Chicago – Page 3 – Life on the Wicked Stage: Act 3

Fall Leavings

Just a quick share of a quick shot I grabbed that captures the season, and I dare say, my mood.

It’s only business they say. Nothing personal. That’s the way the world works. Well, what I share each week in Sunday Morning Reading always comes from a place of personal interest. That may not be how the world works, but it works for me and I hope it does for you. Call it a small act.

In the wake of the continuing and confounding ICE occupation of Chicago comes a terrific piece by Kyle Kingsbury called I Want You To Understand Chicago.

Follow that up with a ProPublica piece by Melissa Sanches, Jodi S. Cohen, T. Christian Miller, Sebastian Rotella and Mariam Elba about the nighttime raid on a Chicago apartment building that featured men rappelling from Black Hawk helicopters, and all of the residents emptied on to the streets with many of their belongings. The punchline is in the article’s title, “I Lost Everything”; Venezuelans Were Rounded Up In A Dramatic Midnight Raid But Never Charged With A Crime.

A Nation of Heroes, A Senate Of Cowards by Will Bunch calls it like it is and much the way I see things after last weekend’s actions in the U.S. Senate.

Growing up, I never understood the cliché, “it’s nothing personal, it’s only business.” Frankly I still don’t. It excuses too much that I find wrong about the way the world works. Charles Broskoski examines the personal side in Personal Business.

And speaking of the way the world works (or doesn’t) in the midst of the Epstein fever I don’t think we’ll ever shake, Sarah Lyons points out that the violence in his and others’ actions is something we all live with in This Is How The World Works. It shouldn’t be.

Corbin Trent says We Didn’t Kill American Manufacturing—We Let It Die. He’s spot on.

Mark Jacob tells us How News Coverage Eases Us Into Tyranny. However this saga we’re living through ends up, one thing is for certain. The media has killed any chance of returning to what it once was.

Hardly a day goes by that we don’t read of some nefarious business practice spilling out of Mark Zuckerberg’s Meta. Turns out Meta is knowingly leeching off of scammers to the tune of about 10 percent of its revenue. I guess that makes Meta and Zuckerberg a scammer too. Cath Virginia has the writeup with Meta Must Rein In Scammers — Or Face Consequences. I doubt they will.

The Internet Archive is under attack in the same way libraries, media organizations, and text book publishing is. It shouldn’t be. Mathew Ingram has the lowdown in The Internet Archive Should Be Protected Not Attacked.

On a more positive note, Jeff Veen tells us how Small Acts Build Great Cultures. Boy, do we need lots of small acts these days.

To close out, did you ever wonder where collective nouns like “a watch of nightingales” or “an ostentation of peacocks” come from? For many years it was assumed that the anonymous author of this collection of collective nouns was the work of a “gentleman of excellent gifts” written down in one of the first books printed after the invention of The Gutenberg Press, The Book of Hawking, Hunting, and Blazing of Arms. Turns out the author was a woman named Juliana Barnes. Maria Popova has the story in A Parliament of Owls And A Murder Of Crows: How Groups Of Birds Got Their Names, With Wondrous Vintage Illustrations By Brian Wordsmith.

(Image form Ganesh Narahanan on Unsplash)

If you’re interested in just what the heck Sunday Morning Reading is all about you can read more about the origins of Sunday Morning Reading here. If you’d like more click on the Sunday Morning Reading link in the category column to check out what’s been shared on Sunday’s past. You can also find more of my writings on Medium at this link, including in the publications Ellemeno and Rome.

Sunday Morning Reading

Politics, the arts, a little snow, and the end of an era

It’s a Sunday and Fall is homing in on Winter as the first snow of the season hits Chicago this morning. Perfect time for a little Sunday Morning Reading featuring some interesting stories about the arts, AI, and home.

As the first flakes of this winter of discontent fall, two interesting reads highlight some of the chaos the art-less U.S administration is inflicting on the American arts scene, specifically The Kennedy Center. Shawn McCreesh takes a look at the damage being done in The Kennedy Center Crackup.

