American Hero

Once upon a time there was a mean, dying GOP chairman who had a brilliant scheme to assure that his man would retain the office of president of the United States of America. And the only man who could pull off this elaborate plan was a celebrated Hollywood director. Add to the mix a left-coast gumshoe named Broz who is trapped among cover-ups, undercover work, and his own morality, a cast of bicoastal desperate characters, and the stage is set for a powerful D.C./L.A. production. From Edgar award winning author Larry Beinhart, Wag the Dog was the most brilliant political satire of the last decade. It was made into a classic film by Barry Levinson, and, fortunately, is now back in print.

Impassioned in its anger, lethal in its aim, American Hero paints a scathing portrait of the strange place this country had become in the Reagan-Bush years--and shows how only Hollywood could have taken full advantage of the demise of the Old World Order.

Grant was the most famous person in America, considered by most citizens to be equal in stature to George Washington and Abraham Lincoln. Yet today his monuments are rarely visited, his military reputation is overshadowed by that of Robert E. Lee, and his presidency is permanently mired at the bottom of historical rankings. In an insightful blend of biography and cultural history, Joan Waugh traces Grant's shifting national and international reputation, illuminating the role of memory in our understanding of American history. She captures a sense of what led nineteenth-century Americans to overlook Grant's obvious faults and hold him up as a critically important symbol of national reconciliation and unity. Waugh further shows that Grant's reputation and place in public memory closely parallel the rise and fall of the northern version of the Civil War story--in which the United States was the clear, morally superior victor and Grant was the symbol of that victory. After the failure of Reconstruction, the dominant Union myths about the war gave way to a southern version that emphasized a more sentimental remembrance of the honor and courage of both sides and ennobled the ''lost Cause.'' By the 1920s, Grant's reputation had plummeted. Most Americans today are unaware of how revered Grant was in his lifetime. Joan Waugh uncovers the reasons behind the rise and fall of his renown, underscoring as well the fluctuating memory of the Civil War itself.

Arthur Forbes, Publisher and Managing Editor of the New York Herald Express and Staff Reporter Jason Scott were requested to be at the White House in Washington, D. C. the following morning to meet with the President of the United States for an important meeting. The year was 1944. Franklin D. Roosevelt explained to them that the United States would have to invade the Japanese homeland to end the war with Japan which would result in American casualties of at least one million men. Or he could sanction using a weapon that was more horrifying than any weapon ever created by man. He was referring to the atomic bomb which had recently been perfected and was ready to be made operational. Optimism ran high that the bomb would be a huge success and that it would end the war almost immediately. Roosevelt explained that it had been decided that the humane thing to do was to warn the Japanese what fate was in store for them. Forbes and Scott wondered how they could be of help to the president. The President of the United States was put in a position where he had to trust someone whom the Japanese respected and who could bring a highly secretive message to them. Scott was the logical choice. It was to be the beginning of a career that would catapult Scott into international fame and fortune.

When all-time pitching great Christy Mathewson died of tuberculosis in 1925 at the age of 45, it touched off a wave of national mourning that remains without precedent for an American athlete. The World Series was underway, and the game the day after Mathewson's death took on the trappings of a state funeral: officials slowly lowered the flag to half-mast, each ballplayer wore a black armband, and fans joined together in a chorus of "Nearer My God to Thee." Newspaper editorials recalled Mathewson's glorious career with the New York Giants, but also emphasized his unstinting good sportsmanship and voluntary service in World War I. The pitcher known to one and all as "Matty" or "Big Six" was as beloved for the strength of character he brought to the national pastime, as for his stunning 373 career victories. "I do not expect to see his like again," said his best friend and former manager, John McGraw. "But I do know that the example he set and the imprint he left on the sport that he loved and honored will remain long after I am gone." In Matty, Ray Robinson tells the story of a man who became America's first authentic sports hero. Until Mathewson, Robinson reveals, Americans loved baseball, but looked down on ballplayers and other athletes as hard-drinking, skirt-chasing ne'er-do-wells. Deprived of real-life role models, millions of readers followed the serialized exploits of Frank Merriwell, a fictional hero who excelled at sports from baseball to billiards and never drank, smoke, or swore. Robinson shows how an eager public greeted Mathewson as a flesh-and-blood version of Merriwell from his first year at Bucknell University, where he shone as star pitcher, premier field-goal kicker, and class president. Lured into the big leagues before he could graduate, the tall, handsome pitcher soon won over men, women and children with his sense of fair play and his arsenal of blazing fastballs, sweeping curves, and infamously deceptive fadeaway pitches. Robinson skillfully details the highlights of Mathewson's career, including his showdowns against the great batters of his day and his encounters with the young Brooklyn, Chicago, Pittsburgh and St. Louis teams. Here are the six remarkable days in October, 1905 when Mathewson became the only pitcher ever to hurl three straight shutouts in a World Series, and the afternoon at West Point when he won $50 in a bet that he could throw 20 of his best pitches to exactly the same spot. Robinson does not underplay Mathewson's occasional failings, but the most surprising aspect of this fascinating portrait is just how close America's first Hall of Fame pitcher came to living up to his image. Drawing on rare interviews, press clips, and long overlooked eyewitness accounts, Matty brings baseball's golden age to life--not only the great teams and the early superstars, but the long train trips between games, with cramped berths and no air conditioning; the small town ballplayers let loose amidst big city vice; and the two-bit gambling that eventually led to the infamous Black Sox Scandal of the 1919 Series (a scandal that might have escaped detection if the sportswriters in the press box with Mathewson had not been able to rely on his experienced eye for clues to how ballplayers might throw games). Offering rare insight into the making of an early twentieth century American hero, Matty is must reading for anyone who loves baseball.

On February 20, 1962, John Glenn became a national star. That morning at Cape Canaveral, a small-town boy from Ohio took his place atop a rocket and soared into orbit to score a victory in the heavily contested Cold War. The television images were blurry black-and-white phantoms. The cameras shook as the rocket moved, but by the end of the day, one thing was clear: a new hero rode that rocket and became the center of the world's attention for the four hours and fifty-five minutes of his flight. From that day forward, Glenn restively wore the hero label. Refusing to let that dramatic day define his life, he went on to become a four-term US senator--and returned to space at the age of seventy-seven. He was a creation of the media, in some ways, but he was also a product of the Cold War. At a time when increasingly cynical Americans need heroes, his aura burns brightly in American memory.

The Black Conservative: An American Hero By Richard Jules Valvano Can a powerful piece of fiction undo the negative stereotyping cast on a group of individuals and make them noble and heroic? In this riveting and explosive novel, the author is betting it will. For years, the black left has cast politically conservative African-Americans as insensitive traitors to the Civil Rights Movement. They are seen as unhinged thinkers who dare to question liberal conventional wisdom concerning black matters and issues. They are often depicted as “Uncle Toms” and whites in dark skin who actually want blacks to be passive porters, shoe-shiners and doormats in a white society. The Black Conservative: An American Hero not only challenges these stereotypes, it does it by way of an engaging thriller filled with fascinating characters. The entire effect is meant to give black conservatives a human element, an insight into their thinking, and a culmination of a renewed and invigorating image of them.

Celebrate the return of G.I. JOE: A REAL AMERICAN HERO with the definitive edition of its historic first issue! This issue restores Larry HamaÕs original, unedited dialogue, which has never before seen print!