Buckley, the father of the modern conservative movement, and his mother, Patricia Taylor Buckley, one of New York's most glamorous and colorful socialites. He was their only child and their relationship was close and complicated. Writes Buckley: "They were not - with respect to every other set of loving, wonderful parents in the world - your typical mom and dad."As Buckley tells the story of their final year together, he takes readers on a surprisingly entertaining tour through hospitals, funeral homes, and memorial services, capturing the heartbreaking and disorienting feeling of becoming a 55-year-old orphan. Buckley maintains his sense of humor by recalling the words of Oscar Wilde: "To lose one parent may be regarded as a misfortune. To lose both looks like carelessness."Just as Calvin Trillin and Joan Didion gave readers solace and insight into the experience of losing a spouse, Christopher Buckley offers consolation, wit, and warmth to those coping with the death of a parent, while telling a unique personal story of life with legends.

    Arnade's raw, deeply reported accounts cut through today's clickbait media headlines and indict the elitists who misunderstood poverty and addiction in America for decades.After abandoning his Wall Street career, Arnade decided to document poverty and addiction in the Bronx. He began interviewing, photographing, and becoming close friends with homeless addicts, and spent hours in drug dens and McDonald's. Then he started driving across America to see how the rest of the country compared. He found the same types of stories everywhere, across lines of race, ethnicity, religion, and geography.The people he got to know, from Alabama and California to Maine and Nevada, gave Arnade a new respect for the dignity and resilience of what he calls America's Back Row--those who lack the credentials and advantages of the so-called meritocratic upper class. The strivers in the Front Row, with their advanced degrees and upward mobility, see the Back Row's values as worthless. They scorn anyone who stays in a dying town or city as foolish, and mock anyone who clings to religion or tradition as naive.As Takeesha, a woman in the Bronx, told Arnade, she wants to be seen she sees herself: "a prostitute, a mother of six, and a child of God." This book is his attempt to help the rest of us truly see, hear, and respect millions of people who've been left behind.

    So he got out a map, found the whitest towns in the USA--and moved in.A journalist-adventurer, Benjamin packed his bags and embarked on a 26,909-mile journey throughout the heart of white America, to some of the fastest-growing and whitest locales in our nation. Benjamin calls these enclaves "Whitopias." In this groundbreaking book, he shares what he learned as a black man in Whitopia.Benjamin's journey to unlock the mysteries of Whitopia took him from a 3-day white separatist retreat with links to Aryan Nations in North Idaho to exurban mega-churches down South, and many points in between. A compelling raconteur, bon vivant, and scholar, Benjamin reveals what Whitopias are like and explores the urgent social and political implications of this startling phenomenon. Benjamin's groundbreaking study is one of few to have illuminated in advance the social and political forces propelling the rise of Donald Trump. After all, Trump carried 94% of America's Whitopian counties. And he won a median 67% of the vote in Whitopia compared to 46% of the vote nationwide.Leaving behind speculation or sensationalism, Benjamin explores the future of whiteness and race in an increasingly multicultural nation."A thoroughly engaging and eye-opening look at an urgent social issue.” -- BOOKLIST (starred review).http://www.npr.org/templates/story/st...

    He writes to comics, corporations, children, presidents, and even his daughter's boyfriend. Here is Groucho swapping photos with T. S. Eliot (”I had no idea you were so handsome!”); advising his son on courting a rich dame (”Don't come out bluntly and say, 'How much dough have you got?' That wouldn't be the Marxian way”); crisply declining membership in a Hollywood club (”I don't care to belong to any social organization that will accept me as a member”); reacting with utmost composure when informed that he has been made into a verb by James Joyce (”There's no reason why I shouldn't appear in Finnegans Wake . I'm certainly as bewildered about life as Joyce was”); responding to a scandal sheet (”Gentleman: If you continue to publish slanderous pieces about me, I shall feel compelled to cancel my subscription”); describing himself to the Lunts (”I eat like a vulture. Unfortunately the resemblance doesn't end there”); and much, much more. That mobile visage, that look of wild amazement, and that weaving cigar are wholly captured, bound but untamed, in The Groucho Letters.

    Your niece swears that no one expects thank-you letters anymore. Your father-in-law insists that married women have to take their husbands' names. Your guests plead that asking them to commit themselves to attending your party ruins the spontaneity. Who is right? Miss Manners, of course. With all those amateurs issuing unauthorized etiquette pronouncements, aren't you glad that there is a gold standard to consult about what has really changed and what has not? The freshly updated version of the classic bestseller includes the latest letters, essays, and illustrations, along with the laugh-out-loud wisdom of Miss Manners as she meets the new millennium of American misbehavior head-on. This wickedly witty guide rules on the challenges brought about by our ever-evolving society, once again proving that etiquette, far from being an optional extra, is the essential currency of a civilized world.