Meanwhile, Charlotte Higgins reports that the Washington National Opera May Move Out Of The Kennedy Center Due to Trump ‘Takeover.’ I’m here to tell you that while what’s happening on the banks of the Potomac may feel very inside the beltway, the repercussions are being felt in the boardrooms of arts organizations across the country.

The above, like most of our news of late, is certainly not something to laugh at. That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t find ways to laugh at the incompetent, ignorant and dangerous players wreaking havoc in their wake. Laughter gets under their all too thin skins, no matter how made up or stretched too tight by surgery. Mike Monteiro offers up How To Point At Fascists And Laugh.

NatashaMH, far too young to worry about being old, takes a look at creating art as she nears the mid-century mark in I Don’t Paint For Your Sofa. Youngsters these days.

Art and politics might be an unholy mix in dangerous times like these, but there’s another foul concoction brewing. Adam Willems points to An ex-Intel CEO’s Mission To Build A Christian AI: ‘Hasten The Coming of Christ’s Return.’ If you ask me these folks wishing for these kind of end times have really missed the points. All of them.

Continuing on the AI front there seems to be a bit of weakening in the walls of what most concede is an economic bubble. The cliché is that bubbles pop. Those that don’t, just disappear as they float away. Ben Thompson takes a look at what happens in either case in The Benefits of Bubbles.

Home is where hearts are and often places you can’t return back to. I’ve lived both. Chris Andrei is Searching For The Elusive Feeling Of Home.

With the weather changing and snowflakes falling out my window, there’s a passage of time marker about to be set. The Farmers’ Almanac is about to shut down. Growing up in rural America there were only two publications that everyone I knew received in the mail. It was always a big deal in our house when my dad, who was the postmaster, brought those home. The Sears Catalog and The Farmer’s Almanac. The Sears Catalog is long gone. The 2026 edition of the latter will be its last. Grace Snelling takes a look back and ahead in After More Than 200 Years, The Farmers’ Almanac Is Shutting Down For Good.

Returning to where this week’s column began, the arts, Jack Rodolico’s The Blue Book Burglar examines how New York’s once vaunted Social Register, was not only a destination that social climbers desired to be included in, but was also a hit list for the country’s hardest working art thief. I just don’t understand how the current thieves doing today’s pillaging have it so damn easy.

Chicago’s Fall Canopies of Color

I love the change of seasons. I especially love the change of seasons where I grew up in Virginia and also where I’ve lived for most of my professional live in Chicago. The simple reason is I’m always impressed with Mother Nature’s show when the leaves return in the Spring and when they change color in the Fall.

We’re at the peak Fall color season here in Chicago and driving through many of the streets in my neighborhood you do so under canopies of color.

Here are a few shots I’ve captured recently.

The Little Prince Meets Artificial Intelligence

A melange of technology and fantasy

Every year, sometimes twice a year, I return to one of my favorite theatre gigs, directing a staged reading for The International Voices Project. IVP is a Chicago company that produces staged readings of plays translated from other countries and cultures. Throughout the years the plays I’ve directed have taken me on journeys with writers from Syria, Lebanon, Ireland, Germany, Norway, Ukraine, El Salvador, and now Romania.

The reason I return each year is one of the reasons I have pursued and enjoyed my life making theatre. I get to touch and explore worlds, cultures, and ideas I would never have had the chance to experience otherwise. It’s always an adventure into something new.

My most recent gig with IVP certainly scratched all of those itches. The play is called Veronica’s Little Prince by Romanian playwright Dr. Catalina Florina Florescu. Yes, Antonie de Saint-Exupéry’s character of The Little Prince plays an important role.

The piece centers on Veronica, a former principal ballerina who has literally had her legs taken out from under her in a mysterious accident, leaving her in an institution, unable to move without the aid of a wheelchair and unable to speak. Unhappy with her fate Veronica is suspected of wanting to kill herself. Even before the mysterious accident she’s lived a life of self-destructive behavior.

The Little Prince arrives to help her examine and uncover the truth within her actions.

There’s another twist. I mentioned that Veronica can’t speak. In a technological twist she communicates via an AI robot by typing on her body. Via an implant those signals transmit to the robot who speaks her words and thoughts.

