on sound, Wishman has most of the cast deliver their lines offscreen while the camera focuses on whomever the line is being addressed to. Surprisingly, coming from a female writer/director, the film is full of rape scenes, and these victims never report Arthur to the police. The rapes are played for erotic value, as if there is such a thing, and are painful to watch. Also painful to watch is Hunter's eyebrow-arching, the only emotional trait he seems capable of. The cast seems dead inside, as if they signed on to this before realizing what was going to happen. This also might explain the high number of pseudonyms among the actors, and Wishman herself. The sexual scenes are explicit, falling just short of hardcore pornography. The film loathes its audience, treating the viewer like a half-brained moron who can't find boobies anywhere else. The DVD copy of this is surprisingly clear and looks pretty good, when you aren't rubbing your eyes and wishing this would go away.

"The Amazing Transplant" is easily one of the worst films of the 1970's. I am doubtful Wishman made a film deserving of the word "good," but I gamely plod on. (1/2 *) out of five stars.

*Get a physical copy of "The Amazing Transplant" on Amazon here*

Book Review: The Big Wave by Pearl S. Buck

The Big Wave is another story meant for children that I felt was my duty to grab. It concerns two Japanese boys but was written by Pearl S. Buck, an American-born white woman.

Kino lives with his parents and sister on a farm close to the sea shore in Japan. His best friend Jiya lives on the beach with his fishing family in a house that does not have a window looking out onto the cantankerous ocean. After a catastrophic tsunami, Kino's family takes in Jiya and teach him about farming inland, but Jiya's heart still belongs to the sometimes angry ocean.

This was the first piece I ever read written by Buck, although I loved the 1930's film "The Good Earth," which was based on her novel. This story comes in at just under sixty pages, and could have probably been expanded to a full-length novel. The writing is simple and fable-like but not simplistic, accentuating its "life is stronger than death" morale without belaboring the point. Although it could have been expanded, it works very well in its present form.

I have not read of Buck's work being changed to appease woke readers, but it could be a real possibility. Despite Buck's residence in Japan and China, "modern audiences" are on the look out for this type of work, ready to save the world from such a savage inequity. This is a strong story with universal themes, published in 1947, and should be read for its message and entertainment value. It's unfortunate that I picked it up as a defense against the thought police, but I did discover an author I could continue reading if the situation arises. (* * * *) out of five stars.

*Get a physical copy of The Big Wave on Amazon here*

Book Review: I Hate You--Don't Leave Me: Understanding the Borderline Personality by Jerold J. Kreisman, MD & Hal Straus

Borderline Personality Disorder, BPD from here on out, has quite a few symptoms that some of us might experience today: a shaky sense of identity, sudden violent outbursts, over-sensitivity to real or imagined rejection, brief and turbulent love affairs, frequent periods of intense depression, eating disorders, drug abuse, or other self-destructive tendencies, an irrational fear of abandonment, and an inability to be alone (taken from the book). I am not familiar with this particular disorder, especially in this day and age when so many different psychological disorders exist and are talked about in the mass media almost constantly. The authors lay a groundwork through examples and the above listed behaviors to introduce a disorder that is not easily solved by a magic pill or a little therapy.

However, and this is a big However, the book is marketed as a self-help book, but reads like a very difficult and very dull academic paper that was presented at a conference somewhere. The authors cover all of this material, and yet can only suggest therapy and medicinal help to solve the problem. The authors also suggest to therapists how to work with BPD patients, family and friends get advice on how to deal with BPD sufferers, but virtually ignore anyone reading this who might think they are experiencing BPD, except to talk about long therapy sessions, and how BPD sufferers may not react well to that therapy.

The book has a copyright date of 1989, and has been reprinted dozens of times, but the book's publishers never felt a need to update the text when I read it in the early 2000's, making awkward references to the Soviet Union and the Challenger explosion. Advances in anti-depressants are also ignored. With the modern cover, and reader friendly back cover notes, you might pick this up thinking "I have those symptoms, this will help." If anything this tome will lull you into complacent and calm boredom. I do not recommend I Hate You, Don't Leave Me. If you believe you are suffering from the above symptoms, you are better off seeking professional help instead of this. (* *) out of five stars.

