New Releases by John Wood

The Forgotten Truth Since the ancient period till the present day, humans have been warned that one day they would be judged for what they have done, for what they do, and for what they shall do in the future. Yet they forget it, pretend not to remember it, or even not believe in it, but the truth is that Judgment Day will surely happen as there is difference between good and evil and the one who is the Almighty Creator of this world will separate them once and for all. Growing up, reading, writing, and learning about different religions, the author has decided to write a fictional story about a young couple whose faith, love, and belief for one another and the true living God have been challenged yet having hope, alongside of other people who stand united as true holy warriors fighting against the darkness who has now overcome and ruled the world and who has his massive evil army ready. They prepare for the final battle. The author is praying and wishing that this story touches your hearts and make you wonder and consider your deeds. God bless us all. Amen.

Exploring themes critical to understanding the current world order, this book lays bare the reality of the new Russia that emerged under Vladimir Putin. Russia holds the world''s largest natural gas reserves, the second largest coal and uranium reserves, and the eighth largest oil reserves. Europe is dependent on Russia for 25 percent of its oil and gas. Russia is also positioning itself to play a similar role with respect to China. The key to this strategy is a network of new oil and natural gas pipelines that Russia is in the process of constructing, which will by-pass the problematic Ukraine, Georgia, Poland and the Baltic States in the West, and lock-in the enormous potential of China in the East. Further, as the Western economies including the USA begin themselves to recover, their growing energy dependence will come back into the forefront, and therefore the need to ensure that Russia does not fail in its opening up of new energy resources in the Arctic and Eastern Siberia. Russia is no longer a superpower, in the Cold War sense of the word, because its military is significantly weaker, and as such is incapable of conducting a regional let alone global war against either the United States or NATO. It is precisely because of its military weakness that Putin has been forced to adopt an asymmetric approach. Thus, the pipeline spigot and the proliferation of missiles and aircraft have become Russia''s weapons of choice, along with an ever growing reliance on its strategic nuclear forces to provide it with the necessary deterrent to foreign aggression. In addition, Putin and Medvedev have no interest in an arms race with the United States, it is too costly and detracts from their priority, which is economic reform. From Putin''s perspective, America is in the process of imposing "absolute security" or as Joint Vision 2020 put it: "full spectrum dominance" over the world. As the sole remaining superpower, the United States enjoys a massive strategic imbalance in its favor, which it has used first to contain, but now with the intent to control the world. How? NATO expansion lays the groundwork for a U.S. global missile defense system to contain perceived adversaries, such as Russia, which in turn secures the dominance of America through its Prompt Global Strike (PGS) capability – the ability to strike anywhere on the planet with impunity within 90 minutes of the order being given by The President. Thus, PGS will be to the 21st Century, what British Gun Boat Diplomacy was to the 19th Century. In such a context, Russia is forced to respond asymmetrically.

In this sweeping analysis of colonialism and its legacies, John Wood Sweet explores how the ongoing interaction of conquered Indians, English settlers, and enslaved Africans in New England produced a closely interwoven, though radically divided, society. The coming together of these diverse peoples profoundly shaped the character of colonial New England, the meanings of the Revolution in the North, and the making of American democracy writ large. Critically engaged with current debates about the dynamics of culture, racial identity, and postcolonial politics, this innovative and intellectually capacious work is grounded in a remarkable array of evidence. What emerges from this analysis of colonial and early national censuses, newspapers, diaries, letters, court records, printed works, and visual images are the dramatic confrontations and subtle negotiations by which Indians, Africans, and Anglo-Americans defined their respective places in early New England. Citizenship, as Sweet reveals, was defined in meeting houses as well as in courthouses, in bedrooms as well as on battlefields, in land disputes as well as on streets. Bodies Politic reveals how the legacy of colonialism shaped the emergence of the nineteenth-century North and continues, even to this day, to shape all our lives.

