B l o o d O f M y F a t h e r s Blood of My Fathers, a dramatic work of art, is a story told in poetic form about the migration of blacks from the African coast to the Americas. It is a short discourse that provides the innocence of an African pride made captive from the motherland. The blood is intertwined into the fabric of time. It is an era full of history, oppression, and sadness. It is a sojourner connection with echoes of the past. The beat of freedom became the beat of Africa' rhythmic song. From a lacerated soul arose a wellspring of history. The blood endured and became Children of the Dream. The blood was borne free to the dream. The blood provided a legacy for all under a dark struggle. We have become a new generation of wisdom and accountability. The culture of me is of the O era. We have arisen beyond our past because the freedom of me is free.

We regard genocidal violence as worse than other sorts of violence—perhaps the worst there is. But what does this say about what we value about the genos on which nations are said to be founded? This is an urgent question for democracies. We value the mode of being in time that anchors us in the past and in the future, that is, among those who have been and those who might yet be. If the genos is a group constituted by this generational time, the demos was invented as the anti-genos, with no criterion of inheritance and instead only occurring according to the interruption of revolutionary time. Insofar as the demos persists, we experience it as a sort of genos, for example, the democratic nation state. As a result, democracies are caught is a bind, disavowing genos-thinking while cherishing the temporal forms of genos-life; they abhor genocidal violence but perpetuate and disguise it. This is the genocide paradox. O’Byrne traces the problem through our commitment to existential categories from Aristotle to the life taxonomies of Linneaus and Darwin, through anthropologies of kinship that tether us to the social world, the shortfalls of ethical theory, into the history of democratic theory and the defensive tactics used by real existing democracies when it came to defining genocide for the U.N. Genocide Convention. She argues that, although models of democracy all make room for contestation, they fail to grasp its generational structure or acknowledge the generational content of our lives. They cultivate ignorance of the contingency and precarity of the relations that create and sustain us. The danger of doing so is immense. It leaves us unprepared for confronting democracy’s deficits and its struggle to entertain multiple temporalities. In addition, it leaves us unprepared for understanding the relation between demos and violence, and the ability of good enough citizens to tolerate the slow-burning destruction of marginalized peoples. What will it take to envision an anti-genocidal democracy?

A seventy year old man still feels like there are things to do and time to do it in. NO ONE gets out of this World alive but why sit and wait, life is still good and there are many things to do. The author wrote a number of short stories taken from his personal experiences and wanted to publish them. Instead he decided to write an auto biography and inserting these short stories as they really happened.

It’s everywhere: from the laws of citizenship to the detection of doping in sport, from the books of the Old Testament and the acts of Macbeth to the mudbloods of Harry Potter and the vampires of Twilight. Blood fills our imagination, just as fully as it fills our veins. In this provocative exploration of the medical and social history of blood, from ancient times to today, award-winning novelist Lawrence Hill considers blood’s scientific, cultural, psychological and political aspects. He charts how our understanding of blood has developed over the centuries, sharing a close-up view of William Harvey’s bloody dissection table at which the seventeenth-century physician shocked his peers, using a live dog to prove that blood circulates. But blood isn’t just about the body, and Hill also reveals how ideas about blood purity have spawned rules on who gets to belong to a family, who enjoys the rights of citizenship and what defines a person’s identity. As Hill powerfully and lyrically conveys, blood counts in virtually every aspect of our being that matters.

In a time of madness, is love worth the risk? As a maid in the Kremlin Palace, Inga is mostly invisible. Courtiers are likely to use and discard her if she lets them. A lesson she learns when her best friend is brutally attacked. Inga steers clear of romance, intrigue, and men in general afterwards. It makes for a lonely life but invisibility is the key to safety. As a boy in the Kremlin, Taras lost his mother to mysterious circumstances. He returns as a man to discover what really happened. Closed-mouthed courtiers make his task difficult. Dangers mount as Tsar Ivan IV, called Terrible, slides toward insanity. The opulence of Ivan’s court hides deadly secrets, and Taras must turn to the muddy streets of Moscow to learn the truth. When a brutal courtier sets his eyes on Inga, she turns to Taras for help. He pretends to take her as his mistress to save her from Sergei’s dangerous bed. It’s a compromising situation, but before long, true sparks ignite between them. Inga must decide if happiness with Taras is worth forfeiting her invisibility and breaking down the walls built up so carefully around her heart. If Inga and Taras don’t successfully traverse the dangers of the imperial court of Russia, they may be swept up in the blood bath of Ivan Grozny. Two more forgotten victims in a time of love and madness… A sweeping historical epic full of wars, intrigues, death, and love. "Definitely ranks among the best of epic sagas!” –S. Wright

A historian's personal journey into the complex questions of immigration, home and nation From Ireland to London in the 1950s, Derry in the Troubles to contemporary, de-industrialised Manchester, Joyce finds the ties of place, family and the past are difficult to break. Why do certain places continue to haunt us? What does it mean to be British after the suffering of Empire and of war? How do we make our home in a hypermobile world without remembering our pasts? Patrick Joyce's parents moved from Ireland in the 1930s and made their home in west London. But they never really left the homeland. And so as he grew up among the streets of Paddington and Notting Hill and when he visited his family in Ireland he felt a tension between the notions of home, nation and belonging. Going to My Father's House charts the historian's attempt to make sense of these ties and to see how they manifest in a globalised world. He explores the places - the house, the street, the walls and the graves - that formed his own identity. He ask what place the ideas of history, heritage and nostalgia have in creating a sense of our selves. He concludes with a plea for a history that holds the past to account but also allows for dynamic, inclusive change.

My Father's Heroes is the story of a 2nd generation Italian-American boy, Frankie, growing up in New York during the 1940'to 1960's, who is torn between his mother's deeply religious beliefs and his father's prophetic pragmatism. Frankie's father, a die- hard Yankee fan, uses baseball and the players of their generation to bond with him. Through Frankie's eyes, we see the Roosevelt years, World War II, the Atom Bomb, the Cuban Missile Crisis and other world events unfold. This is a gritty tale of growing up in the Bronx after WWII, and a father's love of his son as he experiences the trials of adolescence. It's through their discussions and admiration for the baseball players of that era that Franco and his father form a strong father-son bond, Franco's story, however, also includes episodes of ethnic conflict, child sexual abuse, and a stunning ending.