You. I see you, the one who “doesn’t read science fiction.” C’mere a sec. *hooks arm around reader’s shoulders* Guess what? I get it, I do. But believe me, science fiction isn’t all about rocketships and mad scientists.
“To become more than successful—to become invincible—a brand must occupy a position in the consumer’s soul.” Matt Gonzales explores two of modern America’s most unbreakable brands.
“When the promises of liberty, opportunity, and justice are being broken week after week—whether for all people or a certain group of people—what do we owe to the symbols that claim to stand for them?” Robin Beery on a father’s protest and the distinction between a nation and its symbols.
“‘Jimi Hendrix died,’ my stepdad said through the window in the radio room, or maybe I just overheard him announce it to someone through that black microphone. I did know, even at ten, who Jimi Hendrix was. I was surprised my dad knew.” Marisa Mangani on recurrently remembering the death of a legend.
“I ignored that thought and said, I’ll bring his first album in tomorrow, if you like. You can borrow it and burn a copy, and he said, thanks, though really I don’t think he cared either way, or was particularly interested in hearing this DJ Rupture, it would make him look uncool, and even if he did end up liking it, he couldn’t say so, not in public anyway, or to me.” Stephen Mander tells the story of a CD he’s never getting back.
How do you solve Indianapolis’s violent crime problem in “those neighborhoods”? We may have actually found some common ground with Tony Katz. (Probably not.)
“Once, a boy received a low grade, the lowest we could receive: a “U,” unsatisfactory. I remember he had sandy hair and very blue eyes. I think his name was Tommy. He cried, loud, heaving tears that made him hiccup and splotched his face red. Eventually, a nurse escorted him from the classroom.” Carla Dash on avoiding undue effort.
Brexit is one thing. Cultural appropriation is quite another. Before British Conservatives go looking for their lost mojo, they need to get a clue.
I should not have traveled; this much became apparent. I remained delicate since a previous surgery six months before. Yet I had succumbed to the lure of possible happiness. I am a law professor and had been invited to a conference in New York. I dashed off to Manhattan and drank like a bacchante. I…