The play weaves in and out of Veronica’s mind and thoughts, her past and present, reality and fantasy, technology and humanity in very theatrical ways.

Creating an even more mysterious melange of tech and fantasy, the most frightening line to me is when Veronica’s Little Prince answers Veronica’s question about who told her to come by saying:

You see, they have programmed me to pop up whenever I hear certain words.

That may delight AI enthusiasts and those who keep suggesting we’re living in some sort of simulation, but given the rush to push us all deeper into a world run by Artificial Intelligence, it more than tweaks a nerve for those, like me, who may see benefits to AI in some forms, but think the pitfalls are more dangerous. Frankly, I prefer the characters in fantasy to spring from the minds of humans, not lines of code.

Given the sound and visual representations that give the script its many layers it was quite a challenge to present in a staged reading format without the benefit of theatre technology. But we managed to pull it off, letting the words weave their magic.

My thanks and kudos to the cast for doing such great work and especially to young Olive Popio who played our Little Prince.

(Photo by Scott Dray for The International Voices Project)

You can also find more of my writings on a variety of topics on Medium at this link, including in the publications Ellemeno and Rome. I can also be found on social media under my name as above.

Late Arriving Fall Color in Chicago

Color me curious

Two things everyone in our circles are talking about. ICE raids and a late arriving Fall. As far as the usual colors we get every Fall, this year most of our leaves haven’t turned yet. We’re about to turn the calendar from October to November and most of the foliage is still quite green.

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Many of the early turning golden leaves are gone and filling the gutters, and there’s the occasional burst of red among the green. But all feels late. It will be interesting to see how this season progresses.

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Review: A House of Dynamite

Shear terror in the face of madness

When you live in Chicago, a city under siege by ICE, I’m not sure, but I guess it a strong bent of masochism to watch a movie where your city gets nuked by an unknown enemy. That’s sorta how I felt when my wife and I cued up the excellent Kathryn Bigelow film, A House of Dynamite over the weekend. We debated back and forth, and decided to give it a go. I’m glad we did.

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It’s certainly not an easy movie to watch, regardless of where you live. Yes, a city gets nuked. But that’s not the strength or the point of this movie. Nor should it be a spoiler at this point. The strength lies in watching otherwise steely individuals wither when their shields of confidence dissolve into vulnerable realizations as a horrible what-if scenario becomes all too real to contemplate, yet alone live through, even though they’ve contemplated them over and over again in training.

We don’t get the disaster movie special effects explosions and carnage. They aren’t necessary for this film to work. What we do get is far more terrifying. We get holes ripped through the souls of the characters we’re allowed to meet as they do their jobs. We get belief in systems and protocols developed by smart people shattered, leaving us all wondering if any of it was worth it in the end. It’s a parable of the moment.

It’s certainly not a Halloween movie, but I can’t think of a scarier film to watch as it strips away every possible security blanket and myth we might have become just too comfortable imagining, and realize just how much we’re in the hands of human beings just like us when horrible things unfold.

That’s more than frighteningly true with an utterly incompetent administration running the U.S at the moment. Noah Oppenheim’s script subtly, deceptively, and brilliantly lays that out as it carries us deeper into unfolding and inevitable danger that may be too horrible to watch, but is certainly more terrifying not to.

Bigelow and Oppenheim’s characters all seem more than capable of the sensitive jobs they hold. The filmmakers dispense with the tropes typical of these kind of disaster flicks that feature the usual array of martinets, incompetent and insufferable fools, and even heroes, sung or unsung. Sure, we see some of the personal traumas and trivia some may be dealing with as they come to work on the morning in question. But we initially watch each of these men and women of strong character knuckle down to perform when the unthinkable moment presents itself.

We then watch as they ultimately come face to face with that horrible moment of realization that there is nothing they can do to stop the inevitable. We watch as the enormous personal toll alters their breathing as they have no choice but to carry on with psychic wounds bigger than any smoldering crater before the missile even hits. Bigelow’s camera work and the cast’s strong acting gives us searing glimpses into those moments of horror and devastation as she catches her characters when each crushing realization occurs.

