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This land is their land : reports from a divided nation
1st ed.
Publication Information:
New York : Metropolitan Books, 2008.
Physical Description:
xii, 235 p. ; 22 cm.
Chasms of inequality. This land is their land -- "Miami Vice": the class analysis -- Home Depot's CEO-size tip -- Going to extremes: CEOs vs. slaves -- Banish the bloated overclass -- The heating bill from hell -- Got grease? -- Class struggle 101 -- Minimum wage rises, sky does not fall -- Could you afford to be poor? -- Desperately seeking stimulus -- Smashing capitalism -- Meanness on the rise. Pension or penitentiary? -- Where the finger's pointing -- The cheapskate warfare state -- Are illegal immigrants the problem? -- The shame game -- The new Cosby kids -- What America owes its "illegals" -- Strangling the middle class. Freshpersons, welcome to debt! -- Party on -- Fastest-growing jobs of '06: are you handy with bedpans and brooms? -- Your local news: Dateline Delhi -- That sinking feeling -- Recession: who cares? -- What's so great about gated communities? --

Hell day at work. Circuit City slaughter -- JetBlue's corporate meltdown -- Blood in the chutney -- Workplace bullies -- Big (box) brother -- Invasion of the cheerleaders -- Fake your way to the top! -- Challenging the workplace dictatorship -- Gap kids: new frontiers in child abuse -- Wal-Mart licks its wounds -- French workers refuse to be "Kleenex" -- Declining health. We have seen the enemy, and surrendered -- Gouging the poor -- The high cost of doing without universal health care -- Health care vs. the profit principle -- Children deserve veterinary care too -- Our broken mental health system -- What causes cancer: probably not you -- A society that throws the sick away -- Getting sex straight. Fear of restrooms -- Let them eat wedding cake -- Opportunities in abstinence training -- Owning up to abortion -- How banning gay marriage will destroy the family -- Do women need a Viagra? -- A uterus is not a substitute for a conscience -- Who's wrecking the family? -- Bonfire of the princesses -- False gods. The secret of mass delusion -- Who moved my ability to reason? -- All together now -- The faith factor -- Follies of faith -- Is it safe to go back to church? -- God owes us an apology -- Flee America.
Ehrenreich's second work of satirical commentary reflects on one of the cruelest decades in memory--the 2000's--in which she finds a nation scarred by deepening inequality, corroded by distrust, and shamed by its official cruelty.


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Book 306.0973 EHR 1 1

On Order



America in the 'aughts--hilariously skewered, brilliantly dissected, and darkly diagnosed by the bestselling social critic hailed as "the soul mate"* of Jonathan Swift

Barbara Ehrenreich's first book of satirical commentary, The Worst Years of Our Lives , about the Reagan era, was received with bestselling acclaim. The one problem was the title: couldn't some prophetic fact-checker have seen that the worst years of our lives--far worse--were still to come? Here they are, the 2000s, and in This Land Is Their Land , Ehrenreich subjects them to the most biting and incisive satire of her career.

Taking the measure of what we are left with after the cruelest decade in memory, Ehrenreich finds lurid extremes all around. While members of the moneyed elite can buy congressmen, many in the working class can barely buy lunch. While a wealthy minority obsessively consumes cosmetic surgery, the poor often go without health care for their children. And while the corporate C-suites are now nests of criminality, the less fortunate are fed a diet of morality, marriage, and abstinence. Ehrenreich's antidotes are as sardonic as they are spot-on: pet insurance for your kids; Salvation Army fashions for those who can no longer afford Wal-Mart; and boundless rage against those who have given us a nation scarred by deepening inequality, corroded by distrust, and shamed by its official cruelty.

Full of wit and generosity, these reports from a divided nation show once again that Ehrenreich is, as Molly Ivins said, "good for the soul."

-- * The Times (London)

Author Notes

Barbara Ehrenreich is the author of "Blood Rites"; "The Worst Years of Our Lives"; "Fear of Falling", which was nominated for a National Book Critics Circle Award, & eight other books. A frequent contributor to Time, Harper's, Esquire, The New Republic, Mirabella, The Nation, The New York Magazine, she lives near Key West, Florida.

(Publisher Fact Sheets) Political activist and writer Barbara Ehrenreich was born in Butte, Montana on August 26, 1941. She studied physics at Reed College and graduated in 1963. She received a Ph.D. in Cell Biology from Rockefeller University in 1968. Rather than pursuing a career in science, however, she decided to focus on social change.