*Get a physical copy of I Hate You--Don't Leave Me: Understanding the Borderline Personality on Amazon here*

Book Review: How to Write Horror Fiction by William F. Nolan

Who better to teach the uninitiated how to write genre fiction than the man who wrote the novel "Logan's Run"? This book is a few decades old, and a little dated here and there. Nolan covers basic mistakes made by horror writers- from indestructible villains to too many monsters to finding a happy medium between splatterpunk and mystery. Nolan takes the reader by the hand and guides them through a breakdown of his own short story, "The Pool." He provides small biographies of Stephen King, Anne Rice, and other successful horror writers, proving the point that these icons also had to get their starts somewhere. Nolan's best advice to the aspiring horror writer? READ, and read often. Do not read just horror, broaden your horizons to other genres and poetry, so all of your output does not end up sounding like the Dean R. Koontz novel you just finished. Nolan also puts incredible appendices in here, listing suggested anthologies to seek out, and perhaps he should add his own book to the list. This is very inspiring, without treating the reader like a five year old who must be led from idea to manuscript layout. Nolan stresses individuality, and the reader will appreciate that. I highly recommend this guide, which is short and can be finished in one sitting. (* * * *) out of five stars.

*Get a physical copy of How to Write Horror Fiction on Amazon here*

Book Review: The Enormous Crocodile by Roald Dahl, pictures by Quentin Blake

I've been more familiar with film and television adaptations of Roald Dahl's books than the actual books themselves. I never read them, especially after seeing the films "James and the Giant Peach," "Matilda" (1996), and "Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory;" heck, he even wrote the screenplay to "Chitty Chitty Bang Bang"- all of which I didn't like. I picked up The Enormous Crocodile out of a pile of free books on a whim. I had heard Dahl's publisher was going to start changing some of his works, and I figured I'd grab this thin Scholastic edition in case it was one of the stories in the woke's sights. It was. There are spoilers throughout the rest of the review.

Highlighted by Quentin Blake's wonderful illustrations, Dahl tells the story of an enormous crocodile who decides he's hungry for children on one fine day. He gloats to other animals in the jungle, telling them all he has "secret plans and clever tricks" to attain his meal. He finally lumbers into a town to put these plans and tricks in motion, not expecting the reactions from the animals he has gloated to.

The story is cute, probably more appropriate for grade school children than toddlers. The Enormous Crocodile doesn't learn any sort of lesson, and the ending is not one of hope and rainbows. Parallels can be drawn between the story and today's online narcissism even though this was published in 1978. A little online reading shows that the original publishers were removing the description of the children as "ugly" and "fat" and identifying them as "children," not "boys and girls." Of course, none of these changes make much sense. While new readers may not notice or care, changing Dahl's original language softens the Crocodile as the villain in the story. His dialogue already sounds more like letters written by serial killer Albert Fish than an imaginary hungry crocodile, but these few words might make a fat kid feel bad about themselves? I'm literally morbidly obese and well aware of my physical appearance, but I am doing something about it and not hoping someone will change the world around me to fit my feelings. I might pick up more Dahl as time goes on, avoiding any new woke publications. This was a nice introduction to the author, and goes into my collection of physical media untouched by the thought police. (* * * 1/2) out of five stars.

*Get a physical copy of The Enormous Crocodile on Amazon here*

Book Review: Love and Desire: Photoworks by William A. Ewing

This four hundred page volume is a follow-up to the photography book entitled "The Body," which had pictures of just that. Here, Ewing collects mostly black and white photography from the last one hundred and fifty years into the volume. He separates them according to different "genres": Bonds, Icons, Observations, Propositions, Tokens, Libidos, Reveries, and Obsession. With these genres, all collected under the broad "Love and Desire," a case could be made as to why the editor put some pictures in "Tokens," but not "Libidos." The book tries to be an overview of love in photography, but barely scratches the surface. The good news is the collection he does have is marvelous. I read the book in one sitting, the genre intros are short, but the photos here are wonderful. Ewing provides excellent credits, letting the reader try to find more work by photographers they have never heard of.

