I get so angry every time I remember having read this insincere bullshit brick. The Jim Bakker of “I Was Wrong“ is a holy fool and absolute idiot who loved God more than he loved reading the Bible and needed a stint in jail to become a red-letter Christian. The Bakker of the modern era is a monger of prepper bulk meals, promises of a violence if Trump ever faces political consequences, and lies about vaccines. A truly stunning return to form.

It's fine. At this point in history the Communist Manifesto is more of a novelty than anything else. Discovering that about a third of this plus-sized pamphlet is devoted to shit-talking other leftists really drove home that nothing in it was new or scary even at the time. The Communist Manifesto is, upon inspection, revealed as really nothing more than a single piece of a long running, much more widespread conversation.

A good workhorse of a book covering the professional lives of 11 of Edward R. Murrow's mentees. Although the book makes it relatively easy to keep track of so many individuals, the authors could have stood to either write a few more pages or focus on a few fewer subjects. Either would have been equally suitable and I'll let that sum up my feelings on the quality of the writing itself.

Jodorowski's fanciful retelling of his family's history mixes the lofty with the loam. Beautiful stories about lion tamers learning to read by ordering letters around like beasts sit next to blasé recountings of sexual abuse, incest, assault, and mass killings. There's value in stories about tarot cards that preach worker solidarity, provided you can tolerate Jodorowsky's instinct to build a nest feathered with mysticism, pubic hair, and trauma.