Kirjahaku

In Dangerous Guests, Ken Miller reveals how wartime pressures nurtured a budding patriotism in the ethnically diverse revolutionary community of Lancaster, Pennsylvania. During the War for Independence, American revolutionaries held more than thirteen thousand prisoners—both British regulars and their so-called Hessian auxiliaries—in makeshift detention camps far from the fighting. As the Americans' principal site for incarcerating enemy prisoners of war, Lancaster stood at the nexus of two vastly different revolutionary worlds: one national, the other intensely local. Captives came under the control of local officials loosely supervised by state and national authorities. Concentrating the prisoners in the heart of their communities brought the revolutionaries' enemies to their doorstep, with residents now facing a daily war at home. Many prisoners openly defied their hosts, fleeing, plotting, and rebelling, often with the clandestine support of local loyalists. By early 1779, General George Washington, furious over the captives' ongoing attempts to subvert the American war effort, branded them "dangerous guests in the bowels of our Country." The challenge of creating an autonomous national identity in the newly emerging United States was nowhere more evident than in Lancaster, where the establishment of a detention camp served as a flashpoint for new conflict in a community already unsettled by stark ethnic, linguistic, and religious differences. Many Lancaster residents soon sympathized with the Hessians detained in their town while the loyalist population considered the British detainees to be the true patriots of the war. Miller demonstrates that in Lancaster, the notably local character of the war reinforced not only preoccupations with internal security but also novel commitments to cause and country.

In Dangerous Guests, Ken Miller reveals how wartime pressures nurtured a budding patriotism in the ethnically diverse revolutionary community of Lancaster, Pennsylvania. During the War for Independence, American revolutionaries held more than thirteen thousand prisoners—both British regulars and their so-called Hessian auxiliaries—in makeshift detention camps far from the fighting. As the Americans' principal site for incarcerating enemy prisoners of war, Lancaster stood at the nexus of two vastly different revolutionary worlds: one national, the other intensely local. Captives came under the control of local officials loosely supervised by state and national authorities. Concentrating the prisoners in the heart of their communities brought the revolutionaries' enemies to their doorstep, with residents now facing a daily war at home. Many prisoners openly defied their hosts, fleeing, plotting, and rebelling, often with the clandestine support of local loyalists. By early 1779, General George Washington, furious over the captives' ongoing attempts to subvert the American war effort, branded them "dangerous guests in the bowels of our Country." The challenge of creating an autonomous national identity in the newly emerging United States was nowhere more evident than in Lancaster, where the establishment of a detention camp served as a flashpoint for new conflict in a community already unsettled by stark ethnic, linguistic, and religious differences. Many Lancaster residents soon sympathized with the Hessians detained in their town while the loyalist population considered the British detainees to be the true patriots of the war. Miller demonstrates that in Lancaster, the notably local character of the war reinforced not only preoccupations with internal security but also novel commitments to cause and country.

Discover the novel called a "brilliant read, funny and poignant, with an insider's knowledge of Wall Street" that plunges readers into the financial sector's ruthless heart, where fortune, ambition, and betrayal collide in the rise and devastating fall of a financial titan. (New York Times bestselling author Elliott Ackerman) Told from the perspectives of those in and around the pathways of money and power, High Finance is a debut novel that takes us inside one of the most volatile periods in Wall Street's history through the lens of Jed Czincosca, who came to Wall Street from Chicago in 1977 to get rich and rise to the pinnacle of American success. He did what it takes to make it to the top, letting nothing hold him back. While orchestrating multibillion-dollar deals and becoming spectacularly wealthy, Jed binges on pot and alcohol, trades on inside information, cheats on his wife, and becomes one of Wall Street's key players. At the dawn of the new century, with a monomaniacal obsession Jed borrows to buy as many shares of Lehman Brothers as he can get his hands on, only to be wiped out on that fateful September day when Lehman was fed to the wolves. Forced from his four-bedroom duplex on Park Avenue to a cheap rental in the working-class town of Patchogue, is redemption and resurrection for Jed even possible? Through a kaleidoscope of voices--his wife, his British secretary, his Marxist brother, the Lehman "informant," an internal auditor dedicated to Jed's destruction, and others--we come to intimately understand Jed and how the unpredictable external forces to which we are all susceptible shape and define us. The bankruptcy of Lehman Brothers was a pivotal moment in the 2008 crash of the financial markets that led to job losses, a housing market crisis, and a global recession whose effects are still being felt to this day. In telling the story of one man at the center of this moment, Ken Miller offers us a new perspective on Wall Street in the twenty-first century.

Have you ever been really thirsty? Like when the afternoon fun at the lake ends, or the ninth inning brings a well-earned win Nothing can beat an icy glass of chilly water sloshing down our dry and dusty throats to quench a well-earned thirst. While that cold water satisfies the demands of our physical body, are we merely bodies requiring water? Or, are we more than that? What quenches the thirst in our soul and spirit, those innermost parts of us that can't be touched by human hands? How are they nurtured? In a conversation with a Samaritan woman, Jesus told of a "living water" that, if she would drink of this water she would never be thirsty again. (John 4:10-15) He was, of course, referring to "spiritual" water. That is the only kind of water that will quench a thirsty spirit. Inside this book you will find 93 drinks of "living water". Some will make you smile, some will make you think, but all will draw you to Jesus, the One who was raised from the dead, lives today, and wants to get to know you

The Caribbean, or Spanish Main, has been home to Indians, pirates, explorers, divers, and treasure hunters. One island in particular, lying in the western Caribbean, has a rich history involving all of them. This is the story of that island. " Caribbean Island" is historical fiction. Each chapter is based on a true incident. When Columbus actually visited the island on his fourth and last voyage to the new world he found Maya in a canoe longer than his flagship.The Maya had been holding ceremonies for centuries before Columbus in caves found on the island. Their artifacts have been discovered in the last few decades. English and Spanish pirates (which are which depends on your point of view) fought over the island for centuries. Roatan changed hands many times due to their battles.This is their story, starting with Columbus, and this is the story of the island, Guanaja.

More than Fifteen Minutes of Fame tracks screen performance’s trajectory from dominant discourses of realism and authenticity towards increasingly acute degrees of self-referentiality and self-reflexivity. Exploring the symbiotic relationship between changing forms of onscreen representation and our shifting status as social subjects, the book provides an original perspective through international examples from cinema, experimental production, documentary, television, and the burgeoning landscape of online screen performance. In an emerging culture of participatory media, the creation of a screen-based presence for our own performances of identity has become a currency through which we validate ourselves as subjects of the contemporary, hyper-mediatized world. In this post-dramatic, post-Warhol climate, the author’s contention is that we are becoming increasingly wedded to screen media – not just as consumers but as producers and performers.