Sociology Comedy

Chemist Elizabeth Zott is not your average woman. In fact, Elizabeth Zott would be the first to point out that there is no such thing. But it's the early 1960s and her all-male team at Hastings Research Institute take a very unscientific view of equality. Except for one: Calvin Evans; the lonely, brilliant Nobel-prize-nominated grudge-holder who falls in love with—of all things—her mind. True chemistry results.

You Won't Feel a Thing! The Drama, Tragedy, & Comedy of Nursing will provide valuable insights whether you are already nurse or simply want to understand the complexities of the role. Let's face it: the healthcare system has lots of work to do . . . and you probably do, too. It's time to bring the real, raw professional issues of nursing to the forefront. We have taken the hits. We have rolled with the punches. We have bobbed and weaved and bent. Let's work to ensure that bent never becomes broken.

In God Is My Broker, Buckley aims his sharp humor at the self-help gurus; and the likes of Stephen Covey, Anthony Robbins, and Deepak Chopra had better watch out. Down to their last $304, the abbots in this story make a bunch of money playing the stock market - and then get carried away in today's commercialism and self-help principles when they begin to market their homemade wine. From redecorating their decrepit digs in the "peasant chic" style to outrageous television commercials, these monks will stop at nothing to get to the top of the wine business!

Arianna Warsaw-Fan Rauch’s life-long fascination with classical music has taken her through Juilliard and into the shiny world of symphony halls and international concert tours. She’s loved classical music her whole life. But she’s also hated classical music her whole life. After all, if you can like Beyoncé without liking Bieber, you can certainly like Brahms without liking Bach—especially since they were born 148 years apart and the thing we call “classical music” is really just centuries of compositions shoved into one hodge-podge of a genre.

Dennis Miller is back, and he means to shake the nation by its lapels. Miller respects no boundaries. Whether the subject is dope-addled baseball players who can no longer swing their bats, do-nothing politicians who devote their careers to creating meaningful sound bites, or the nation's resigned acceptance of violence as a way of American life, these thematically arranged monologues are funny and angry. More significantly, they shatter the conventions of comedy by simultaneously making us laugh, think, and seethe.

At some point every one of us embarks on a journey to find love. We meet people, date, get into and out of relationships, all with the hope of finding someone with whom we share a deep connection. This seems standard now, but it's wildly different from what people did even just decades ago. Single people today have more romantic options than at any point in human history. With technology, our abilities to connect with and sort through these options are staggering. So why are so many people frustrated?

Was sind das nur für Zeiten? Innerhalb weniger Jahre ist aus uns eine hysterisch-hyperventilierende Gesellschaft geworden, in der sich Wutbürger und Weltverbesserer, vermeintlich Ewiggestrige und Meinungsmissionare feindselig gegenüberstehen. Und die gegenwärtige Krise hat keineswegs zur Verbesserung des Miteinanders geführt, sie hat die Blödheit einiger eher noch verschlimmert.

Darrell Dennis is a stereotype-busting, politically incorrect Native American/Aboriginal/Shuswap. With a large dose of humour and irreverence, he untangles some of the truths and myths about First Nations: Why do people think Natives get free trucks, and why didn’t he ever get one? Why does the length of your hair determine whether you’re good or bad? By what ratio does the amount of rain in a year depend on the amount of cactus liquor you consume? In addition to answering these burning questions, Dennis tackles some tougher subjects.

Mitchell Pierce is a well-off New York ad executive whose marriage is falling apart. He no longer feels any passion for his pregnant wife, Tam, and even feels estranged from his toddler son, Jake. Mitchell is trapped in an unrewarding and loveless life, and though domestic violence isn't in his character, it is never very far away, either. Mitchell's life will irrevocably change one day, though, when a young man appears at his apartment door to pick up the family's black maid, Opal, for a date. Cooley it turns out is not a stranger to the household.

Popular Instagram artist Beth Evans tackles a range of issues - from whimsical musings to deeply personal struggles - in this imaginative anti-guide to being your own person. Like Mindy Kaling meets Hyperbole and a Half, I Really Didn’t Think This Through gets at the heart of what makes life both so challenging and so joyful - figuring out how to be a person in the world.

We all know how Darth Vader shared his big secret with Luke Skywalker, but what if he had delivered the news in a handwritten note instead? And what if someone found that letter, as well as all of the drafts that landed in the Dark Lord’s trash can? In the riotously funny collection Dear Luke, We Need to Talk. Darth, John Moe finally reveals these lost notes alongside all the imagined letters, e-mails, text messages, and other correspondences your favorite pop culture icons never meant for you to see.

Mark Falanga is a slick urban dweller, at the top of his game professionally, with a gorgeous corporate executive wife and a hip coterie in the coolest neighborhood in the city. But when baby makes three, Mark and his family enter the twilight zone called the suburbs, where public schools are good, many wives stay home, and children ride their tricycles in the driveway.

Shepherd Mead's hilarious and timely Male Manifesto takes a fresh look at the issues and perils of the coming sexual war and exhorts his comrades-in-arms to rally 'round this book, boys, in one of the most delightfully chauvinistic satires to come along in years.

Il nous avait tous réunis, sur le golf somptueux de sa demeure privée. Et nous le suivions radieux, portant fièrement à tour de rôle le sac garni de ses clubs.