Ehrenreich has written columns and contributed articles to publications including Time Magazine, The Progressive, The New York Times, Mother Jones, The Atlantic Monthly, Ms, The New Republic, Harper's Magazine, and The Nation. She taught essay writing at the Graduate School of Journalism at the University of California, Berkeley in 1998 and 2000.

Ehrenreich has written many books, with 2001's Nickel and Dimed: On (Not) Getting by in America and 2005's Bait and Switch, The (Futile) Pursuit of the American Dream both becoming New York Times bestsellers. Nickel and Dimed examines working-class poverty, while Bait and Switch discusses white-collar unemployment. Her next bestseller was in 2014 with Living With a Wild God: A Nonbeliever's Search for the Truth about Everything.

In 1998 Ehrenreich was named Humanist of the Year by the American Humanist Association, and she received the Nation Institute/Puffin Foundation Prize for Creative Citizenship in 2004.

(Bowker Author Biography)

Reviews 5

Publisher's Weekly Review

Ehrenreich's vicious, hilarious and striking tour de force of American culture and society today addresses a range of issues from class warfare to health care, higher education to feminism to religious institutionalization and political power. She weighs in with wit, clarity and authority that few authors can match. Loosely knitted together, this collection of essays paints a disappointing picture of the world today. Cassandra Campbell works well with Ehrenreich's prose. She's keen at picking up Ehrenreich's wit and smoothly delivers punch lines. Campbell's inflections are also particularly strong, especially when Ehrenreich is driving home a point or taking a shot at someone or something. Campbell's light and crisp tone is a perfect match for Ehrenreich's demeanor and textual tone. A Metropolitan hardcover (Reviews, Mar. 24). (July) (c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved

Booklist Review

Despite long national claims to being a classless society, the U.S. has a growing gulch between the haves and have-nots and what used to be the middle class. Ehrenreich, author of Nickel and Dimed (2001) and Bait and Switch (2005), catalogs the many ways that the rich are getting richer and the rest of us are getting poorer. The new top of the polarized social order has pay in the tens of hundreds of millions, a private jet and a few acres of Nantucket, and the new bottom is virtual slavery captive domestics, sweatshop workers, and sex slaves exploited by their employers. She details the huge compensation gaps between CEOs and other management, top-ranked professors and adjunct professors, law firm partners and temp lawyers. In separate sections, Ehrenreich analyzes how wealthy individuals and corporations maintain the gap by engineering social, political, and economic policies that continue to disadvantage the middle class and poor, and our accommodation to it. Ehrenreich's sharp analysis and engaging writing make the litany of misery enlightening, if not more bearable, reading.--Bush, Vanessa Copyright 2008 Booklist

