John C Summitt

This book is a well-written account of the events and circumstances that are likely at the heart of the JFK assassination. Shocked at how closely the world had come to the disaster of nuclear annihilation during the Cuban missile crisis Kennedy escalated his efforts to reach out to both the Soviet Union and Cuba with the hopes of ratcheting down the cold war tensions and ultimately moving toward world peace. This put him increasingly at odds with his own government, particularly the Joint Chiefs of Staff and the CIA. The author makes a strong case that Oswald went to the Soviet Union in the employ of the CIA and demonstrates how he was set up along with the Soviet Union and Cuba to take the fall for the assassination. The author follows the two narratives to their ultimate collision course, along the way discussing the case of Thomas Arthur Vallee, a troubled Marine who was going to shoot Kennedy in Chicago until the plot was exposed by a whistle blower named Lee, and the legion of Oswalds that were running around Dallas shooting up the rifle ranges, leaving the TSBD alternately by bus or by car, being escorted out both the front and rear of the Texas Theater, and my favorite; driving in to work with different people on different days while in possession of curtain rods. One set was likely German and the other Italian. Check it out; it reads like a thriller so even the coincidence theorists will be entertained.

Being mistrustful of bestsellers and apprehensive of trying to keep track of all those similar sounding Scandinavian names, I put off reading this book for quite awhile. Eventually my curiosity got the better of me and, after picking up the first one, read straight through all three books. Initially I thought my worst fears were confirmed when the author embarked on a lengthy expository interlude to provide background on a newly introduced character but as the characters become established in the reader's mind the pace picks up. It is the ability of the author to deftly create and handle believable characters, particularly Lisbeth Salander, that really propels the story forward. The only criticism I have, and it's a minor one, is the author's penchant for the flights of exposition, but in this case it doesn't bog down the story. One could do a whole lot worse than read these books.

In this book Randy Shilts tells the story of Harvey Milk and his path from a closeted gay man with conservative values (he supported Goldwater) who stumbled through a good part of his life without direction until he moved to San Francisco and found his calling in advocating for gay equality and striving toward his vision of a a time and place where gays and straights could coexist peacefully. Though most widely known for his gay advocacy he was a populist who, among other things, pushed for district elections of supervisors in an effort to wrest political power away from the downtown business interests and put it back in the hands of the city neighborhoods.
As a grassroots populist Harvey Milk's improbable rise in city politics put him at odds with the moderate gay politicos who preferred working within the system and ultimately the cronyism of the existing political machine. Ironically, or perhaps inevitably, once the gay movement gained some power and achieved a measure of respectability the movers and shakers absorbed the methods of traditional politics and became insiders themselves.
Many familiar names have cameo appearances: Dianne Feinstein, Jerry Brown, Jimmy Carter, Anita Bryant, Art Agnos, Jim Jones, and of course, Dan White, the man who shot Mayor George Moscone and Milk. There are a number of possible motives that may have led Dan White to kill Moscone and Milk; the most unlikely of which was his alleged manic depression exacerbated by Twinkies and Coke.
The book is a well written fascinating account of Milk, the trajectory of his life, and the events in San Francisco during his short time there.

Cayce Pollard has an acute sensitivity to logos and advertising. She uses her sensitivity as a consultant who can determine the effectiveness of corporate logos and advertising. After a business meeting she is hired by her contractor to seek out the origin of something called the footage, a mysterious film that is being released piecemeal in random sequence on the internet. Case, who has been avidly following the footage and the attendant speculation of its origins and meaning agrees to the task.

When I read William Gibson I sometimes feel like I've been dropped in a dark alley and I'm following Gibson's footsteps with the hope that if I catch up I can grasp all that is going on in the story. I say this not as a criticism because Gibson creates such a vivid world that the reader (or at least this reader) intuits the story from context. Definitely worth a read.

Solidly written examination of the rise of Blackwater literally from the primordial right-wing ooze of North Carolina to its heights as the praetorian guard of the Neocons in in places such as Iraq, Afghanistan, and New Orleans.

Although wrapping itself in the flag of patriotism and basking in the light of god, Blackwater's true purpose was profiteering, in particular milking the tit of the illegal wars of the Bush administration. Between greed and incompetence Blackwater managed to managed to get their own people killed on more than one occasion, most notably in Fallujah. Nonetheless Blackwater fit perfectly in the Neocon plan to privatize the military to maximize profit and minimize accountability.

While not exactly a potboiler, the book is organized clearly and concisely and written in a straightforward manner that reads quickly.

This book does a great job of demonstrating how the media has ignored the mountain of evidence that puts the lie to the official version of 9/11, and in particular, shows Noam Chomsky's dishonest and systemic (no pun intended) denial of conspiracy while at the same time claiming he knows nothing about the evidence. According to Chomsky the laws of physics have been suspended at Dealey Plaza and the World Trade Center.

Lee Child is the Mariah Carey of hack writers; in the course of his story he hits every cliche in the Bad Writing Inflictionary. I suspect the manner in which some of the characters meet their grisly end faithfully depicts the way he creates his characters and plot with equally gruesome results. If you like your bodies stacked like cordwood, stick with James Ellroy.

Dennis Lehane can be a good writer when he wants to. There are flashes of his ability in this collection but too often he careens from cliche to self conscious attempts at being literary. The stories aren't bad but the play is frankly embarrassing to read at times. Maybe David Mamet can successfully have characters recite soliloquies that no one in real life would ever say but not Dennis Lehane. Dennis, go back and watch The Wire–Omar never talked like that.