Maine
Washington State Proves It’s More Liberal than Amsterdam
What’s Next For the Same-Sex Marriage Movement?
Even the Voting Booth Is No Longer Private
No Matter Who Wins Today, the Electoral College Has to Go
Why Tuesday Could Be a Turning Point for Gay Marriage
How Hurricane Sandy Could Spoil Election Day
At first glance, Ursula Rozum, who has curly hair and a pierced nose, seems more like your average late-twenties hipster than a congressional candidate. But Rozum was in Baltimore this past weekend to promote her run for Congress in New York—and to support Roseanne Barr as the next president of the United States. While Roseanne’s candidacy may seem like a joke to some, it’s no laughing matter here in Baltimore’s Holiday Inn ballroom, home to the Green Party’s national convention.
A View From the Front Lines of the Underinsured
Today’s Supreme Court to uphold the Affordable Care Act is great news for all Americans. But I’d like to share a few personal stories from people who I met when I served as Superintendent of Insurance in Maine—the sorts of people who will especially benefit from Obamacare. —Betty had planned for her retirement and thought she had enough savings to stay privately insured until Medicare. But double-digit premium increases exhausted her savings.
Up in the Air
LATE ON THE MORNING of July 2, 1937, Amelia Earhart climbed into the cockpit of her Lockheed Electra airplane on a small grass runway in Lae, New Guinea. She was 22,000 flight miles into her daring attempt to fly around the world, a journey that had captivated Americans since she lifted off from Miami a month earlier. Now Earhart was facing the most dangerous leg of the trip: a 19-hour, 2,556-mile flight to a tiny speck in the Pacific Ocean known as Howland Island. Earhart’s celebrity had grown formidable in the decade since her transatlantic flight, the first ever by a female pilot.
Nobility Eclipsed
Sanctuary in the Wilderness: A Critical Introduction to American Hebrew PoetryBy Alan Mintz (Stanford University Press, 520 pp., $65) I. ON DECEMBER 17, 2007, on the storied stage of the Poetry Center of the 92nd Street Y in New York, the Hebrew language—its essence, its structure, its metaphysic— entered American discourse in so urgent a manner as to renew, if not to inflame, an ancient argument. The occasion was a public conversation between Marilynne Robinson and Robert Alter: a not uncommon match of novelist with literary scholar.