The opening introduction essay, capsulizing the history of photography is both too long and dismissive. Ewing laments the use of the camera by the common person to take family photos, not realizing that every snapshot cannot, and isn't trying to, be art. With all the photography here, the volume is one that can be picked up and perused again and again. Despite some spotty editorial choices, I highly recommend it. (* * * *) out of five stars.

*Get a physical copy of Love and Desire: Photoworks on Amazon here*

Book Review: Bush Must Go by Bill Press

(I picked up this book over a decade ago when I was being brow-beaten into "reading the other side" of my conservative political views. I'm not a big fan of Bush any longer, but I still hold this tome up as a reason to not read the other side again. I'm presenting my original review in its entirety):

While George W. Bush has not been our president since January 20, 2009, the disease Bush Derangement Syndrome will be around for a long time to come. Bush Derangement Syndrome (BDS) is a mental disorder suffered mostly by Democrats. They believe that everything wrong in the world is George W. Bush's fault. War in Iraq? Bush's fault. 9/11? Bush's fault. The economy? Bush's fault. Big giant hurricane destroys New Orleans while Louisiana state government sat on their hands? Bush's fault. Dog just pee on the rug? Bush's fault. It is a victimhood mindset that many liberals suffer from when afflicted by BDS. The government coddles them, takes care of them, is smarter than them, and promises to give them everything they could ever need. When a conservative Republican gets elected president, "independence," "self-reliance," and "personal responsibility" become evil buzzwords. "Look, I bought a house" becomes "It's Bush's fault the nefarious predatory lender didn't let me read my mortgage agreement thoroughly" and so on and so on.

I thought it would be interesting in this era of Obama's "change" and "hope"- where Californians voted to "change" to a Democrat in the White House, then voted to "change" the law that allowed gays to marry; where Obama "hopes" his new cabinet nominees aren't all tax cheats- to look back at an early case of BDS- Bill Press, unashamed liberal and former co-host of CNN's "Crossfire." Press, who is not a victim but only lives with BDS, since there is no cure, comes up with ten reasons George W. Bush was supposed to lose the White House four years ago: the War in Iraq, the War on Terror, Jobs, the Deficit, the Patriot Act, Crony Capitalism, Foreign Policy, the Environment, Broken Promises, the Credibility Gap, and a bonus reason- the "stolen" 2000 election. While these are the chapter titles, Press likes to bounce around and combine the subjects. I cannot go into all that much detail on each reason because they have been covered in dozens of books since this volume's 2004 copyright date. I can go into Press' writing style, or lack thereof.

Instead of presenting reasons for a John Kerry victory in 2004, Press probably couldn't find any, our brave author used anti-Bush books and websites to make the case that Bush cannot be reelected. The bibliography and organizations/websites lists in the back of the book run nine pages and feature well-known left-wing names like Moore, Franken, Begala, moveon.org, and others. Press even states that it does not matter what Kerry believes, BUSH MUST GO (he puts that phrase in all-capital letters at the end of each chapter, a mantra you come to hate until you see your next Obamantra like YES WE CAN or CHANGE or HOW AM I GOING TO PAY FOR ALL THESE PROMISES I MADE TO GET ELECTED?). Press does not get specific with footnotes when citing Bush's evils. We might get a speech date, book source title, or something equally vague. This entire book's content feels like it was forwarded from an even longer email, and Press took out all the juicy bits to fit his needs. Press' tome is a hissy fit in print. He repeats himself often, uses personal attacks- I counted three or four Rush Limbaugh drug addiction slams, tries to sound tough with the "s-word", and basically throws a juvenile, published temper tantrum. Strange to read in this "bipartisan era of hope and change."

