- House members question $17 billion VA request
- N.Y. Gov. Cuomo launches statewide task force to collect LGBT data
- Obama’s motorcade prevents woman in labor from crossing street to hospital
- Grijalva: Anti-trafficking law ‘line in the sand for many of us’
- Joe Biden: ‘Businesses are hiring at historic rates’
- Jeb Bush to Congress: Don’t use border crisis as excuse to delay immigration reform
- U.N. Human Rights head accuses Israel of war crimes
- CBP Commissioner: Border is ‘more secure and more safe’
- Obama dispatches researchers to border to check on National Guard
- Dutch receiving Malaysia plane bodies irked at Putin’s daughter in Holland
Topic - Karl Kraus
Present-day Vienna is one of the world's most beautiful cities. But its charms are those of a museum-cum-theme park featuring a talented repertory company, a place for visitors to soak up the remnants — musical, artistic, architectural and intellectual — of a splendid but moribund past. A century ago, even as the once-mighty Austro-Hungarian Empire began to disintegrate, Vienna was still a living center of culture and commerce, rivaling Paris, London and Moscow and, at least on the aesthetic and intellectual sides, far outshining its rival German-speaking capital, Berlin.
Yet the incisive, acerbic and sometime hilarious words of Kraus, notably his outpourings in Die Fackel (The Torch), the one-man journal he printed intermittently from 1899 to 1936, have a lot to say to us today.