    Like John McPhee and Susan Orlean, Laskas dives deep into her subjects and emerges with character-driven narratives that are gripping, funny, and revelatory. In Hidden America, the stories are about the people who make our lives run every day—and yet we barely think of them. Laskas spent weeks in an Ohio coal mine and on an Alaskan oil rig; in a Maine migrant labor camp, a Texas beef ranch, the air traffic control tower at New York’s LaGuardia Airport, a California landfill, an Arizona gun shop, the cab of a long-haul truck in Iowa, and the stadium of the Cincinnati Ben-Gals cheerleaders. Cheerleaders? Yes. They, too, are hidden America, and you will be amazed by what Laskas tells you about them: hidden no longer.

    Y is a smart, funny, stylish, and visually driven anthology that com­piles and compares their two generational cul­tures. It’s a story told through lists, infographics, essays, anecdotes, and images, with chapters devoted to fashion, TV, music, technology, dating, books, and movies. Through musings on topics such as leg warmers, Clueless, Sassy magazine, and MTV, along with mixtapes and TV characters, X vs. Y paints a portrait of two intricately entwined generations.

    Years before the clown car of candidates was fully loaded, Taibbi grasped the essential themes of the story: the power of spectacle over substance, or even truth; the absence of a shared reality; the nihilistic rebellion of the white working class; the death of the political establishment; and the emergence of a new, explicit form of white nationalism that would destroy what was left of the Kingian dream of a successful pluralistic society.Taibbi captures, with dead-on, real-time analysis, the failures of the right and the left, from the thwarted Bernie Sanders insurgency to the flawed and aimless Hillary Clinton campaign; the rise of the "dangerously bright" alt-right with its wall-loving identity politics and its rapturous view of the "Racial Holy War" to come; and the giant fail of a flailing, reactive political media that fed a ravenous news cycle not with reporting on political ideology, but with undigested propaganda served straight from the campaign bubble. At the center of it all stands Donald J. Trump, leading a historic revolt against his own party, "bloviating and farting his way" through the campaign, "saying outrageous things, acting like Hitler one minute and Andrew Dice Clay the next." For Taibbi, the stunning rise of Trump marks the apotheosis of the new postfactual movement.Taibbi frames the reporting with original essays that explore the seismic shift in how we perceive our national institutions, the democratic process, and the future of the country. Insane Clown President is not just a postmortem on the collapse and failure of American democracy. It offers the riveting, surreal, unique, and essential experience of seeing the future in hindsight."Scathing . . . What keeps the pages turning in this so freshly familiar story line is the vivid observation and original turns of phrase."--San Francisco Chronicle

    Whether David Rakoff's contrasting the elegance of one of the last flights of the supersonic Concorde with the good-times-and-chicken-wings populism of Hooters Air; working as a cabana boy at a South Beach hotel; or traveling to a private island off the coast of Belize to watch a soft-core video shoot where he is provided with his very own personal manservant rarely have greed, vanity, selfishness, and vapidity been so mercilessly skewered. Somewhere along the line, our healthy self-regard has exploded into obliterating narcissism; our manic getting and spending have now become celebrated as moral virtues. Simultaneously a Wildean satire and a plea for a little human decency, Don t Get Too Comfortable shows that far from being bobos in paradise, we are in a special circle of gilded-age hell.

    The drawings provide a retrospective of Wolfe's twenty-three years as a graphic artist.

    This is where the 72,444 words of my latest book are cooked down to fit this space. But how does one do that? Do you reveal pivotal plot points like the one at the end of the book where the little girl on crutches points an accusing finger and shouts, The killer is Mr. Potter?I have too much respect for you as an attention-deficient consumer to attempt such an obvious ruse. But let's not play games here. You picked up the book already, so you either: A. Know who I am B. Liked the cool smoking jacket I'm wearing on the coverC. Have just discovered that the bookstore restroom is out of toilet paper Is it a sequel to my autobiography If Chins Could Kill: Confessions of a B Movie Actor? Sadly, no, which made it much harder to write. According to my publisher, I haven't done enough since 2001 to warrant another memoir. Is it an autobiographical novel? Yes. I'm the lead character in the story, and I'm a real person, and everything in the book actually happened, except for the stuff that didn't. The action revolves around my preparations for a pivotal role in the A-list relationship film Let's Make Love! But my Homeric attempt to break through the glass ceiling of B-grade genre fare is hampered by a vengeful studio executive and a production that becomes infected by something called the B movie virus, symptoms of which include excessive use of cheesy special effects, slapstick, and projectile vomiting. From a violent fistfight with a Buddhist to a life-altering stint in federal prison, this novel has it all. And if the 72,444 words are too time-consuming, there are lots and lots of cool graphics.Regards, Bruce Don't Call Me Ash CampbellPraise for Make Love the Bruce Campbell WayIt's a great, goofy what-if.---Entertainment WeeklyUltimately, Make Love is a Bruce Campbell novel, starring Bruce Campbell, written for Bruce Campbell fans for whom Bruce Campbell can do no wrong. They'll no doubt find Campbell's latest endeavor nothing short of---to quote one of his most famous characters---groovy.---The OnionOne of the most delightfully deranged experiences you'll have reading this year. Hail to the king, baby.---Rue Morgue

    Boorstin’s prophetic vision of an America inundated by its own illusions has become an essential resource for any reader who wants to distinguish the manifold deceptions of our culture from its few enduring truths.Cover design by Matt Dorfman.

    citizen, using it as a starting point for her exploration of the rights, liberties, and protections that are traditionally associated with American citizenship. Tapping into history, politics, and literature, she elucidates how accidents of birth--such as national origin, race, and gender--that once determined the boundaries of Americanness still their shadows today.

