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  • HISTORY (Without Planning It) Calamity Jane Was a Pioneer for Women’s Rights

    When asked once how she got her name she said it was because she would be a calamity to any man who bothered her. Calamity Jane, Martha Jane Cannary was born in Princeton, Missouri, 1852. Some years later, her

  • ART Ron Athey’s “Messianic Remains”. A Performance Experience

    Dark room. A single spotlight illuminates the naked body of Ron Athey on the stage: exposed, vulnerable, and immobilized by strings on a metal rack. Hooks are surgically embedded in his eyelids and cheeks, and pull

  • SHORT STORIES E.L. Freifeld: Best Seller

    Big Zalman and his ‘poet wife’. When a lie can save a life. A 'buba mentsa'—a story—on self

  • INSTANT KARMA Lynn Emanuel: United States of Emanuel

    Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, USA. I am sitting at my computer staring into its light and writing to the planet; my fingers tap, tap, tap at the keyboard like someone walking quickly down a street. This is my place: Pittsburgh is the name of the city (we are famous for steel making and robber barons, we are named after a famous English statesman, William Pitt). Allegheny is the name of the county (we are named after a river which runs through the county and was named two centuries ago by the native  Americans who lived here). Pennsylvania is the name of the state (we are named after a famous English Quaker who founded the state). The mid-Atlantic is the name of the region (we are nearer to the Atlantic Ocean than the Pacific ocean). The United States is the name of the country. It is spring, the sun is bright yellow, the air is thin and raw, the temperature is 45 degrees Fahrenheit, the wind is mild but turns the ornamental caps on my neighbors’ chimney. We are far from the sea; we have hills and mountains where men mine coal. Barges covered with big, black,  mountains of coal go down the Allegheny and Monongahela rivers. Twenty years ago the air smelled of sulfur from the mills where steel was being made. Sometimes there are terrible floods from the rivers. We are an hour and a half by plane from the Atlantic Ocean. We are an hour and a half south of Lake Erie, one of what are called the Great Lakes. Lake Erie is as large as a small sea. When you stand on its shores, the lake disappears into the horizon. The states that surround us are: Ohio, Maryland, West Virginia, states no one outside the States knows or thinks about. First people think of California. It will take me five hours to fly to Los Angeles tomorrow to read my poems. Or they think of New York, where I was born. We are an hour by plane from New York City. do.” From Afternoon Anthology (Leconte 2001)

  • INTERVIEW Erica Jong, from “Fear of Flying” to “Fear of Dying”: “people see the sexuality and miss the satire in my books”

    “I’ve always loved Isaac Bashevis Singer who is the expert in laughing and crying simultaneously. The amazing thing about Jewish writers is their ability to see sadness and humor

  • PLANET INDIA Cybermohalla Ensemble: A Search for the Eleventh Question

    With their first ten questions, any two people in conversation create a traffic of experience between each other. They ask about each other's life. But after that, where can the conversation go?

  • PLANET INDIA Avtar Singh: My Writing? A Map for Tomorrow’s Children

    In twenty-odd years, when my son's own child arrives, what city will that young boy or girl awake to? It will be very different from this one. My writing is a testament for those children that I may or may not see, who

  • HISTORY Lois Michal Unger: Herod at the Israel Museum

    JERUSALEM – The Herod Exhibit at the Israel Museum in Jerusalem gives the viewer a glimpse at a man of his time, Herod the Great and the milieu he lived in. In 40 BCE Rome was ruled by a Triumvirate, Octavian

  • POLITICS Jeffrey Weinberg: The Presidential Race

    I stood watch over the street corner that night back in 1969. Washington, D.C. was a magnet for the world’s newspapers and television networks once again as the systems of both politics and the people readied

  • MUSIC Meri Nana-Ama Danquah: The Music of Words

    When I was seven years old, I went with my parents to visit a friend of theirs. While they sat around and talked, I made peace with my boredom at the man’s piano, striking random notes and creating little tunes to


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