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The title is in italics because it's the name of a TV show: yet another superior BBC crime drama. The twist, or gimmick you might say, in this one, is that the detective–the "River" of the title–has some pretty serious mental problems: he sees and has conversations with people who aren't really there. The story revolves…
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It's an odd boy who doesn't like sport.
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The little town where I live, Fairhope, Alabama, has always had an artsy element, which is nice, but over the past few decades the town has grown fashionable and attractive to wealthy people, which is not so nice. And now the artsy crowd also tends to be wealthy and fashionable. I don't care for this…
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When some calamity like this happens, I generally don't remark on it here or on Facebook. Unless I personally know someone affected, it seems like an empty gesture. Does anyone reading this care one way or the other if I express my sympathy for the victims? I doubt it. But of course I have been reading…
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From Walker Percy's Love in the Ruins, spoken by the narrator but probably the author's view: Students are, if the truth be known, a bad lot. En masse they're as fickle as a mob, manipulable by any professor who'll stoop to it. They have, moreover, an infinite capacity for repeating dull truths and old lies with…
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