The European history colloquium was essentially a survey of European intellectual history. The professor was Hisham Sharabi, a brilliant, erudite Lebanese who was passionately committed to the Palestinian cause. There were, as I recall, fourteen students in a course that ran fourteen weeks each semester and met for two hours once a week. We read all the books, but each week a student would lead off the discussion with a ten-minute presentation about the book of the week. You could do what you wanted with the ten minutessummarize the book, talk about its central idea, or discuss an aspect of particular interestbut you had to do it in these ten minutes. Sharabi believed that if you couldnt, you didnt understand the book, and he strictly enforced the limit. He did make one exception, for a philosophy major, the first person I ever heard use the word ontologicalfor all I knew, it was a medical specialty. He ran on well past the ten-minute limit, and when he finally ran out of gas, Sharabi stared at him with his big, expressive eyes and said, If I had a gun, I would shoot you. Ouch. I made my presentation on Joseph Schumpeters Capitalism, Socialism, and Democracy. Im not sure how good it was, but I used simple words and, believe it or not, finished in just over nine minutes. "Priests easily influence women," said the doctor, scornfully. Indeed, they would not have been sorry to know that he was dead. 人人操,_CaoPorn超碰免费... My fathers other son was identified as Leon Ritzenthaler, a retired owner of a janitorial service, from northern California. In the article, he said he had written me during the 92 campaign but had received no reply. I dont remember hearing about his letter, and considering all the other bullets we were dodging then, its possible that my staff kept it from me. Or maybe the letter was just misplaced in the mountains of mail we were receiving. Anyway, when I read about Leon, I got in touch with him and later met him and his wife, Judy, during one of my stops in northern California. We had a happy visit and since then weve corresponded in holiday seasons. He and I look alike, his birth certificate says his father was mine, and I wish Id known about him a long time ago. With a half-unconscious attempt at divination, Bergan turned over the leaves of his Prayer Book, during the short pause before the psalm, wondering what other mystic meanings were waiting under familiar words, for his future needs. It was not without a little chill at his heart that his eye caught the opening sentences of the burial anthem. "Rosa, see! Is not that a light in the old Hall?"