Vice


Book Description

9 square miles. 10,000 criminals. 130 cops. A riveting memoir by Baker, California's most-decorated police officer Compton: the most violent and crime-ridden city in America. What had been a semi-rural suburb of Los Angeles in the 1950s became a battleground for the Black Panthers and Malcolm X Foundation, the home of the Crips and Bloods and the first Hispanic gangs, and the cradle of gangster rap. At the center of it, trying to maintain order was the Compton Police Department, never more than 130-strong, and facing an army of criminals that numbered over 10,000. At any given time, fully one-tenth of Compton's population was in prison, yet this tidal wave of crime was held back by the thinnest line of the law—the Compton Police. John R. Baker was raised in Compton, eventually becoming the city's most decorated officer involved in some of its most notorious, horrifying and scandalous criminal cases. Baker's account of Compton from 1950 to 2001 is one of the most powerful and compelling cop memoirs ever written—an intensely human account of sacrifice and public service, and the price the men and women of the Compton Police Department paid to preserve their city.










Wine. All the Time.


Book Description

“Can I just be Marissa, please? I want to be hilarious and sexy and smart and insanely knowledgeable about wine.” —Mindy Kaling A fresh, fun, and unpretentious guide to wine from Marissa A. Ross, official wine columnist for Bon Appétit. Does the thought of having to buy wine for a dinner party stress you out? Is your go-to strategy to pick the bottle with the coolest label? Are you tired of choosing pairings based on your wallet, instead of your palate? Fear not! Bon Appétit wine columnist and Wine. All The Time. blogger Marissa A. Ross is here to help. In this utterly accessible yet comprehensive guide to wine, Ross will walk you through the ins and outs of wine culture. Told in her signature comedic voice, with personal anecdotes woven in among its lessons, Wine. All the Time. will teach you to sip confidently, and make you laugh as you're doing it. In Wine. All The Time., you’ll learn how to: • Describe what you’re drinking, and recognize your preferences • Find the best bottle for you budget and occasion • Read and understand what’s written on a wine label • Make the perfect pairings between what you’re drinking and what you’re eating • Throw the best damn dinner party your guests will ever attend • And much more







The Northeastern Reporter


Book Description

Includes the decisions of the Supreme Courts of Massachusetts, Ohio, Indiana, and Illinois, and Court of Appeals of New York; May/July 1891-Mar./Apr. 1936, Appellate Court of Indiana; Dec. 1926/Feb. 1927-Mar./Apr. 1936, Courts of Appeals of Ohio.




Current Law


Book Description




Dangerous Fictions


Book Description

In a political moment when social panics over literature are at their peak, Dangerous Fictions is a mind-expanding treatise on the nature of fictional stories as cultural battlegrounds for power. Fictional stories have long held an uncanny power over hearts and minds, especially those of young people. In Dangerous Fictions, Lyta Gold traces arguments both historical and contemporary that have labeled fiction as dark, immoral, frightening, or poisonous. Within each she asks: How “dangerous” is fiction, really? And what about it provokes waves of moral panic and even censorship? Gold argues that any panic about art is largely a disguised panic about power. There have been versions of these same fights over fiction for centuries. By exposing fiction as a social danger and a battleground of immediate public concern, we can see what each side really wants—the right to shape the future of a world deeply in flux and a distraction from more pressing material concerns about money, access, and the hard work of politics. From novels about people driven insane by reading novels to “copaganda” TV shows that influence how viewers regard the police, Gold uses her signature wit, research, and fearless commentary to point readers toward a more substantial question: Fiction may be dangerous to us, but aren’t we also dangerous to it?