Sophisticated cynicism is the coin of the realm for distinguished British journalists like Andrew Marr, who has a reputation as an editor, a BBC political commentator and a historian. This is a dark and shining example of his talent as a satirist.
For most diehard Monty Python fans, the excitement generated at the idea of John Cleese writing an autobiography must have been enormous. After the announcement of the book’s release, the speculation must have included thoughts such as:
At exactly 10:35 a.m. on Dec. 17, 1903, at Kitty Hawk, North Carolina, Orville Wright slipped the rope restraining the Flyer and started down the track. At the end of the track the Flyer lifted into the air.
Of the American intelligence and military officers who spied for the Soviet Union and successor Russia, who deserves the most scorn for odious conduct? Topping any list would be Aldrich Ames of the CIA, whose treachery cost the lives of sources working for the United States, followed closely by Robert Hanssen of the FBI, who gave the KGB the bureau’s “game plan” for tracking spies.
I have followed China’s brutal one-child policy from its inception in 1979. Living in China at the time, I saw how poor village women were being arrested, detained and tortured — forced to undergo sterilizations and even abortions — all in the name of controlling population growth. I left China with their cries for help ringing in my ears.
A professional hit man is a challenging topic for a crime writer, especially one as steeped in gore as Norwegian author Jo Nesbo. Yet the most intriguing kind of hit man usually possesses a cold charm perhaps as a result of a way of life that involves killing on contract.
As a Marine Corps second lieutenant in 1971, the first article I wrote for the Marine Corps Gazette addressed the real possibility of an urban civil war in which the military might be called on to fight radical elements of my own generation who were advocating and actively working for the violent overthrow of the United States government.