Books, Arts & Society

Few American cultural figures have suffered as steep a decline in reputation as Lillian Hellman. 

Cambridge, Mass.

It’s been two decades since I graduated from college, and I’m glad to be back, walking the halls of MIT. Not that I went to MIT—I couldn’t have been admitted on a bribe. But college generally. At the accelerated pace of change these days, I expect today’s students to be wearing futuristic jumpsuits and commuting to class by jetpack. 

Bryan Sykes, professor of human genetics at Oxford, confesses that when he began this book he was influenced by Easy Rider, which he had seen again for the first time in years, and was drawn to the aimless wandering of its three male characters.

It used to be relatively rare to hear a real-life story that proved the adage “truth is stranger than fiction” because there were so many details in scandalous true stories that couldn’t be shared in polite society. Now, of course, all we hear are true stories filled with scandalous details—ones involving Charlie Sheen or John Edwards or Herman Cain or whoever will pop up between the time I finish writing this piece and you begin reading it. “Truth is stranger than fiction” is like “dog bites man.” It’s so true it’s boring.

The Scrapbook likes to think of itself as sophisticated, although we realize that we’re probably not as sophisticated as we like to think. Having just read a book review by Howard Kurtz in the Daily Beast, however, we’re feeling especially urbane, all-knowing, well-schooled, and, well, sophisticated.

The George Washington Temperance Society was started in a Baltimore bar in 1840. Its six founders—William K. Mitchell, John F. Hoss, David Anderson, George Steers, Archibald Campbell, and James McCurley—were not raging evangelicals; nor were they dissolute gutter-loungers. They were middle-aged men who had done well in business and five of whom had families. But as John Troy, a future member, wrote,

The successful have always been eyed with suspicion by the plain, decent old folk over at NPR, except for the once or twice a year when the alms cup comes out for a rattle or two. So it was a little astonishing to hear Garrison Keillor, the Clem Kadiddlehopper of the pubic airwaves, sing this smug little ditty, “Forever Dumb,” last Saturday night during NPR’s pledge week:

Tom Manion has a moving article in today's Wall Street Journal, ahead of Memorial Day, explaining how he came "to fully understand the sacrifices of our troops and their families."

Matt Continetti reviews A Game of Thrones, and other books in the George R.R. Martin series, in the Claremont Review of Books:

Best political ad this cycle?

False alarm--Arizona Democrat "clarifies" that he does support Obama.

Kevin Ferris on presidents and their pasts.

The evergreen question: Is it racism?

"Bill Kristol's a fine human being, and I don't mean to compare him to the Russians, but..."

On June 6 at 9 p.m. on the Travel Channel, Adam Richman's Best Sandwich in America will premier, with 30 sandwiches from around the country facing off March Madness-style, with a winner crowned by the host at season's end. The crab cake sandwich from Faidley Seafood is representing Baltimore while Texas is showing off the sliced beef brisket sandwich from the Salt Lick in Driftwood. Al's Italian Beef sandwich will speak for Chicago while the roast pork sandwich from DiNic's will make Philadelphia proud. And Washington, D.C., the nation's capital, will be repped by a chicken club sandwich from the W Hotel room service menu.