According to Press, Bill Clinton did no wrong even when he did, and Al Gore's only flaw was giving up too easily in the Florida recount. It was mind numbing to read about Bush's "errors," just to have Press gloss over Clinton's identical "errors." Alright, one example- let me find it, this thing isn't even indexed, okay, page 75 in the Jobs chapter, Press writes: "Fact: George Bush did not inherit a recession. The National Bureau of Economic Research, which keeps track of such things made it official: The recession started in March 2001. George Bush took office in January 2001. From the get-go, this was a Bush recession. He had already spooked Wall Street after only two months in office." Wow! The truth is out! The minute your hand hits that Bible and you are sworn in, you bear all responsibility and blame! With this logic, Obama is already the worst president in history the minute he took that oath. Funny, though, I remember Bill Clinton blaming Ronald Reagan and George H.W. Bush for all those deficits he got stuck with back in 1993, and Obama uses the word "inherited" more often than a Anna Nicole Smith estate hearing- surely Press wouldn't contradict his Bush recession myth in his own book...what's this? On pages 115 and 116 in the Deficit chapter, Clinton ran deficits from 1993-1998, with surpluses only from 1999-2001- hey, Bush was in office in 2001! What a great job he did! For the record, every one of Carter's years in office was also marred by deficits. When did Reagan bring that up? Sure I can wait- the entire book is filled with this kind of contradiction.

Press also gets rabid about our environment. Evil lumber companies are raping the land as coal burning electric plants spew poison into the air. What many global warming advocates have not figured out yet is that they are doing more environmental harm than I am, while telling me how much environmental harm I am doing. I checked, this book is printed on acid-free, but not recycled, paper. How many trees had to die for Press to tell you Bush is in the lumber industry's back pocket? Does your computer come with a hand crank? Well that's okay, visit one of the many websites listed in the back of the book, burning precious electricity, to find out how Bush is too friendly with power companies. The environmental double standard is maddening, from the "Today" show jetting all around the world in great big airplanes to cover how YOU are killing Mother Earth to Al Gore's limo service to and from lectures about how YOU are making us all sick with your combustion engines. I have a feeling people are realizing greenhouse gases are not warming the earth as much as the politicized hot air is.

We know from history that Press' book did not work, despite anti-Bush quotes from such credible, moral men as Senators Edward Kennedy and Robert Byrd. Of course, liberals argue that Bush stole the 2004 election, too. Press's sour book, with his angry pinched face on the cover, went right back to the library donation drive the next week. I just realized I may be the last person in the country to read this mad diatribe.

Conservatives are personas non grata, I won't be baited into the same old tired "Bush is Hitler" arguments, and I do not support our new president (Obama), I did not vote for him, and his first couple of months in office have only confirmed by beliefs about him. Liberals have had a certain Theodore Roosevelt quote to themselves for the past eight years, excusing their hit jobs, like this book, so now let Libertarians and Republicans dust that sucker off and let it loose: "To announce that there must be no criticism of the President, or that we are to stand by the President right or wrong, is not only unpatriotic and servile, but is morally treasonable to the American public." You keep drinking that Kool-Aid. (*) out of five stars.

(Little did I know when I wrote this that the wrath a President Donald Trump would unleash on the Left makes Bush bashing look like child's play).

*Get a physical copy of Bush Must Go on Amazon here*

Book Review: An Underground Education: The Unauthorized and Outrageous Supplement to Everything You Thought You Knew About Art, Sex, Business, Crime, Science, Medicine, and Other Fields by Richard Zacks

You must think you are the cat's patoot, so sure you know everything. You paid attention in class, got good grades, and everything Mr. or Mrs. Insert-Teacher's-Name-Here said was true because they had a college degree and the bravery to stand in front of a bunch of slack-jawed kids and try to teach them something. Well, have I got the book for you. Richard Zacks explodes our often mythic look at the world. This is not just another "your teacher lied to you in school" book. Zacks backs up his own history with actual primary source documentation. As he writes, "I started muttering, 'You can't make this stuff up!'."