     Danny Rubin, screenwriter of Groundhog Day. This collection of the most epic, hilarious, and strange Bill Murray stories, many of which have never before been reported, spotlights the star's extraordinary ability to infuse the everyday with surprise, absurdity, and wonder. No one will ever believe you. New York Times bestselling author Gavin Edwards, like the rest of us, has always been fascinated with Bill Murray in particular the beloved actor's adventures off-screen, which rival his filmography for sheer entertainment value. Edwards traveled to the places where Murray has lived, worked, and partied, in search of the most outrageous and hilarious Bill Murray stories from the past four decades, many of which have never before been reported. Bill once paid a child five dollars to ride his bike into a swimming pool. The star convinced Harvard's JV women's basketball team to play with him in a private game of hoops. Many of these surreal encounters ended with Bill whispering, No one will ever believe you into a stranger's ear. But The Tao of Bill Murray is more than just a collection of wacky anecdotes. This volume puts the actor's public clowning into a larger context, as Edwards distills Murray's unique way of being into a set of guiding principles. A sideways mix of comedy and philosophy, full of photo bombs, late-night party crashes, and movie-set antics, this is the perfect book for anyone who calls themselves a Bill Murray fan which is to say, everyone. Praise for The Tao of Bill Murray When confronted by life's challenges and opportunities, we should all be asking ourselves, What would Bill Murray do? This book actually has the answers. Jay Duplass, writer, director, actor, fan of Bill Murray [Gavin Edwards] captures Murray's enigmatic, comic genius. The Washington Post Rib-tickling. Newsday If you are among the multitudes who have a Bill Murray story (viz: I was in the airport bar, and who sat down next to me but Bill Murray? ), The Tao of Bill Murray will speak to you. Elle Murray is an endless delight, and his knack for bons mots and non sequiturs will keep readers laughing before revealing an unexpectedly poignant vision for happiness. . . . A fun and revealing look behind the charm and mythos of Bill Murray that will only strengthen his legend. Kirkus Reviews This book is bursting with anecdotes that underline Murray's unconventional and fun-loving life. . . . Murray's fans are sure to savor [it] and walk away with a deeper appreciation of the actor and his work. Publishers Weekly(starred review) I just can't fathom how anyone could not like the man. He lives as much as possible by his own rules; this is a guy who doesn't buy round-trip airline tickets because he prefers to make decisions on the fly. That old question of the three people you'd most like to have dinner with? I'd pick Bill Murray and leave the other two chairs empty just to see who he pulls over to join us. . . . You will love The Tao of Bill Murray. Period. GeekDad A hilarious read occasionally heartwarming, sometimes head-scratching. . . . Sure to please Murray fans. Library Journal"

    The figures who influenced him most were not the typical ones – Miles Davis, say, or Jack Kerouac – but rather people like Jean Shepherd, whose manic, acidic nightly radio broadcasts out of WOR-Radio had a tough realism about life and ‘enthralled a generation of alienated young people’; Henry Mancini, whose chilled-out, nourish soundtracks, especially to films by Blake Edwards utilised the unconventional, spare instrumentation associated with the cool jazz school; and Mort Fega, the laid back, knowledgeable all night jazz man at WEVD, who was like ‘the cool uncle you always wished you had’. He writes of how, growing up as a Cold War baby, one of his primary doors of escape became reading science fiction by such authors as Philip K. Dick, and of his regular trips into New York City to hear jazz. Other emblematic musical heroes Fagen writes about include Ray Charles, Ike Turner, and the Boswell Sisters, a trio from the 1920s and 30s whose subversive musical genius included trick phrasing and way out harmony.‘Class of ’69’ recounts Fagen’s colourful tumultuous years at Bard College, the progressive university north of New York City that attracted a strange mix of applicants, including ‘desperate suburban misfits with impressive verbal skills but appalling high school records’ (like himself). It was at Bard that Fagen first met Walter Becker, with whom he would later form Steely Dan. The final section of the book, ‘With the Dukes of September’, offers a day-by-day account of a tour Fagen undertook last summer across America with Boz Scaggs and Michael McDonald, performing a programme of old R&B and soul tunes as well as some of each of their own hits. Told in a weary, cranky, occasionally biting and always entertaining voice, Fagen brings to life the ups and downs and various indignities and anxieties of being on the road – The Dukes were an admittedly ‘low-rent operation’ compared to a Steely Dan tour – as well as communicating the challenges and joy of playing every night to a different crowd in a different city.