The Referendum, and Its Discontents
To every thing turn, turn, turn, turn. There is a season, and a time to every purpose under Heaven. When is the time to turn the other cheek, and when, before it’s too late, is the time to bring in the lawyers?
Bad Jews, an apparent heir, and a rock critic
Midway through I found myself thinking, in all sincerity, that while it might be alright for Jews to grapple with this shocking display of extreme caricature grounded in recognizable reality, I sure hoped none of the goyim were watching: they might not understand.-- BY MYRON MEISEL
Paul Birchall’s Final Letter From the Fringe
Just last night, I found myself emerging from a theater at the Complex (Santa Monica Blvd., near Wilcox) at 8:15 and needing to zip to Theater of NOTE (Cahuenga Blvd., north of Sunset) for a show at 8:30. The Uber got me there like a Star Trek Transporter. And, after spotting my badge, I have to confess the Uber driver revealed that he was a comedian performing frequently at one of the Improv Olympic-y theaters at the Complex. His girlfriend was in a fringe show herself. Welcome to Los Angeles, where even (and perhaps especially) your Uber driver is chasing some theatrical dream.--BY PAUL BIRCHALL
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