New York Review of Books Review

CAPTURING the spirit of an era is American journalism's holy grail, as elusive as it is pursued. What makes the great decade-capturing books great isn't so much the originality of their themes - Michael Lewis wasn't the only guy to write about rapacious '80s bond traders - but the delicious precision of their details. Take the beginning of Tom Wolfe's "Radical Chic," in which Wolfe savors the "little Roquefort cheese morsels rolled in crushed nuts" Leonard Bernstein served to real Black Panthers at a fundraiser in his apartment. It's a moment so keenly observed, so wicked, so right, that it reveals more about the late-'60s style of self-congratulatory slumming than any sweeping pronouncement could have. This kind of texture is what's missing from Barbara Ehrenreich's new book "This Land Is Their Land," a collection of short opinion pieces for The New York Times, The Nation and elsewhere repackaged as a bid to define the Bush years - "America in the aughts," as the jacket copy puts it. We experienced Sept. 11, Ehrenreich explains, as a patriotism binge, a "spasm of unity," but then came the hangover from which we still have not recovered. We woke up to find that somebody had stolen our civil liberties, our international reputation had been ruined, our mortgages had gone bad, our sinking dollar couldn't buy us a cup of coffee in Tijuana, the poor had gotten poorer and the rich richer and, perhaps, our country didn't even feel like ours anymore. In the aughts, Ehrenreich concludes, political and economic villains slyly snatched away the American dream, leaving us only a "bleak landscape cluttered with boarded-up homes and littered with broken dreams." This land is their land now. But the first thing you notice about Ehrenreich's book is that the villains who did the snatching are only vaguely present. When the people oppressing the poor are mentioned, they're the vague, crudely drawn fat cats of populist morality tales: "plutocrats"; the "bloated overclass"; people who "for all we know ... sip their single malts in mahogany-walled dens" and tool around in private jets. And Ehrenreich offers what read now as obsolete explanations for their behavior. In one column, she theorizes that the wealthy are so greedy for money because they don't eat enough fat. "Unbuffered low-fat muffins and delicate slices of melon fueled the crimes of Wall Street," she says, while "grease was for proles." It's a mordantly funny piece, but it must have been written before fat came back into fashion - before Daniel Boulud started serving hamburgers stuffed with foie gras and pork began turning up in everything from chocolate bars to cocktails, none of which did much to curb the appetites of the hedge fund managers and subprime lenders who have gotten us into our latest mess. Reading Ehrenreich's lifestyles-of-the-rapacious essays in 2008 can't help disappointing: it would have been more fun to watch her riff on the Bush era's barbecue-fueled quest for culinary authenticity than oh the food fads of the '80s and '90s. Ehrenreich is at her best (and she's very, very good) when chronicling the outrageous human downside of our economy, the costs it imposes on people who can't afford a bacon-infused old-fashioned. There's the hospital worker whose employer garnished her paycheck for an emergency room visit, "a condition of debt servitude reminiscent of early-20th-century company towns." There's the poor man who got himself arrested in order to live more comfortably in prison, because "we are reaching the point ... where the largest public housing program in America will be our penitentiary system." Remove the less-than-trenchant lifestyle and culture essays, and you've got a tight and chilling companion volume to "Nickel and Dimed," Ehrenreich's account of her own experience working undercover in the low-wage economy. Surely someone of Ehrenreich's political persuasion could have found more time to skewer the things I really associate with the Bush era: Iraq, the lobbying scandals, reality TV, BlackBerrys. Cultural criticism sinks or swims on the keenness of its observations, and too often, when Ehrenreich turns her sights away from the poor, she lapses into vagueness. Her most vividly painted ultravillains of the aughts are fictional ones in the now-forgotten big-screen "Miami Vice." And while the poor suffer, she writes, "you can bet ... that those C.E.O.'s who cooked the books and ransacked their companies' assets did not start the day with two eggs over easy, a rasher of bacon, and a side of hash browns." But why bet when you can write about the real thing? Eve Fairbanks is the associate editor of The New Republic.

Kirkus Review

A collection of fierce polemics on the sorry state of American society from social critic, essayist and journalist Ehrenreich (Dancing in the Streets: A History of Collective Joy, 2007, etc.). The author sees the United States as increasingly polarized into the self-indulgent superrich and the downtrodden poor, with a shrinking middle class in between. As in Nickel and Dimed (2001), she writes vividly about the plight of those struggling to make ends meet with minimum-wage jobs, and her wrath is directed at those she sees as their oppressors: the financial industry, the private health-insurance industry, medical professionals, airlines, oil companies and big-box stores--especially Wal-Mart, though Target is a target too. Ehrenreich harbors a special scorn for the lifestyle of mega-wealthy hedge-fund managers, but others who wear the black hat are President Bush, CEOs and college administrators. She lays herself open to charges of oversimplification on economic issues, but her journalistic instincts generally serve her well. Her witty, quite brief chapters, some only two or three pages long, are organized into themed sections with such charged titles as "Meanness on the Rise" and "Hell Day at Work." While some of the pieces in this collection were originally written for the New York Times, The Progressive and other publications, most previously appeared in slightly different form as blogs on the author's website. Blogs, however, are time-sensitive and intended to be stand-alones. Read in succession as chapters of a book, they seem scattershot, and some pieces are dated--for example, Ehrenreich's comments about President Bush's health savings account idea and her spiteful piece on the high-earning devotees of low-fat diets. Provocative, angry and funny, often at the same time--just don't try to read it all in one sitting. Copyright ©Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.