Zacks has divided the book into ten different sections: Arts & Literature, Business, Crime & Punishment, Everyday Life, Medicine, Religion, Science, Sex, World History, and American History. While each section can be read separately, it may be hard to put down the book after just one helping. Zacks covers a wide range of topics, but always keeps his writing simple but un-pedestrian. You quickly realize that all of these icons in history were actually people just like us. Mata Hari was no genius spy, her mug shot taken before her execution shows a plain woman in her early forties. William Shakespeare used to write down to his common audiences, letting loose with filthy puns lost on today's students. Mark Twain and Benjamin Franklin, two of America's greatest humorists, both worked blue, writing saucy material that you will not see in copies of The Adventures of Tom Sawyer or "Poor Richard's Almanack." You think today's war profiteering is something new? Pity the poor soldiers of the Civil War, eating rancid meat and trying to fight with ancient weaponry all sold to the United States government by greedy business tycoons. Speaking of the Civil War, did you know that almost a million slaves held in the Union states of Delaware, Maryland, Kentucky, and Missouri were not freed until after their enslaved brethren to the south? Thank the Thirteenth Amendment, since the Emancipation Proclamation only dealt with slaves in the Confederacy.

The material covered is immense- from the race to build the first electric chair to the world's first indoor toilet. Hermaphrodites, bestiality, and a pope pushing cocaine laced wine- oh my! Zacks litters his text with photos that add to the prose. He lets his opinions be known often, from his outrage over the lynchings in the early twentieth century to defending Amerigo Vespucci in light of criticism by others- Christopher Columbus does not get off as easily. He highlights the common as well as royal historical figures.

An Underground Education is a very good read. Once in a while, Zacks makes his point early, and a couple of vignettes run a little long, especially privateers in the Revolutionary War and some of the business anecdotes, but the things you discover will outweigh any boredom you feel. If education is the key to success, then Zacks takes that key and breaks it off in the lock. (* * * *) out of five stars.

*Get a physical copy of An Underground Education on Amazon here*

Book Review: Clinton: Portrait of Victory by Rebecca Buffum Taylor, photographs by P.F. Bentley

I used to be fascinated with the Clintons. From Bill and Hillary's criminal exploits and chronic victimhood, the former first family were like a grisly car accident that never ended, enjoying worship and idolatry from a fawning left-wing mainstream media. Clinton: Portrait of Victory is a breathless mash note to the then-new Chief Executive, chronicling Clinton's primary and general election wins. The entire book features black and white photography by P.F. Bentley, a photographer I am not familiar with, but who does a very good job.

Reading this book in one sitting, I was struck at the hopeful tone the pictures and essay author strike. Roger Rosenblatt's prologue does nothing more than beat the poor reader over the head about how important it is that the content is not ultramodern "color" photos, but black and white portraits. Rosenblatt equates Clinton to a god, and black and white photos to eternal soul-searching through the eyes of the photographer. The photographer had unlimited access to the Clintons and his bold staff, but the book does not provide any new insight to the family. Subjects wring hands, anonymous crowds surge to their media-made hero, and anyone who voted against him gets a little queasy. You could cut out the pictures of Clinton, insert any other uniparty politician, and you would have the same book. The essayist, Rebecca Buffum Taylor, breathlessly tells us how hard it is to campaign, how hard everyone worked, and how hard it is to win. Clinton is shown in candid moments with his family and staff, yet they still feel staged, as if the subjects knew this would make a really cool book if he won, and a tragic tome on honorable defeat if he lost.

Some of the captions are unintentionally funny. Printed below a picture of Clinton enjoying a big cigar, obviously not his last: "Clinton allows himself one small indulgence...". Ah, those small indulgences he would allow himself over the following two terms and beyond. This is a curio today, serving as an example that no matter what horrible things you and your family have done over the years, with the help of a complicit and credibility-absent "news media," simply lying about it and ignoring it really will make it go away. This really is a portrait of victory, Bill and Hillary Clinton pulled one over on every single one of us. (* *) out of five stars.

*Get a physical copy of Clinton: Portrait of Victory on Amazon here*