In three parts and an epilogue, the movie repeats the same horrible 18 minutes or so from missile detection to impact, presenting the scenarios in different government locales and viewpoints. We see a missile interception station in Alaska communicating with the White House Situation Room, the STRATCOM headquarters in Nebraska, FEMA headquarters as they have to pull out the plans for the inevitable, and the president who is attending a basketball camp event and then whisked away, while his aides work to inform him from the White House.

Those parts overlap using much of the same dialogue presented from these different points of view via video or audio conferences as the government tries to formulate its response. The repetition of dialogue serves as a better tension builder and reminder of the time before impact than any of the countdown clocks we might see on the screen. As does the sudden departures of those who need to be taken to secure locations as events unfold.

Bigelow’s cast includes some big name actors in a cast headed by Idris Elba and Rebecca Ferguson, that also includes Anthony Ramos, Gabriel Basso, Jared Harris, Jason Clarke, Greta Lee, and Tracy Letts among a host of others. Some of that host provides some of the most telling reactions on the periphery of the action as they watch their bosses try to handle the situation.

To my mind, nothing procedural happens that we haven’t seen or read about in countless Cold War thrillers of the past. With one exception. I was left with the same sort of existential dread after viewing A House of Dynamite as I was when I first read Tom Clancy’s Sum of All Fears and realized the weapon was going to explode. The only difference is that there was a hero in the Clancy novel to pick up the pieces and help us move beyond the horror.

In A House of Dynamite there are no heroes. Only humans. Trying to do their best. Not failing. But having to face the reality that sometimes your best is simply not enough in the face of madness.

Sunday Morning Reading

Reading for the morning after the No Kings rallies and beyond.

Good Sunday morning. This edition will be slightly different than most. Yes, there will be a collection of links I find worth sharing (and hope you’ll read). That said, most of the links in this week’s Sunday Morning Reading come from an excellent series in The Atlantic’s November 2025 issue from a collection of authors called The Unfinished Revolution.

Yes, that’s behind a paywall. Sorry, not sorry. But this is the Internet and if you’re not already paying for excellent content like The Atlantic, there are a million ways to skirt that restriction. The issue is one worth paying for, if for no other reason to keep it as an archive for future generations. That may prove important one day. I plan on picking up a hard copy soon enough.

The issue is also timely as this country approaches it’s 250th anniversary, and finds itself being torn apart by forces that, suffice it to say, don’t represent what many believe this country stands for, or at least the promise of what it should stand for, even with it’s historical problems and faults.

It’s also timely because we’ve just seen the second and larger No Kings rallies across the country. Given that the founding of this country was indeed the original No Kings protest that kicked off a revolution against rule by a monarch, the timing also feels apropos.

I won’t highlight all of the articles in the series, you should go and check them out yourself. The ones I do link to are ones I found particularly interesting. And yes, there will be other links in today’s Sunday Morning Reading as well.

Before I get to The Atlantic’s links, this article by Garrett Graff, Three Reasons I Still Have Hope For America, is more than worth your time. I agree that there is strength in numbers, but I don’t think the inevitable passing of a leader this time around will have the affect the world has seen historically.

The title of Anne Applebaum’s Atlantic piece, The Beacon of Democracy Goes Dark, certainly tells you where the piece is going. Even so, it is more than worth reading and contemplating. One way or the other we are living through and participating in moments that will change the world. We just don’t know how.

We’re dealing with our own Mad King wannabe, so Rick Atkinson’s The Myth of Mad King George draws some interesting parallels beyond their affinity for makeup that I suggest could be similarly drawn behind most of the troubled men who’ve plagued the world throughout its history.

Political and social schisms divide not only countries, but often families as well. Stacy Schiff asks Why Did Benjamin Franklin’s Son Remain Loyal To The British?

Jeffrey Rosen says that insurrection has marred the American constitutional order since its founding. He’s correct. Check out The Insurrection Problem. If you’re not an American history buff, I bet you’ll be surprised.

George Packer thinks we do need patriotism in his piece I Don’t Want To Stop Believing In America’s Decency. I concur with his sympathies, but when the meaning of words like patriotism and decency can get so easily mangled it becomes trying to cling to those beliefs.

