ezloan
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Beyond reproach
REAL HEROES ARE AFRAID BUT KEEP GOING.
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Perhaps one of the most significant books in my life
a surprisingly gripping story
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Enhanced with superbly presented photography
Supercroc is Super!
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Clear understanding of hypnosis and behavior
Wonderful!! A must-read book!"We form our basis of reality on what we perceive as real, yet perception is based on experiences and beliefs that we have been taught are true and real" begins this excellent work. It follows that our personalities are a reflection of this programming. Sloan states, "Once you understand how programs are created, you can learn how they can be reprogrammed with immediate results".
Hypnosis is the key that unlocks the door to behavior modification and in this presentation, the myths about its efficacy and value are quelled. Stanley Sloan writes, "Hypnosis is a non-critical state of suggestibility with increased awareness, between awake and asleep, which occurs during the process of storing, retrieving, and processing information".
Unlike most other books about behavior modification and hypnosis, Whose Reality Mine or Yours? clearly explains the brain's functions. Then, and only then, can we understand both the myths and the truths of what is this ancient practice. Authors Sloan and Jones answer our questions i.e. How does hypnotherapy work? What is a post-hypnotic suggestion? Can I have major personality changes overnight?
This reviewer found Whose Reality Mine or Yours? to be thoughtful, provocative, profound and healing as well as a wonderful learning experience. A nice surprise come with the book, the General Behavior Change CD recorded in both author's voices. It provides scripts and exercises of an abstract therapeutic session.


Scholarly, informative, and highly recommended
Not really a review
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Tod Sloan (1874-1933) launched his career in California, became a favorite with fans, and emerged as the sport's dominant rider on the East Coast. Dandified clothes and a reputation as a ladies' man were part of his appeal, but Sloan's main claim to fame was technical: he popularized the forward seat, in which a jockey crouched on the neck of the horse, an innovation that revolutionized racing and within a few years obliterated the old upright style. It was derisively called the "monkey seat" in England, where Sloan triumphed in 1899 but made enemies with his Yankee brashness and flamboyance. The English were also apprehensive about American gamblers corrupting their races. Sloan, like many riders in the more freewheeling tracks back home, was inappropriately intimate with gamblers and may well have thrown races. In any case, he certainly wagered on them. In late 1900, England's all-powerful Jockey Club informed Sloan "he need not apply for a license to ride" in 1901. His days as a jockey were over. Dizikes uses Sloan's short but meteoric career to explore horse racing's evolution from aristocratic pastime to popular entertainment, casting Sloan as the forerunner of such 20th-century sports celebrities as Babe Ruth and Michael Jordan. --Wendy Smith

A Real Winner, A True ThoroughbredBy following Tod Sloan's career we are given a vivid tour of the U.S. and England in the latter 19th century, from the life of the lowliest stableboy, to glimpses of the English royalty. We also witness the last gasp of British "imperialism" in its Jockey Club barring Sloan from ever applying for his license again. His infraction, suspected gambling, had never been cause for such a stringent punishment before. But, as Dizikes points out, there had never been anyone quite like Sloan before either. A brash American sportsman, spendthrift, ladies man, vaudevillian (briefly), he was the first sports superstar.
A short, masterful evocation of a uniquely American life, Yankee Doodle Dandy is a great ride!
Revolutionizing RidingSloan's success was not just due to his gimmick. He was a skilled jockey. He was known for quick starts and blazing finishes. His judgement of pace was unequalled. Horses that had not performed well would succeed under his control. They knew his voice; a trainer said, "When Sloan enters the paddock, horses that he has ridden recognize his voice and turn to look at him."
But Sloan made such a spectacle of himself that he was resented by some members of the British racing establishment, even though he had occasionally been tapped by the Prince of Wales to ride royal mounts. A minor betting incident, not a big deal at the time, led to his being exiled from the sport he had revolutionized. Sadly, his drinking and gambling ruined his two marriages and any business prospects, and he would up as a ticket taker at a race track in Tijuana.
Dizikes's readable book is a beguiling history of racing as it used to be, illuminating a good deal about the history of racing, and the attempts to regulate it, and make it fair. It also is a little parable about what can happen to revolutionaries.