Library Journal Review

Ehrenreich (Bait and Switch; Nickel and Dimed) laments, "I flinch when I hear Woody Guthrie's line `This land belongs to you and me.' Somehow I don't think it was meant to be sung by a chorus of hedge fund operators." In this collection of essays and commentaries on the U.S. economic and social divide-turned-chasm, she looks at a wide range of topics including extravagant corporate CEO bailouts, pharmaceutical companies' recruitment of college cheerleaders as sales reps, and xenophobic children living in gated communities. Readers of her previous books will not be surprised that Wal-Mart and the private health insurance industry are frequent targets of her acerbic wit. In Swiftian style, Ehrenreich suggests that families unable to obtain health-care coverage for their children should buy pet health insurance for them, and she blithely maintains that employers have cut wages and benefits to such levels that it is safe to assume employees will soon be asked to pay their boss for the privilege of working. In a droll postscript, she invites readers to visit a web site where they can be matched up with a new country appropriate to their tastes and values since nationality is one of the "few things that can be changed without surgery." Recommended for public libraries.--Jill Ortner, SUNY at Buffalo Libs. (c) Copyright 2010. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.



Introduction For a year or so at the beginning of the millennium, Americans were swept up in a spasm of unity. We hadn't had an enemy scary enough to pull us together since the USSR deconstructed in 1991, and now here was one capable of bringing down the World Trade Center with box cutters, a group that had declared they wanted every one of us dead, from the janitors in our buildings to the CEOs. Transfixed by the jihadists, we wrapped ourselves in flags--flag sweaters, T-shirts, decals, lapel pins, even underwear and bathing suits. "United We Stand," proclaimed the bumper stickers, and "These Colors Don't Run." To be sure, this unity was as thin as a starlet after a sojourn at a spa. How were we to express it, for example, other than through our sartorial decisions? We pondered the ubiquitous instruction to "report all and activities" and that even more enigmatic command from the New York mass transit system: "See something, say something." The president advised us to carry on shopping, which we did to the best of our abilities, remaining in a state of dazed puzzlement while the TSA stripped off our shoes and our belts and the government ripped away habeas corpus and all the elementary ingredients of privacy. But whatever resonated with us about the idea of a "homeland" and "one nation, indivisible" was being quietly undercut by a force more powerful than terrorism, more divisive than treason. In a process that had begun in the 1980s and suddenly accelerated in the early 2000s, the ground was shifting under our feet, recarving the American landscape. The peaks of great wealth grew higher, rising up beyond the clouds, while the valleys of poverty sank lower into perpetual shadow. The once broad plateau of the middle class eroded away into a narrow ledge, with the white-knuckled occupants holding on for dear life. It wasn't just a "shift," of course, governed by impersonal geological forces. The rude hand of human intervention could be felt in 2001, when the government gave the airlines a $20 billion post-9/11 bail-out, with nothing for the ninety thousand freshly laid-off airline employees. In another deft upward redistribution of wealth, the administration cut taxes for the wealthiest Americans while cutting back on services and programs, such as financial aid, for everyone else. We had never had a gang in Washington as noisily committed to "Christian values," and yet they had managed to stand core biblical teachings on their head. The results were glaringly visible by 2004, when the Democratic vice presidential candidate announced there were now "two Americas." This was almost certainly an undercount. We had divided into two markets--upscale and downscale, Sears and Saks--two decades earlier, and now these were further subdividing. The middle class, battered by wave after wave of outsourcings and layoffs, scrambled to meet the ever-rising costs of health care, fuel, and college education. The traditional working class, already savaged by deindustrialization, took the low-paying service jobs that were left, trading their hard hats for mops and trays. They crowded grown children and grandchildren into their homes, which they refinanced at usurious rates. They faced speedups at work and cutbacks in pay. When their monthly health insurance premiums exceeded the mortgage or rent, they abandoned the insurance and fell back on Advil. As for the rich, mere millionaires and the old-money sorts who favor weather-beaten summer homes in Nantucket barely qualified anymore. The upper class split into the merely affluent, who shop at Williams-Sonoma, and the überrich, who had others do their shopping for them, as well as their child raising, bill paying, servant supervising, and party throwing. At the pinnacles of the wealth scale, extravagance reigned on a scale not seen since the late Roman Empire. Freshly fattened CEOs, hedge fund operators, and financiers hired interior decorators for their private jets, slugged back $10,000 martinis at the Algonquin Hotel in Manhattan, and, in one case, staged a $2 million birthday party in Sardinia featuring an ice statue of David urinating vodka. There was a connection, as most people suspected, between the massive buildup of wealth among the few and the anxiety and desperation of the many. The money that fueled the explosion of gluttony at the top had to come from somewhere or, more specifically, from someone. Since no domestic oil deposits had been discovered, no new seams of uranium or gold, and since the war in Iraq enriched only the military contractors and suppliers, it had to have come from other Americans. In fact, the greatest capitalist innovations of this past decade have been in the realm of squeezing money out of those who have little to spare: taking away workers' pensions and benefits to swell profits, offering easy credit on dubious terms, raising insurance premiums and refusing to insure those who might ever make a claim, downsizing workforces to boost share prices, even falsifying time records to avoid paying overtime. Prosperity, in America, had not always been a zero-sum game. Early twentieth-century capitalists--who were certainly no saints--envisioned a prosperous people generating profits for the upper class by buying houses and cars and washing