U Books

Thomas Sowell is more than just a critical thinker: he has a penchant for expressing his ideas with a clarity with which it is difficult to argue. He uses that uncommon commodity known, for some strange reason, as "common sense."

Sowell points out`the ludicrous incongruities of the liberal "philosophy" in terms so plain and unvarnished that only one attempting a proctological examination on themselves could miss it.

An example: "The point of being a superpower is so that no one will attack you and require the sacrifice of more and more young Americans like those buried in this cemetery. We were attacked at Pearl Harbor because we were sitting ducks who had allowed our military forces to dwindle away until we had an army smaller than Portugal's--and not enough equipment even for this small force." Page 7.

Or: "Multiculturism is one of those affectations that people can indulge in when they are enjoying all the fruits of modern technology and can grandly disdain the processes that produced them. None of this would be anything more than another of the many foibles of the human race, except that the cult of multiculturism has become the new religion of our schools and colleges, contributing to the mushing of America. It has become part of the unexamined assumptions underlying public policy and even decisions in courts of law." Page 19.

Or: "Much of the current uproar about IQ differences between blacks and whites does not get down to the rock-bottom question: What is there to explain? The average score of blacks in IQ tests in the United States is about 85, compared to a national averge of 100. Is that unusual? No. It is not." He goes on to explain that various groups of various ancestries have had IQs of 85 at various times and places, and he names some of them, and says that the phenomenon is not peculiar to the United States, and he admits that he doesn't know why. Even American aoldiers of the First World War had lower IQs than our soldiers of the Second World War. Page 176.

This is a man to be reckoned with, and these essays are valuable for their insights, most of which effectively puncture widely and emotionally held ideas, especially those that are deemed "politically correct," and institutionalized unquestioned dogma of the liberal anointed who think they are qualified to tell the rest of us how to think and act.

Joseph (Joe) Pierre

author of Handguns and Freedom...their care and maintenance
and other books

Just looking through the pages will get you wanting to bead. There are color photos and diagrams that talk you through the process. You start out with a simple beadling to learn the stitching and then advance to spiders, grasshoppers, mermaids, etc.

This is the perfect book for anyone wanting to bead. I also highly recommend Geckos & Other Bead Animals by Drew Wilkens. There is a little bit of overlap, but with both books you will become a beadling expert!

Don Normark, a young photographer in 1948, was climbing in the hills looking for postcard-shot views of LA when he discovered La Loma, Palo Verde, and Bishop. Each neighborhood was a rambling cluster of buildings, dirt streets, and footpaths. The wooded slopes of Elysian Park overlooked the ravine, and beyond were the peaks of the San Gabriel Mountains. He felt he had found another world -- a kind of Shangri-La. For many months, he returned to take pictures of what he saw and of the people he met there. He didn't know that he was recording on film the daily life of a place and its people that was about to disappear.

The pictures, of course, are black and white, a rich range of gray tones and contrasts under the cloudless southern California sky. In a casual street scene, two men stand talking on the hard dirt, and a third, his back to them, leans across a low concrete wall. All is in sharp focus from the dusty tire track in the foreground to the pointed tower of City Hall nudging up over a darkly wooded ridge in the distance. The mid-afternoon light reflects brightly off one man's tee shirt and from the front of a small white house farther on. Meanwhile, the shadows cast by eaves, palm fronds, parked cars, and the men themselves are deeply dark.

There are many pictures of people, of all ages. Some look into the camera. Most are busy working, walking, talking, playing. A young girl wears her confirmation dress. A boy watches his father repair a car. Two men spar under branches thick with bougainvillea blossoms. An iceman stands in an open gateway, tongs slung over one shoulder. A young woman arranges flowers on an altar. A workman returns home along a winding footpath at the end of the day (see book jacket above).

Fifty years later, Normark gathered together his pictures and began looking for the people who had once lived in Chávez Ravine. This book is an album of those pictures, with commentary by the people he found, in their own words. Normark writes simply and clearly about himself and his experiences. Like his photographs, his writing style is sharply focused. In the opening pages of the book, he describes the forced relocation of the people of Chávez Ravine during the Fifties, and the various public and private interests contending for control of its development. Normark's book is both handsome and beautifully written, a fine example of text and image illuminating each other.

For those who don't know the story, in a nutshell: The residents of Chavez Ravine, who were almost entirely Latino, were offered the promise that their community would be replaced by public housing as part of a renewal project of sorts. (Some had called their neighborhood blighted.) But as the land acquisition proceeded, and as various official pledges were reneged and political cards played (including exploitation of the then current fear of creeping Socialism/Communism-- after all, I ask you, what could be more unAmerican than affordable replacement housing?), the project proved to be a lie. The final hold-outs at Chavez Ravine were bodily removed by deputies as the last remnants of the neighborhood were cleared to make way for a sports field and parking lot. (!)

This volume is great because these photos, which speak so eloquently of one specific place and time, also speak clearly of universal things. Children play; young couples tie the knot as family celebrates; honest and good people work to protect what is theirs, to better their lot, and just to get by. -- It is about nothing less than the struggle and joy of life itself.

If there is any uplift to the wistful story this book tells in beautiful images and words, it is in that the displaced people survived, persevered, and that their old home, and what happened there, is remembered today.

Sometimes, you have to search for the bright spot. A thought-provoking read. Recommended.