Saturday morning roundup

War is really hell, World War II was hell, and Max Hastings has a new, apparently must-read book about it.

Jerusalem is even more complicated than we think.

Peter Marks has a lot to answer for (example: convincing me to spend not a little money on a ticket to "Oklahoma!"--although Hilton Als is complicit in that, as well). I'm disappointed in his review of The Golden Dragon, which--I saw it on a subscription--is a drag of a play, even though, as Marks says, something comes together at the end. The ambiguity of his review is a disservice to audiences, because I doubt most people would get anything out of that show. Studio is an amazing place, and I'd hate to see new patrons turned off because that was the first play they saw there. But I'm telling you this because Mr. Marks redeems himself with a few sentences:

But the most disappointing aspect of denying spectator status to others in the field may be that it sends an unfortunate message of exclusivity to the constituency that cares about this issue most of all: the emerging generation of playwrights and theater-company managers who desperately need to feel the encouragement of those in higher places. The 1 percent in that room are required with opportunities such as this one to fling open the doors to the other 99.

and

True lovers of the performing arts know that, as much as it’s consoling to feel the powerful resonances of old works, the true measure of a nation’s artistic vitality is what the art-makers are creating right now.

Word.

Gail Collins puts the next debate in humorous perspective.

I get slow living but is there such a thing as too slow?