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Arizona Hispanics Poised To Swing State Blue

46 minutes ago
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Edit note: This report contains accounts of rape, violence and other disturbing events.

Sex trafficking wasn't a major concern in the early 1980s, when Beth Jacobs was a teenager. If you were a prostitute, the thinking went, it was your choice.

Jacobs thought that too, right up until she came to on the lot of a dark truck stop one night. She says she had asked a friendly-seeming man for a ride home that afternoon.

Jacobs says he gave her something in an old McDonald's cup — a drug — and as she was waking up the man announced that he was a pimp. Her pimp.

The Boston Citgo sign, all 3,600 square LED feet of which has served as the backdrop to Red Sox games since 1965, is now officially a "pending landmark."

Spanish Surrealist Salvador Dalí spent much of the 1940s in the U.S., avoiding World War II and its aftermath. He was a well-known fixture on the art scene in Monterey, Calif. — and that's where the largest collection of Dalí's work on the West Coast is now open to the public.

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Roger Ebert: Elegance and Empathy

Apr 6, 2013
Originally published on April 7, 2013 11:08 am

Roger Ebert was a critic, not a blowtorch. He could be sharp if he thought a movie insulted the audience, but had a champ's disdain for a cheap shot.

Many critics ridiculed the film Deep Throat when it came out in 1973. Who couldn't mock its absurdities? Roger just wrote, "If you have to work this hard at sexual freedom, maybe it isn't worth the effort."

Roger Ebert was a Chicago newspaperman who typed with two fingers — it sounded like a machine gun, columnist Bob Greene remembered on Friday — who was from the age when reporters were fueled by ink and booze.

But Roger gave up drinking when he saw it ruin too many people he loved and spent 30 years helping others give it up, too. And he elegantly adapted to the age of blogs and tweets, so when he died this week at the age of 70, his website was so overloaded it shut down.

Maybe that's today's version of a standing ovation.

Roger Ebert wrote simply, abundantly, gorgeously, and on deadline for 46 years at the Chicago Sun-Times. "Jargon," he said, "is the last refuge of the scoundrel," and over the years his work reminded us that empathy is the grace note of a good life, not just great art.

A few years ago, I finally got the nerve to tell Roger that one of the first things I did on turning 21 was go to a North Side bar where I'd heard that he held court with other lions of Chicago letters.

"I heard that on a great night Studs, Royko and Algen would come in together," I told Roger, who smiled and said, "Yes. But those nights were rarely great."

Roger began a struggle with cancer a decade ago and eventually lost his lower jaw. Monica Eng of the Chicago Tribune, who had known Roger since she was 6, says he told her, "I can't talk, but I have a voice as long as I can write." In his blog, columns, tweets and a superb memoir called Life Itself, he detonated ideas each day. He used movies, as great filmmakers do, to move into our imaginations.

Roger Ebert became fascinated by Richard Dawkins' theory that people give off mental units — memes — that can move between us and spread like fire:

"After a lifetime of writing, teaching, broadcasting and telling too many jokes, I will leave behind more memes than many. They will all also eventually die, but so it goes."

"We must try to contribute joy to the world," said Roger Ebert. "That is true no matter what our problems, our health, our circumstances. We must try. I didn't always know this and am happy I lived long enough to find it out."

Copyright 2013 NPR. To see more, visit http://www.npr.org/.

Transcript

SCOTT SIMON, HOST:

Roger Ebert was a critic, not a blowtorch. He could be sharp if he thought a movie insulted the audience, but had a champ's disdain for a cheap shot. Many critics ridiculed the film "Deep Throat" when it came out in 1973. Who couldn't mock its absurdities? Roger just wrote: If you have to work this hard at sexual freedom, maybe it isn't worth the effort.

Roger Ebert was a Chicago newspaperman who typed with two fingers - it sounded like a Chicago tommy-gun, the columnist Bob Greene remembered yesterday - who was from the age when reporters were fueled by ink and booze. But Roger gave up drinking when he saw it ruin too many people he loved and spent 30 years helping others give it up, too. And he elegantly adapted to the age of blogs and tweets, so when he died this week at the age of 70, his website was so overloaded it shut down. Maybe that's today's version of a standing ovation.

Roger Ebert wrote simply, abundantly, gorgeously and on deadline for 46 years at the Chicago Sun-Times. Jargon, he said, is the last refuge of the scoundrel. And over the years his work reminded us that empathy is the grace note of a good life, not just great art.

A few years ago, I finally got the nerve to tell Roger that one of the first things I did on turning 21 was go to a North Side bar where I'd heard that he held court with other lions of Chicago letters. I heard that on a great night Studs, Royko, and Algen would come in together, I told Roger, who smiled and said, yes. But those nights were rarely great.

Roger began a struggle with cancer a decade ago and eventually lost his lower jaw. Monica Eng of the Chicago Tribune, who knew Roger since she was six, says he told her I can't talk, but I have a voice as long as I can write, and in his blog, columns, tweets and a superb memoir called "Life Itself," he detonated ideas each day. He used movies, as great filmmakers do, to move into our imaginations.

Roger Ebert became fascinated by Richard Dawkins' theory that people give off mental units - memes - that can move between us and spread like fire. After a lifetime of writing, teaching, broadcasting and telling too many jokes, I will leave behind more memes than many, he wrote. They will all also eventually die, but so it goes. We must try to contribute joy to the world, said Roger Ebert. That is true no matter what our problems, our health, our circumstances. We must try. I didn't always know this and am happy I lived long enough to find it out.

(SOUNDBITE OF MUSIC)

SIMON: Music from "La Dolce Vita" - one of Roger's favorites. You're listening to NPR News. Transcript provided by NPR, Copyright NPR.