Posts Tagged ‘death’
A British farce returns, African-Americanized and slightly better.
Marginally less annoying than the British movie that it’s based on, Death at a Funeral stars Chris Rock as a tax accountant/unpublished novelist named Aaron who’s dealing with a host of troublesome family issues after his f...
As grim accounts of the earthquake in Haiti came in, the accounts in U.S. news media all carried the same sentence: “Haiti is the poorest country in the Western hemisphere.”
Talented though he is, Colin Firth has never shown that much range. While his close contemporary Hugh Grant has made a career out of playing different variations on the same randy bon vivant, Firth has made his largely by playi...
Destined to be Hank Hill’s least favorite art show, Death of a Propane Salesman is all about anxiety, and is there ever a lot of it in Lawrence Lee’s picture of a crazed horse or Seth Alverson’s apocalyptic ta...
John Q. Public
To the editor: The Nov. 11 Static column, “What Will it Take?,” continues the saga of Taser guns and the dangerous, sometimes lethal ramifications from their 50,000-volt power.
Sometimes, surely, opponents of Tasers must feel like they are in a nightmare, where they are screaming but no sound comes out. Especially in states like Texas where, despite a growing death toll, too many law enforcement agenc...
A well-earned tip of the hat to Tarrant County Medical Examiner Nizam Peerwani, whose long-awaited decision on the April 18 cause of death of 24-year-old Michael Patrick Jacobs Jr. – who died shortly after being jolted tw...
The Federal Bureau of Prisons seldom loses when a prisoner’s family tries to take it to court to right some wrong. Two weeks ago it did.
“Breaking News: Michael Jackson Still Weird and Still Dead!” CNN plays continuously throughout the day at my house as a kind of background noise. The amount of coverage being given to Jackson’s death is smothering, and I ...
Here’s what I remember of Derek St. Holmes: listening to “Stranglehold” over and over while doing curls with red Kmart weights in front of a full-length mirror in my stuffy attic bedroom nine million years ago.