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OUR OCCULTED HISTORY

DO THE GLOBAL ELITE CONCEAL ANCIENT ALIENS?

To call this hokum is to malign that useful word. Suffice it to say that Carpenter’s film is a hell of a lot more fun.

An Art Bell–like exercise in conspiracy theory.

Fans of Rowdy Roddy Piper’s John Carpenter romp They Live (1988) know the setup: “conventional science, and perhaps even institutions administered by the federal government or funded by the wealthy elite, has worked to conceal our possible true heritage.” Noting the weasel words “perhaps” and “possible,” what might that heritage be? Well, children, we’re all stardust, and in the weirdness of our DNA—so much of which, conspiracy theorist Marrs (The Rise of the Fourth Reich: The Secret Societies that Threaten to Take Over America, 2008, etc.) writes, is made up of a useless, redundant nothingness of dead code—we may just harbor clues to a time when strange critters called the Anunnaki strode the Earth. Or maybe most of us are just meat for the overlords, who are biding their time—and maybe the “wealthy elite” and their minions are really the Anunnaki in disguise. After all, you knew Mitt Romney acted a little weirdly and robotically up there on the hustings, didn’t you? Throughout this book, which P.T. Barnum would have loved, Marrs throws every conspiracy theory he can at the problem, from the “occulted” existence of a 10th planet in the solar system (the masters don’t want you to know about that, of course) to alchemy and the hidden history of gold. The result is an odd sort of populism, whereby we earthlings are urged to rebel against our corporate overlords and their “millennia-long agenda of attempting to subjugate the human population.” Huzzah!

To call this hokum is to malign that useful word. Suffice it to say that Carpenter’s film is a hell of a lot more fun.

Pub Date: Feb. 12, 2013

ISBN: 978-0-06-213031-0

Page Count: 384

Publisher: Morrow/HarperCollins

Review Posted Online: Dec. 22, 2012

Kirkus Reviews Issue: Jan. 15, 2013

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THE ART OF SOLITUDE

A very welcome instance of philosophy that can help readers live a good life.

A teacher and scholar of Buddhism offers a formally varied account of the available rewards of solitude.

“As Mother Ayahuasca takes me in her arms, I realize that last night I vomited up my attachment to Buddhism. In passing out, I died. In coming to, I was, so to speak, reborn. I no longer have to fight these battles, I repeat to myself. I am no longer a combatant in the dharma wars. It feels as if the course of my life has shifted onto another vector, like a train shunted off its familiar track onto a new trajectory.” Readers of Batchelor’s previous books (Secular Buddhism: Imagining the Dharma in an Uncertain World, 2017, etc.) will recognize in this passage the culmination of his decadeslong shift away from the religious commitments of Buddhism toward an ecumenical and homegrown philosophy of life. Writing in a variety of modes—memoir, history, collage, essay, biography, and meditation instruction—the author doesn’t argue for his approach to solitude as much as offer it for contemplation. Essentially, Batchelor implies that if you read what Buddha said here and what Montaigne said there, and if you consider something the author has noticed, and if you reflect on your own experience, you have the possibility to improve the quality of your life. For introspective readers, it’s easy to hear in this approach a direct response to Pascal’s claim that “all of humanity's problems stem from man's inability to sit quietly in a room alone.” Batchelor wants to relieve us of this inability by offering his example of how to do just that. “Solitude is an art. Mental training is needed to refine and stabilize it,” he writes. “When you practice solitude, you dedicate yourself to the care of the soul.” Whatever a soul is, the author goes a long way toward soothing it.

A very welcome instance of philosophy that can help readers live a good life.

Pub Date: Feb. 18, 2020

ISBN: 978-0-300-25093-0

Page Count: 200

Publisher: Yale Univ.

Review Posted Online: Nov. 24, 2019

Kirkus Reviews Issue: Dec. 15, 2019

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ON LIVING

A moving, heartfelt account of a hospice veteran.

Lessons about life from those preparing to die.

A longtime hospice chaplain, Egan (Fumbling: A Pilgrimage Tale of Love, Grief, and Spiritual Renewal on the Camino de Santiago, 2004) shares what she has learned through the stories of those nearing death. She notices that for every life, there are shared stories of heartbreak, pain, guilt, fear, and regret. “Every one of us will go through things that destroy our inner compass and pull meaning out from under us,” she writes. “Everyone who does not die young will go through some sort of spiritual crisis.” The author is also straightforward in noting that through her experiences with the brokenness of others, and in trying to assist in that brokenness, she has found healing for herself. Several years ago, during a C-section, Egan suffered a bad reaction to the anesthesia, leading to months of psychotic disorders and years of recovery. The experience left her with tremendous emotional pain and latent feelings of shame, regret, and anger. However, with each patient she helped, the author found herself better understanding her own past. Despite her role as a chaplain, Egan notes that she rarely discussed God or religious subjects with her patients. Mainly, when people could talk at all, they discussed their families, “because that is how we talk about God. That is how we talk about the meaning of our lives.” It is through families, Egan began to realize, that “we find meaning, and this is where our purpose becomes clear.” The author’s anecdotes are often thought-provoking combinations of sublime humor and tragic pathos. She is not afraid to point out times where she made mistakes, even downright failures, in the course of her work. However, the nature of her work means “living in the gray,” where right and wrong answers are often hard to identify.

A moving, heartfelt account of a hospice veteran.

Pub Date: Oct. 25, 2016

ISBN: 978-1-59463-481-9

Page Count: 224

Publisher: Riverhead

Review Posted Online: Aug. 2, 2016

Kirkus Reviews Issue: Aug. 15, 2016

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