The quest for economic development is arguably the most frustrating and tragic dimension of human existence in Africa. As its primary task, The Split Time constructs an economic philosophy from a tradition of thought that is indigenous to Africa, arguing that there are long-neglected resources within African philosophy to guide economic policymakers toward creating an African economy that can sustain human flourishing. Exploring notions of destiny, temporality, and desire, Nimi Wariboko constructs an economic-philosophical framework to rethink solutions to the vexing problem of economic development in Africa. He also provides a robust social-ethical perspective in which the basic aspects of economic life—the agential (accounts of human agency, telos), the circumstantial (material/social context), and the affective (to feel appropriately what matters to a people in an economy or their desire for human flourishing)—come together to fire social imagination about development policies for the common good.

'Chick lit meets feminism' in this first humorous novel in the Penny Rushmore trilogy about being stuck in the Sandwich Generation. Penny Rushmore is a typical baby boomer, sandwiched between her warring teenagers and an increasingly dotty mother, whilst running her own business and worrying about a wayward husband, hot flushes and an expanding waistline. Her great-grandmother, a passionate suffragette and temperance advocate, was equally torn between demanding daughters and a dependent mother showing early signs of dementia. When Penny discovers her great-grandmother's letters, she is almost at the end of her tether. Will the words of another woman from another time help Penny deal with having to split her time amongst so many others?

This classic work of science fiction is widely considered to be the ultimate time-travel novel. When Daniel Eakins inherits a time machine, he soon realizes that he has enormous power to shape the course of history. He can foil terrorists, prevent assassinations, or just make some fast money at the racetrack. And if he doesn't like the results of the change, he can simply go back in time and talk himself out of making it! But Dan soon finds that there are limits to his powers and forces beyond his control.

In the postbellum nineteenth century, journalism reached larger audiences with more information in less time. With the rise of industrialization and mechanization, the means of conveying news to the public improved dramatically. In 1873 Frederic Hudson, one of the nation's first journalism historians, predicted that these technological advances would spawn genuinely national newspapers. Such publications would be circulated to all parts of the country by means of pneumatic tubes, he wrote, which could convey newspapers from one coast to the other within three hours. The prophesy of compressed air blowing bunches of newspapers across the length and breadth of the country was so far awry that it is amusing to consider today. However, Hudson's forecast of a national newspaper, which seemed just as far-fetched in that era of a distinctly provincial press, came to fruition in only the following decade. As the population soared (due in large measure to immigration), as urban areas blossomed, and as the public became increasingly literate, more people turned to newspapers for information about their community and nation. It was against this backdrop that the Saturday Globe was born in 1881. From its auspicious infancy in Utica, New York, the Saturday Globe grew into a major newspaper with nationwide circulation. Through its pioneering use of regional editions, it became the first truly national newspaper in United States history. It served as a unifying force for disparate communities, which were constantly being redefined by the expansion of industry and the increase in population. The Saturday Globe's readership, which peaked at nearly 300,000, was attracted by its stunning artwork, its national scope, and its charming miscellany of stories. In many ways, the Saturday Globe was a theoretical forerunner of USA Today. Although it eschewed the political partisanship so common among newspapers of the era, the Saturday Globe emanated a morally conservative tenor, which was sometimes difficult to reconcile with the newspaper's tendency toward sensationalism. Relying on many diverse sources, Ralph Frasca constructs a comprehensive social history of the Saturday Globe, placing it in a larger context by showing how cultural, technological, economic, demographic, and journalistic forces in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries both created a milieu for the Saturday Globe's inception and success and lead to its demise forty-three years later. The story of the Saturday Globe offers insight into the processes by which mighty newspapers rise, fall, and erode into the deepest recesses of time. The survival of America's newspapers is just as much a concern now as when the Saturday Globe, a mere husk of its former self, folded. While the Saturday Globe fought a losing battle against imitators and magazines, today's newspapers wage a similar war against the encroachment of the broadcast media. The history of the Saturday Globe offers a compelling case study of a major newspaper's rise and fall.

The story of W.K.L. Dickson—assistant to Edison, inventor, and key figure in early cinematography: “Valuable and comprehensive.” —Communication Booknotes Quarterly W.K.L. Dickson was Thomas Edison’s assistant in charge of the experimentation that led to the Kinetoscope and Kinetograph—the first commercially successful moving image machines. In 1891–1892, he established what we know today as the 35mm format. Dickson also designed the Black Maria film studio and facilities to develop and print film, and supervised production of more than one hundred films for Edison. After leaving Edison, he became a founding member of the American Mutoscope Company, which later became the American Mutoscope & Biograph, then Biograph. In 1897, he went to England to set up the European branch of the company. Over the course of his career, Dickson made between five hundred and seven hundred films, which are studied today by scholars of the early cinema. This well-illustrated book offers a window onto early film history from the perspective of Dickson’s own oeuvre.