machines. But somewhere along the line, the ethos changed from we're all in this together to get what you can while the getting is good. Let the environment decay, the infrastructure crumble, the public hospitals close, the schools get by on bake sales, the workers drop from exhaustion--who cares? Raise the premiums, reduce the wages, add new mystery fees to each bill, and let the devil take the hindmost. Only when the poor suckers at the bottom stopped buying and defaulted on their mortgages did anyone notice them. And where were the rest of us during this orgy of accumulation at the top? What were we thinking as the "invisible hand" of the market reached into our pockets for our wallets? The truth is that most of us were too focused on the tasks at hand to pay much attention to what was going on with the neighbors. We were paying the bills, holding on to the job, occasionally making contact with the children. And when we did take a moment to tune into the public discourse, we heard very little that addressed our frustration and pain. The war with Iraq, for starters, which had to be one of the greatest non sequiturs in military history. Attacked by a gang composed largely of Islamic militants from Saudi Arabia, the United States countered by invading an unrelated country, and one of the most secular in the Middle East at that. Briefly fascinated by the toppling of statues and flattening of towns, we rallied to "support our troops," although no one could figure out what we were supporting them to do. If the war had been launched as a distraction from the corporate scandals of 2002, as one theory goes, it soon became something we needed distraction from. Five years later, and after the hideous revelations of Abu Ghraib, we've spent $505 billion, lost four thousand American lives, and achieved the status of a pariah among nations. Issues more appropriate to a middle school biology or sex ed class also loomed large. Stem cells, for example: whole political careers were based on the defense of these wee entities and their slightly larger cousins the embryos. Insentient forms of life, such as a woman in a vegetative state, excited loud indignation, while the intact and living received barely a nod. In 2005, top Republicans rushed to the bedside of Terri Schiavo, bypassing the thousands of other ailing Floridians hit by Medicaid cuts. Gay marriage was another unlikely issue seemingly designed to distract us from the ongoing economic looting. How one person's marriage could threaten another's is a mystery to me, but whole elections were tipped in favor of the party of wealth, for no other purpose than to spare the public from the spectacle of same-sex embraces at the altar. As for the unmarried of any sexual orientation, abstinence was strongly recommended, along with prayer and cold showers. Illegal immigrants are our latest distraction, vilified as if they had come to run drugs and collect welfare rather than mow lawns, clean offices, pack meat, and process poultry. There is no welfare anymore, of course, and that may be what makes the immigrants such an appealing target. Twenty years ago, right-wing demagogues had welfare recipients to kick around as a stand-in for the hated poor; today, immigrant workers have been pressed into playing the scapegoat role. The strategy is the same: to peel off some segment of the poorer classes, label them as enemies, and try to whip up rage that might have been directed at the economic over class. There may be reasonable arguments for limiting immigration, but it wasn't a Mexican who took away your pension or sold you on a dodgy mortgage. Maybe, too, our critical faculties were dimmed by the habit, endemic in the early 2000s, of magical thinking. The biggest self-help best seller of the last year tells you how you can have anything you want, simply by willing it, and the fiction side of the bookstore is ruled by a young magician in training. Girls are forsaking feminism for a princess fantasy that culminates in weddings lavish enough to bankrupt a couple before they can even take out a car loan. Karl Rove derided the press for its membership in the "reality-based community," and the fastest-growing brand of religion is of the magical "name it and claim it" variety, in which the deity exists only to meet one's immediate, self-identified needs. It would be shortsighted to whine about rising debts and falling incomes when, with a little spiritual effort, the miraculous could happen to you. How many "wake-up calls" do we need, people--how many broken levees, drowned cities, depleted food pantries, people dead for lack of ordinary health care? We approach the end of the first decade of the twenty-first century in a bleak landscape cluttered with boarded-up homes and littered with broken dreams. The presidential candidates talk about "change," but don't bother to articulate what kind of change. Why don't we dare say it? The looting of America has gone on too long, and the average American is too maxed out, overworked, and overspent to have anything left to take. We'll need a new deal, a new distribution of power and wealth, if we want to restore the beautiful idea that was "America." We could let the nation continue to fall apart, of course-- dividing ever more clearly into the gated communities on the one hand and trailer parks and tenements on the other-- until we eventually become one of those areas of the world prefixed by the mournful word former. But I like to think we could find in our hearts some true ground for unity, some awareness of a common condition and collective aspiration. Maybe we could find it in an effort to restore America's lost glory--the beauty of our land before all the fences and sprawl, the respect we once enjoyed from people around the world. Or maybe we need to find it in the common threats we face, not only from the human enemies that our foreign policy has been breeding so prolifically but from the global challenge of climate change and shrinking supplies of water and oil. And maybe, someday, we would even regain the confidence to extend that sense of unity and connectedness to all of our fellow human beings, wherever they may reside on the planet. Excepted from This Land Is Their Land by Barbara Enrenreich Copyright @ 2008 by Barbara Enrenreich Published in 2008 by Henry Holt and Company, LLC All rights reserved. This work is protected under copyright laws and reproduction is strictly prohibited. Permission to reproduce the material in any manner or medium must be secured from the Publisher. Excerpted from This Land Is Their Land: Reports from a Divided Nation by Barbara Ehrenreich All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.

