“” This manuscript was not supposed to go public. However, because it was written in three joined parts and over two consecutive years, there was a problem as to what to call it chronically, 1969-2011 or 1969-2012. So the author chose the latter. Author, Mr. Redus, has looked into the cathode ray tube of his soul to find his way out of his "commonplace silencing." (It is what A Quotidian Quash really means). Actually, in his book, the evolving cosmological TV energy of his puzzling psychiatric history from junior college years to decades as a psychiatric inpatient unfolds and jumps. A Quotidian Quash also puts forth two new cosmic theories, RCTVU (relativistic color television universe) and STS (space-time sphere), as Mr. Redus also "blows the whistle" on California's Department of State hospitals for being a psychiatric minatorial minotaur masquerading as a menial mentor. There is evidence of his many past psychiatrists' paranoia in this book, but when his psychiatric future arrives, his tomorrow, comes to us as his RCTVU theory, pristine and virgin, it is excellent and okay as it puts itself in his creative hands. Moreover, it requires that we have learned something from our evolutionary yesterday or from God in and subtly outside of his book's other speculative theory, STS theory. This is a book of many therapeutic letters mostly to his California therapists. And in it, we learn that they were so very interested in recording "something wrong" with him, their long-term psychiatric patient, Mr. Redus, that there became "something very obviously paranoid and wrong" with how all of his California therapists treated him, their long-term psychiatric patient, from the start of his treatment to the finish of my treatment with them. Mr. Redus was sequestered by psychiatrists who were checked and balanced only by their own inappropriate oblivion to their regular mistakes and convenient misstatements.

In Intimate Diversity Paul Smith explores the question, 'What grace can be found in the gift of interreligious marriage?' He investigates the experience of interfaith couples for theological themes and from a mssional standpoint.

From the sixteenth to early-nineteenth century, four times more Africans than Europeans crossed the Atlantic Ocean to the Americas. While this forced migration stripped slaves of their liberty, it failed to destroy many of their cultural practices, which came with Africans to the New World. In Working the Diaspora, Frederick Knight examines work cultures on both sides of the Atlantic, from West and West Central Africa to British North America and the Caribbean. Knight demonstrates that the knowledge that Africans carried across the Atlantic shaped Anglo-American agricultural development and made particularly important contributions to cotton, indigo, tobacco, and staple food cultivation. The book also compellingly argues that the work experience of slaves shaped their views of the natural world. Broad in scope, clearly written, and at the center of current scholarly debates, Working the Diaspora challenges readers to alter their conceptual frameworks about Africans by looking at them as workers who, through the course of the Atlantic slave trade and plantation labor, shaped the development of the Americas in significant ways.

Brett Gray traces the portrayal of Christ that emerges throughout Williams' diverse writings, including in his engagements with literature and philosophy. What emerges is a vision of Jesus that grows from the roots of the Christian tradition, but is pronounced in a contemporary idiom and sensitive to modern concerns. Although attentive to the broad sweep of the Christian tradition, Williams' Christology is also seen in this book to be a particular British artefact, shaped in dialogue with thinkers such as Donald MacKinnon and Gillian Rose. What is ultimately brought to the surface in this work is the profoundly hopeful, if frequently under-pronounced, eschatology underlying Williams' Christology. Jesus is the “last word”, changing creation's possibilities and summoning it into an endless and vivifying journey.

The Legend of St Brendan is a study of two accounts of a voyage undertaken by Brendan, a sixth-century Irish saint. The immense popularity of the Latin version encouraged many vernacular translations, including a twelfth-century Anglo-Norman reworking of the narrative which excises much of the devotional material seen in the ninth-century Navigatio Sancti Brendani abbatis and changes the emphasis, leaving a recognisably secular narrative. The vernacular version focuses on marvellous imagery and the trials and tribulations of a long sea-voyage. Together the two versions demonstrate a movement away from hagiography towards adventure. Studies of the two versions rarely discuss the elements of the fantastic. Following a summary of authorship, audiences and sources, this comparative study adopts a structural approach to the two versions of the Brendan narrative. It considers what the fantastic imagery achieves and addresses issues raised with respect to theological parallels.

Drawing on archives on both sides of the border, the author chronicles the political currents which created and then undermined the Mexican border as a relative safe haven for African Americans.

Eight years ago, readers were invited to accompany Maurice Locksley on his rounds, as he paid court to his wife, his ex-wife, and his mistress in dizzying succession. The Marriage Hearse, his account of that wild winter’s night, was judged “one of the funniest, smartest, and most generous novels about marriage from a male point of view.” (Phyllis Rose, The Nation) Now, eight years older in The Alibi Breakfast, Locksley is still “laugh-out-loud funny” (Bloomsbury Review) but not nearly so cocky as he contemplates the possibility that his riches are reduced to a single woman—or is it even worse than that? Duberstein’s prose is as rich, precise, and allusive as ever; the people in his “house” are as real as the people in your house (terrifying thought), and he weaves the varied strands of plot into a tale of rare depth and integrity.