Selected Poems, 1968-1998, represents thirty years of John Wood''s work, offering his readers a most comprehensive view of an unusual mind and spirit that is at once eloquent and humorous. In poems that range from narratives, lyrics, and elegies, to odes, satires, and even a mini-epic, his work whips language into intense emotion. Recalled memories tumble with sense and grace. The homely and the visionary intertwine as the often stark realities of human experience are infused with love and light. The prospering genius of these poems is that they seek not so much to redeem or reclaim what is lost, but to redirect perspectives with a generous sweep of possibilities. Wood''s craft as a wordsmith gives us a voice that powerfully interprets what it means to be human and alive. John Wood holds professorships in both photographic history and English literature at McNeese State University in Lake Charles, Louisiana, where he is also director of the Master of Fine Arts Program in Creative Writing. He is the author of three previous books of poetry and seven books of art and photographic criticism. His books have won the Iowa Poetry Prize twice, the American Library Association''s Choice Outstanding Academic Books of 1992, and the New York Times Book Review Best Photo Books of 1995.

This text aims to simplify the creation of a collection development policy. It covers all types and sizes of libraries and is a comprehensive, useful, and up-to-date guide available to librarians and library science students.

Arcot, Wade, and Morey fight for the freedom of their planent and for the safety of the entire solar system.

When Buck Peters went to Montana to start a new ranch, he found his partner dead, his cowhands being slaughtered like steers; himself shot full of holes, and a neighbor stealing his stock. All that could only mean one thing - a range war was imminent. Only Hopalong Cassidy could help Buck now - but he was in Texas with a new bride and a ranch to run. Hoppy had no choice. He was Buck''s last hope. He had to come.

Johnny Nelson reached up for the new, blue flannel shirt he had hung above his bunk, and then placed his hands on hips and soliloquized: "Me an'' Red buy a new shirt apiece Saturday night an'' one of ''em ''s gone Sunday mornin''; purty fast work even for this outfit." He strode to the gallery to ask the cook, erstwhile subject of the Most Heavenly One, but the words froze on his lips. Lee Hop''s stoop-shouldered back was encased in a brand new, blue flannel shirt, the price mark chalked over one shoulder blade, and he sing-songed a Chinese classic while debating the advisability of adopting a pair of trousers and thus crossing another of the boundaries between the Orient and the Occident. He had no eyes in the back of his head but was rarely gifted in the "ways that are strange," and he felt danger before the boot left Johnny''s hand. Before the missile landed in the dish pan Lee Hop was digging madly across the open, half way to the ranch house, and temporary safety. Johnny fished out the boot and paused to watch the agile cook. "He ''s got eyes all over hisself—an'' no coyote ever lived as could beat him," was his regretful comment. He knew better than to follow—Hopalong''s wife had a sympathetic heart, and a tongue to be feared. She had not yet forgotten Lee Hop''s auspicious initiation as an ex-officiomember of the outfit, and Johnny''s part therein. And no one had been able to convince her that sympathy was wasted on a "Chink." The shirtless puncher looked around helplessly, and then a grin slipped over his face. Glancing at the boot he dropped it back into the dish water, moved swiftly to Red''s bunk, and in a moment a twin to his own shirt adorned his back. To make matters more certain he deposited on Red''s blankets an old shirt of Lee Hop''s, and then sauntered over to Skinny''s bunk. "Hoppy said he ''d lick me if I hurt th'' Chink any more; but he did n''t say nothin'' to Red. May th'' best man win," he muttered as he lifted Skinny''s blankets and fondled a box of cigars. "One from forty-three leaves forty-two," he figured, and then, dropping to the floor and crawling under the bunk, he added a mark to Skinny''s "secret" tally. Skinny always liked to know just how many of his own cigars he smoked. "Now for a little nip, an'' then th'' open, where this cigar won''t talk so loud," he laughed, heading towards Lanky''s bunk. The most diligent search failed to produce, and a rapid repetition also failed. Lanky''s clothes and boots yielded nothing and Johnny was getting sarcastic when his eyes fell upon an old boot lying under a pile of riding gear in a corner of the room. Keeping his thumb on the original level he drank, and then added enough water to bring the depleted liquor up to his thumb. "Gee—I ''ve saved sixty-five dollars this month, an'' two days are gone already," he chuckled. He received sixty-five dollars, and what luxuries were not nailed down, every month. Mounting his horse he rode away to enjoy the cigar, happy that the winter was nearly over. There was a feeling in the air that told of Spring, no matter what the calendar showed, and Johnny felt unrest stirring in his veins. When Johnny felt thus exuberant things promised to move swiftly about the bunk-house.