Table of Contents

Introductionp. 1
Chasms of Inequality
This Land Is Their Landp. 11
Miami Vice: The Class Analysisp. 14
Home Depot's CEO-Size Tipp. 17
Going to Extremes: CEOs vs. Slavesp. 20
Banish the Bloated Overclassp. 23
The Heating Bill from Hellp. 26
Got Grease?p. 29
Class Struggle 101p. 34
Minimum Wage Rises, Sky Does Not Fallp. 38
Could You Afford to Be Poor?p. 41
Desperately Seeking Stimulusp. 45
Smashing Capitalismp. 48
Meanness on the Rise
Pension or Penitentiary?p. 55
Where the Finger's Pointingp. 57
The Cheapskate Warfare Statep. 60
Are Illegal Immigrants the Problem?p. 64
The Shame Gamep. 67
The New Cosby Kidsp. 70
What America Owes Its "Illegals"p. 73
Strangling the Middle Class
Freshpersons, Welcome to Debt!p. 79
Party Onp. 82
Fastest-Growing Jobs of '06: Are You Handy with Bedpans and Brooms?p. 85
Your Local News-Dateline Delhip. 88
That Sinking Feelingp. 91
Recession-Who Cares?p. 94
What's So Great about Gated Communities?p. 98
Hell Day at Work
Circuit City Slaughterp. 105
JetBlue's Corporate Meltdownp. 108
Blood in the Chutneyp. 111
Workplace Bulliesp. 114
Big (Box) Brotherp. 119
Invasion of the Cheerleadersp. 123
Fake Your Way to the Top!p. 126
Challenging the Workplace Dictatorshipp. 129
Gap Kids: New Frontiers in Child Abusep. 132
Wal-Mart Licks Its Woundsp. 135
French Workers Refuse to Be "Kleenex"p. 139
Declining Health
We Have Seen the Enemy-and Surrenderedp. 145
Gouging the Poorp. 148
The High Cost of Doing without Universal Health Carep. 152
Health Care vs. the Profit Principlep. 155
Children Deserve Veterinary Care Toop. 158
Our Broken Mental Health Systemp. 161
What Causes Cancer: Probably Not Youp. 164
A Society That Throws the Sick Awayp. 167
Getting Sex Straight
Fear of Restroomsp. 173
Let Them Eat Wedding Cakep. 176
Opportunities in Abstinence Trainingp. 179
Owning Up to Abortionp. 183
How Banning Gay Marriage Will Destroy the Familyp. 186
Do Women Need a Viagra?p. 189
A Uterus Is Not a Substitute for a Consciencep. 192
Who's Wrecking the Family?p. 197
Bonfire of the Princessesp. 200
False Gods
The Secret of Mass Delusionp. 205
Who Moved My Ability to Reason?p. 208
All Together Nowp. 213
The Faith Factorp. 216
Follies of Faithp. 220
Is It Safe to Go Back to Church?p. 225
God Owes Us an Apologyp. 228
Postscript: Flee Americap. 232
Acknowledgmentsp. 237
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