This text provides practical guidelines on how to make sense of and interpret the evidence that is available, with information on how to avoid straying beyond evidence into conjecture, supposition, and wishful thinking. It covers size, trial design, harm as well as benefit, and health economics and management evidence.
Ontario-born jazz pianist Lou Hooper (1894–1977) began his professional career in Detroit, accompanying blues singers such as Ma Rainey at the legendary Koppin Theatre. In 1921 he moved to Harlem, performing alongside Paul Robeson and recording extensively in and around Tin Pan Alley, before moving to Montreal in the 1930s. Prolific and influential, Hooper was an early teacher of Oscar Peterson and deeply involved in the jazz community in Montreal. When the Second World War broke out he joined the Canadian Armed Forces and entertained the troops in Europe. Near the end of his life Hooper came to prominence for his exceptional career and place in the history of jazz, inspiring an autobiography that was never published. Statesman of the Piano makes this document widely available for the first time and includes photographs, concert programs, lyrics, and other documents to reconstruct his life and times. Historians, archivists, musicians, and cultural critics provide annotations and commentary, examining some of the themes that emerge from Hooper’s writing and music. Statesman of the Piano sparks new conversations about Hooper’s legacy while shedding light on the cross-border travels and wartime experiences of Black musicians, the politics of archiving and curating, and the connections between race and music in the twentieth century.
The King's German Legion was the largest and most respected of the foreign corps which fought as integrated elements of the British Army during the Napoleonic Wars. The light and heavy cavalry, light and line infantry, and horse and foot artillery of the KGL made major contributions to Wellington's victories during the Peninsular War, and several units covered themselves with glory at Waterloo. This book offers a comprehensive overview of the KGL from its origins to its disbandment, including its uniforms, weapons, flags and standards. Meticulous illustrations offer unprecedented details of this impressive fighting force.
True Grunt is not about a Vietnam battle or a Vietnam journal/ memoir. It is a response to seeing short "Vietnam War 50 years later videos" on TV. These videos show two sides of the infantry in Vietnam. One side depicts the infantry fighting heroically and the other depicts the infantry committing some kind of atrocity. I served on the front lines with the infantry/grunt in 1970-1971. With many grandchildren, I don't want this mixed message to be my legacy. In those years, the infantry especially became the most maligned soldiers in our country's history. We were known as the baby killers and monsters of Vietnam. Those names continue to haunt us today. By seeing and experiencing my life as infantry-"grunt"-at that time, I hope the reader of True Grunt sees the infantry as moral men of intelligence and courage. They fought in some of the worst conditions of war. It is also a story of hope as one Vietnam Veteran regains his life, overcomes personal tragedies, and even disease from Agent Orange. It's time to project "50 years later videos" with just one message. Thousands of Vietnam grunts like myself were true to ourselves, our morals and our country. We won a great Victory in Vietnam. No asterisk needed.
Captain Alexander Outland of the Sixty-Nine (short for Space Vessel 369, of course) is the best pilot in the galaxy. He’s also a pirate, a smuggler, and loved and loathed by women in umpteen solar systems. His crew of strays and misfits includes an engineer of dubious sanity, a deposed planetary governor, an annoyingly unflappable Sexbot copilot, and a slinky weapons chief who stubbornly refuses to give the captain a tumble. Outland just wants to make a decent living skirting the law, but when an invisible space armada starts cutting into his business, he soon finds himself in hot water with the military, the mob, mad bombers, and an extended family of would-be conquerors. And that’s not counting an occasionally telepathic spy . . . . Like any sensible scoundrel, he hates heroics. They’re risky and they don’t pay well. But to keep his ship and crew in one piece, and make time with a certain hard-to-get weapons chief, he might just have to make an exception–and save the galaxy in spite of himself!
