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Outside my window: a gray day in Ann Arbor. Two cops—in shorts, on bicycles—glide by. A roiling sea of blue and gold middle-aged. . .
While retrieving my New York Times I noticed that it was September 12, 1962.
The Final Lesson
The men standing in the moonlight on that narrow porch represented the best of Bucyrus–the mayor, Colonel Hank. . .
Latinos work to wrest the right's political weapon of choice—the U.S.-Mexico border itself.
Image, myth, and reality clash in the spectacle of the U.S.-Mexico border.
Debate—and especially the challenge to debate—exists as an end in itself. Debate has become a conservative fetish object.