In lands not ours, at morning comes your night / With whistling shells and clamorous sirens’ blare. / We listen through our days and strain in prayer . . .
In lands not ours, at morning comes your night / With whistling shells and clamorous sirens’ blare. / We listen through our days and strain in prayer . . .
I’m not ready to give up on Timothy Hutton and the gang just yet, but the big business, rich- heartless-business-guy-is-the-evil-one theme that drives the show may be getting a bit tired. After all, once you’ve demonized the “rich and powerful” for four years, it’s got to be hard to keep recycling the same story (how come this never seems to include government—I’ll tell you why: there are no right-wing capitalist loving writers or producers on the show!).
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