I read a fascinating piece from the Wall Street Journal this week (thank you, Don Wilson)—“ISIS Is Guilty of Anti-Christian Genocide” (2-12-16 A11). Written by Bishop Demetrios of Mokissos, chancellor of the Greek Orthodox Metropolis of Chicago, the essay is a one-year anniversary reflection of the beheading of 21 Coptic Christians by Islamic State terrorists. “These Coptic Christian hostages were executed for no other reason than their faith in Jesus Christ.

5,700 feet underground is enough to stir up anybody’s latent claustrophobia. Although I suppose that if you’re used to being that far down and are doing it for a living (as miners do), it’s pretty much old hat to you. Unless, of course, your way back up to the surface has been blocked, as was the case with South African miners in the Harmony Gold mine west of Johannesburg.

Poor Flint, Michigan. But then, maybe that’s their problem. They are poor. An African American majority. No money. No lobbyists. No political power. So nobody pays attention—until recently, that is.

Feeling a bit bugged out about life this soon into the New Year? No need to feel bad. Turns out you're surrounded by them—bugs, that is!

Thanks to their new study published in the scientific journal Peer J, entomologist Matt Bertone and his colleagues have announced we aren't alone when we're "home alone” any longer. We've always suspected we lived with a few anthropods, but who knew we had this many house guests!

Nothing like a Powerball jackpot frenzy to warm a frigid winter’s night! Americans (and Canadians) are still queuing up by the tens of  thousands for a chance to win a record $1.5 billion-plus at tonight’s 10:59 Powerball drawing. Chances of winning the grand prize? One in 229,000,000. And yet by Monday this week Michiganders were spending $156,000 per hour on lottery tickets!

Have we all become curators? You know who they are—directors at museums who skillfully arrange the contents of the gallery to be as attractive and appealing as possible to visitors. Curators decide what eye-catching exhibit gets prominent display, and which collections with less pizzazz need to be pushed to the back. Do we do the same?

“Return that gift before you get it.” Leave it to Amazon.com to “solve” our gift-receiving woes! The mega online mail-order giant reportedly has come up with a solution to those gifts from “Aunt Mildred” you’ve never known what to do with—from “The Stallion Stable Music Box” that must have been a beauty on the computer screen but turned out to be a White Elephant under the Christmas tree, to “The Thread and Bobbin Sewing Kit” that, truth be known, will never see the light of day.

Some time ago Charles Schultz’s syndicated Peanuts cartoon went apocalyptic. Frame 1: Lucy to Charlie Brown, “I don’t worry about the world coming to an end anymore.” Frame 2: She continues, “The way I figure it, the world can’t come to an end today because it is already tomorrow in some other part of the world.” Frame 3: Lucy turns and asks Charlie Brown, “Isn’t that a comforting theory?” Final frame: Lucy smiling but Charlie Brown muttering, “I’ve never felt so comforted in all my life!”

The two young women, sisters, were out for a late afternoon stroll along the popular walking path in Compton, south LA. “Do you hear that cat?” one of them stopped. Both listened. Sure enough—from somewhere not so far away came a faint whimper. “Gotta be a cat.” They strained to listen. “Sounds more like a baby to me.” Impossible. Nothing there but the asphalt bike path and a chain linked fence. But they heard it again. “It’s gotta be.” They dialed 911.

Nathaniel Philbrick, in Mayflower, his acclaimed history of the Pilgrims, recounts how William Bradford, the intrepid leader of that courageous band of Puritans, years later described “that first morning in America.” Recalling with wonder their landing on the salty, windswept shores of Cape Cod Bay on November 15, 1620, Bradford wrote: “But here I cannot stay and make a pause and stand half amazed at this poor people’s present condition. . . .