In many ways, the bizarre state of affairs in which our nation's capital now finds itself mired is not so new. Author Clay Risen explores a key juncture in our history when archaic procedures threatened to change the course of history.
What I really want is for women to be part of the story from the outset, and for the world to know that they've been there all along. It's been a long time coming, for women to openly serve, but it's also part of a deep-seated tradition in this country.
It surprises many people to learn that over 200 women disguised themselves as men and fought in the Civil War. While serving in the military certainly doesn't seem like a romantic honeymoon, several sets of newlyweds served together as soldiers.
How could Abraham Lincoln really believe what he said in the first line of the Gettysburg Address? He said the United States had been conceived in liberty, knowing full well that the founding of the country sealed a million black people in slavery.
Jewish tradition fosters argument for the sake of arriving at truth. The Talmud tells us the sages Hillel and Shammai often disagreed with one another, but their respective points of view have endured because of the purity of their motives.
Anyone who cares about justice, or who loves this country, cannot be unmoved by the painful images of a nation at war with itself, with a disagreement between sections of the country so profound that civil violence is the only answer.
In the build-ups during World Wars I and II, the army had to quickly construct dozens of new forts across the country. Most were named for military heroes, and most of the ones in the south were named for Confederate generals.
It's becoming clear to me that Tarantino made something far deeper than a spaghetti western. I've come to realize that his chosen homage/genre was simply a launching point into a much more substantive story about an unlikely friendship, joined in a quest for an unlikely love story.
This liberty to form part of the creative apparatus of God, is exhaustingly joyous. We all have some beautiful art to make, perform, or sing: words to write, pictures to paint, families to nurture, gardens to grow, lessons to teach, goods to tender, worship to give.
In coming months and years, teachers' jobs will be made harder by Steven Spielberg's film Lincoln, in which Daniel Day-Lewis gives a brilliant performance as, well, Lincoln-the-abolitionist. The only problem is that Lincoln was not an abolitionist.
When you rob five young men of their youth, innocence and educational opportunity and put them and their families through hell for more than a decade, you owe them more than an apology -- you owe them restitution.