John Mullin listened to the new Springsteen, then read what other people wrote about it and got angry. Not angry like early Springsteen, who was never really angry, but angry like later Springsteen, who was a little angry but still not that angry, really.

We all have fears. Some of us are afraid of spiders, or drowning, or that the Hollywood portrayal of a female politician will focus more on the struggles of being a woman in a man's world than on the poor policy choices she made. Amanda Watson faced her fears and reviews The Iron Lady.

Gene Roddenberry’s Star Trek: The Next Generation ran from 1987-1994—the formative years of my childhood. Watching TNG was a family ritual during these years (what else did I have to do in the evenings? I was eight!) I was a somewhat willing victim of the exposure and, let’s face it, so were you.

But this is 2030 and Tokyo, where tragedy in one’s personal life is the missing ingredient to unlock science’s great mysteries. The now-inspired scientist finally completes his greatest work: a human robot. He names it Toby, but we know him better as Astro Boy.

Then there are the societal oddities. It’s not clear why Callenbach thought that a progressively ecological society would bring with it so much sexual liberation that not only would polyamory be encouraged, but monogamy discouraged.

My copy of Greg Whincup’s The Heart of Chinese Poetry was rescued from a disastrous, disorganized used book store on Yonge Street in Toronto. I’m no longer sure which store, but I can recall the way the alphabetization ran first sideways to the right, then down, then left, then down again, and how books were stacked back-to-face instead of standing beside one another with the spines outward.