As I’m sitting in my old apartment in Zagreb, Croatia, before flying to America, I’m trying to remember what the idea of America had meant for me, a young adolescent growing up in the Socialist Federative Republic of Yugoslavia, a country that had been subsequently thrown into “the trash can of history”, to quote Karl …
Exactly 28 years ago, in 1992, I, a former film star from a country that no longer existed, was standing at the corner of Amsterdam and Broadway Avenues in Manhattan, in my waitress’ uniform. It was a warm June evening and there were no patrons coming in. My fellow waitress from Lebanon and I were …
This is what I will remember from Phoenix: sitting on the stage for the Babylon 5 panel, watching the screen with a seemingly endless list of names of our fallen comrades. Names and dates in brackets, coldly and impersonally indicating the year of birth and the year of death, framing finished lives within neat and …