Fintan O’Toole asks What The Founders Would Say Now. We’ve imagined, conjured, twisted, and appropriated who and what they and their words are so often, that in my view I think they’d tell us all to either grow up or go to hell.

As most of this week’s Sunday Morning Reading and my own thinking has focused on the issues facing America as a whole, I found former NY Times drama critic Frank Rich’s piece on Zohran Mamdani and the New York mayor’s race fascinating. Not just for his at times surprising commentary on that race. But for those paying attention, Why Powerbrokers Got Everything Wrong About Zohran Mamdani incisively dissects the deeper fissures subsuming the bigger political picture as well.

And to close out this week, here’s a piece from 404 Media about the amphibian symbol that has become associated with our current protests against the administration, Matthew Gault’s The Surreal Practicality Of Protesting As An Inflatable Frog.

The Neighborhoods Are Filling Up With Graveyards

The neighborhoods around us might be taking precautions due to ICE activity, yet many areas are still pulling out all the stops for Halloween. It’s a paradox as folks try to retain some sense of normality amidst real horrors happening around the city.

Sunday Morning Reading

Everything you can imagine is different, yet it’s the same.

It’s a Sunday. It’s a Sunday in Chicago. The Cubs lost. (Not surprising.) The Trump regime continues its horrendous snatch and grab policies all over the city (Increasingly not surprising but still terrifying.) Leaves are falling, but somehow they feel dirtier and without the bursts of color we’re used to seeing beforehand. And the world marches on. Time for a little Sunday Morning Reading.

Neil Steinberg wrote a terrific piece about Chicago amidst all that’s going on called What A Lovely Day in Chicago. It’s a love letter. It’s an homage. It’s a snapshot. As he puts it “We need to remember that this is oppression for oppression’s sake, a practice built on lies. The city is fine.” That’s the odd thing. The city is fine. It’s the oppression that’s not.

Timothy Burke’s The News: Reign of Error expands on a piece by Henry Farrell that says that institutions and communities need to coordinate their resistance to Trump. As Burke puts it one of the obstacles is that “the closer that institutions get to one another in character and mission, and the less necessary it is to be competitive, the more that they are overwhelmed by the narcissism of small differences.” It’s an excellent dissection that reveals why some in higher places of different sectors might be holding their tongues while their mouths are agape at what’s going on around us.

Empywheel thinks The Nativists Are Getting Restless: How The Comey Prosecution May Backfire. I’m not sure it matters in the end if the point is do damage as loudly as possible.

David Todd McCarty asks the question Is Your Imagination Robbing You of Real Experiences? Cogito, ergo sum?

I wrote a play years ago about John Brown and Harpers Ferry, one of those moments in American history that we seem to want to forget, yet never goes away. Robert S. Levine tells us Why Donald Trump Wants To Erase John Brown’s Fiery Abolitionist Legacy (and Why He Will Fail.)

There was so much craziness about the Nobel Peace Prize this year given, well you know why. So much so that many of the other awards were overlooked. The Nobel Prize for Literature went to Hungarian author Lázló Krasznahorkai. I have several acquaintances who adore his work and were tremendously excited. I did some reading on Krasznahorkai and stumbled up on this 2011 piece by James Wood called Madness and Civilization about the author. Worth your while.

On the Artificial Intelligence beat, Sora is the latest thing everyone has an immediate love/hate relationship with. But this isn’t about that. Sarah Perez says It’s Not Too Late For Apple To Get AI Right. Frankly, I think it’s too late for any of these companies to get it right, unless “right” is about winning the con game.

Resting my case on that last statement, Alexandra Jones looks into the connections folks can’t make in real life and are turning to AI for in ‘I Realized I’d Been ChatGPT-ed Into Bed’: How ‘Chatfishing Made Finding Love On Dating Apps Even Weirder.”

And as Autumn continues its march, New Englanders Are Fed Up With Leaf-Peeping Tourists Ruining Their Fall, so says Jared Mitovitch.

(Image is a photo I took last Fall)