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The Big, Big Ranch
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A Must Read For Anyone In The Abortion DebateOne of the greatest strengths of this book is that the doctor tells his story from pre-Roe to post Roe. He was there.
The very graphic descriptions of what women used to try to self abort are eye-openers for even the most staunch pro-choicer.
Another great strength of this book is what he saves towards the end: The fact that he was almost aborted through an illegal abortion. Why is this a great strength? Because he is pro-choice. Not only is he pro-choice, he's a doctor that performs abortions. One of the great crys of the anti-abortion rights front is "Aren't you glad your mother didn't abort you?". Yet, here, in this book, the doctor throws that back in their face with: I was almost aborted and who cares? It's not like I would have known. It's not stopping me from providing this service.
I feel this is a must read for anyone in the abortion debate.

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Great book for beginning readers!
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The case of the unhealthy health farm...The title story, "Bare Essentials", has Sloan, Crosby, and the rest of the murder enquiry team at Berebury's local health farm. Mrs. Culshaw, who gained great riches and a lot of weight in commercials for Barclay's biscuits as a little girl, was trapped in the Hot Room and roasted alive - 'kebabbed', in Dr. Dabbe's words. Her husband, a Jack Sprat with a failed firm married to this rich woman, had motive - but also a cast-iron alibi, being out on the golf course with the pro when she died. How could he have done it? And if he didn't, who did and how?
Kovner was a Jewish Holocaust and Israeli wartime hero, larger-than-life, and one of Israel's most important poets. But these works, in a voice intensely human despite the enormous events that shaped it, describe the loss of his voice to cancer.
Sloan Kettering nevertheless avoids self-pity or sturm und drang. Kovner regards his sons' photos and asks, "in their presence/ may one cry?" He speaks in understated irony. His grandchildren came for Hanukkah. "I didn't/ sing 'Ma'oz Tsur with them, you know why." He looses senses, without complaint, but will tell of it another time "if there is one." Of course, there won't be any more conversations. "Just as this one is no more/than the invention of a throat in ruins."
Kovner's past is his "burden of molten/ rocks." He wants this to "stay in the archives/ it is not for the operating table."
One poem instructing his heirs includes the first two words of the mourners' Kaddish -- Yitgadal veyitkadash (magnified and sanctified). Kovner next notes the greater suffering of others--and remembers God, reciting the prayer's third and fourth words--shemei rabba (is the Name).
He relives his fight for the survival of the Europe's Jews. He shudders here, like he did then, "challenged to stand up for his right/ to live." Expecting another time when the world would again oppose the Jewish people, Kovner presciently warns, "The worst of all comes back." He asks, "Will we ever/ get out of this terrible forest?"
In Sloan Kettering's silence echoes the great silence 65 years ago, when Jews had no idea where to turn and a Jewish prisoner was "cut off from his supervisor," lost and running from room to room....
One encounters again "a pathless wilderness/ between yellow arrows/ and blue signs." Reflecting his furtive life in Nazi-occupied Vilna, he calls the New York cancer center "a trans-life corridor."
The fingers of a black nurse mirror "the velvet pad where Mother/ kept her needles." Impossible circumstances forced Kovner to abandon her to save others. His mind and heart, however, never left her. His nights end by telling her of his fears, and about her grandchildren. "She should have a little joy/in Ponar."
He recalls Itzik Wittenburg, betrayed to the Nazis on July 16, 1943, who hoped that going along would save others. In his cell, he swallowed prussic acid. "The gate is still open." ... "a nation holding its breath."
Kovner 's metaphors also reflect the life that cancer patients struggle to keep, against hope and time. In a sense, they capture it too. Kovner describes a Thai man. His face looks like "Lost parchment/ in the heart of the desert."
Kovner understandably has no more "trust in the mercy of heaven," recalling "the day he lost patience waiting/ for the echo of his cry...to come back from empty space." Yet like all his work, these poems invoke Jewish prayers, themes and biblical proportions, some (though not all) detailed in the endnotes.
Readers may recognize Psalm 114 in Kovner's "mountains of Palmyra," where advanced radio-telescopes cause their planners to rejoice "like young goats."
They scan the universe's secrets, whose "ends flee and escape/...beyond space." This is Kovner's Jordan that fled backward. The cancer in his throat is like "An abyss fine as a pinhead/ in ambush," whose mysterious patience resembles "the galaxies of emptiness/beyond the black holes...."
These poems come as close as any to capturing absolute truth--that strangely elusive engine, invisible to most people most of the time, which poets spend their lives seeking to record. Kovner offers muted, simple humility. He writes so delicately of massacre and genocide--terms now bloodied by false invocation and overuse--that even readers unaware of his history, will find these poems pristine, awesome and beyond reproach.
--Alyssa A. Lappen