July 4th of this year found me seperated from fireworks and backyard barbecue, alone and in my livingroom with the laptop, and a History Channel marathon of The American Revolution. While running wild on Twitter and Facebook, I got to know better the editor of the brilliant new ezine, Specter Mag...
I picked this book up a very long time ago at a bookstore that is now defunct. Chase-Riboud's novel tells the story of Sarah Baartman, a Khoikhoi woman who was exhibited as a freak show attraction in London and Paris in the early 1800s. I knew going in that this book was not going to be a fun rea...
Harriet martineau, Society in America, 1837 THE RECORDER Richmond September 1st, 1802 It is well known that the man, whom it delighteth the people to honor, keeps, and for many years past has kept, as his concubine, one of his slaves. Her name is sally. The name of her eldest son is Tom. His ...
Thomas Jefferson I wondered if my mother would have appreciated the irony of my white knight in shining armor having been dipped in the African sun. But my mother was not here. Thenia was the only member of my family at my wedding. She stood, her heart-shaped face with its noble forehead and over...
Acknowledging that relation is the material manifestation of the soul . . .Shit moon, the English month of September, 1810. I created a sensation on the wharf, in the customs house, in the open horse-drawn carriage we took to London piled with luggage covered with Master Dunlop’s giraffe skin. In...