Author of a dozen books, Barbara Ward currently heads the prestigious International Institute for Environment and Development in London. One of the great seminal thinkers of our time, Ms. Ward studied economics at Oxford and later became a Carnegie Fellow at Harvard.
What a great day for a ball game. Hot and muggy and the traffic backed up to Manhattan. Everybody’s out selling. The Portuguese hot pretzel vendors squabbling over territorial rights, scalpers hustling tickets and “genuine” autographed baseballs.By ANGELA FERRANTE13 min
The 13-year-old schoolboy had whiled away the afternoon sniffing glue and downing a pint of vodka. When he staggered into a Halifax detoxification centre, he was, recalls a provincial drug worker, “very bombed. Without help, he might easily have died.”By ELEANOR WARD, MARK NICHOLS, BUREAU CORRESPONDENTS7 min
“Patronage!” The one-word interjection, attributed only to “an honorable member,” jumps out of Hansard near the end of a wild exchange over the Sky Shops affair in the House of Commons late last month. During the bickering, which brought back memories of the bitter feuds between John Diefenbaker and Lester Pearson, Prime Minister Pierre Trudeau called the Conservatives “a bunch of hyenas” and Nova Scotia Conservative MP Pat Nowlan called the Liberals “horses asses.”By IAN URQUHART6 min
In the 1950s, it was the Communists. In the 1960s, it was the United States involvement in Vietnam. Now, in the 1970s, Big Government—a catchall term meaning virtually anything paid for by taxes—has become the whipping boy of Western society.By Ian Urquhart5 min
In the bright sun, on the last day of April, the snow on the rolling tundra around the Arctic community of Coppermine gleamed brilliantly. Inuit hunters prepared for the annual trek to their camps for a summer of hunting and fishing, and already there were signs of a bountiful spring: a lush polar bear skin flapped on a clothesline in the icy gusts and a skinned seal glistened in the cluttered yard of a house; there were Arctic char, split and frozen, on porches: pelts tacked to walls: and headless caribou, rigid and upended on platforms.By ROBERT LEWIS5 min
Does St. Januarius know something? Devout Italian Catholics think he may. For six centuries, a sample of the congealed blood of the martyr to Emperor Diocletian’s antichristian campaign has liquefied twice a year. Pilgrims have flocked to the Chapel of St. Januarius in the ancient cathedral of Naples to witness the semiannual miracle.By DAVID WILLEY5 min
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