On April 6, 1970, Vietnam War photojournalists Sean Flynn (son of Errol Flynn) and Dana Stone set off on two rented motorcycles to cover one last story and were captured by Communist forces, never to be seen or heard from again. Their friend and fellow journalist, Perry Deane Young, tells their story here in a remarkable memoir first published in 1975. This new Press 53 Classics edition features photos by Flynn, Stone, their friends Tim Page, Nik Wheeler, and others, including a new chapter with updates on the lives of those involved and the ongoing search for two of the missing.

Immigration has become one of the most important and contentious issues of our time. But even as policy makers in the United States and Mexico argue over what to do about the half million or more Mexicans who cross the border illegally each year to work in the United States, one fact has become indisputable. Illegal immigration has enhanced the lives of poor people more than any policy attempted by either the U.S. or the Mexican governments. Immigrants sent home $23 billion dollars in 2006 alone, rivaling what Mexico earned from selling oil. But the human cost of migration is equally high. Border crossers risk injury, attack, rape, and death, while undocumented workers often toil under dangerous and exploitative conditions in the United States.

These harsh realities constitute the heart of Exodus/exodo, a powerful collaboration between writer Charles Bowden and photographer Julian Cardona that puts a human face on the issue of illegal immigration. Expanding on their award-winning 2006 Mother Jones article titled "Exodus: Border-Crossers Forge a New America," Bowden and Cardona take us to border towns, in which impoverished men and women hire "coyotes" to get them across the line; to Ciudad Juarez, where hundreds of young women maquiladora workers have been murdered and their families still seek justice; to Minutemen camps along the border, where citizen vigilantes keep watch; to New Orleans, North Carolina, and California, where migrants find back-breaking work in construction, agriculture, and other industries; to protest marches, as immigrants assert their right to stay in the United States; and to villages in Mexico, in which remitted dollars are building homes as lavish as thedreams that fuel the migrations.

In some countries, they call them the "abandonados," the abandoned ones. They're the impoverished mentally ill and mentally disabled patients being warehoused in psychiatric asylums that are more run-down, more uncaring than the most brutal American prisons. Confined in cage-like cells, tied to beds soiled with human waste, medicated to the point of senselessness, or wandering naked in unheated and garage-like wards, they live in what can only be called the shadows, their plight unseen and too easily ignored by the rest of the human family.

Working first as a journalist, later as a volunteer for the human rights organization Mental Disability Rights International, photographer Eugene Richards gained access to psychiatric institutions in Mexico, Argentina, Armenia, Hungary, Paraguay, and Kosovo. His wrenchingly intimate images reveal the often inhumane treatment suffered by the mentally disabled. Offered little that would qualify as effective care, patients are denied even the most basic human amenities: privacy, protection from harm, clean clothing. Accompanying the book, A Procession of Them, is a DVD of a short film of the same name. Directed and narrated by Richards, this unique and expressionistic film speaks of the chaos, claustrophobia, and loneliness of these living hells.

Making us face some hard truths, A Procession of Them drives home the point that when it comes to the plight of the mentally disabled, "no one much cares." As Richards concludes, it's "as if there is a kind of worldwide agreement that once people are classified as mentally ill or mentally retarded, you're free to do to them what you want."

In 2001, the Pentagon had just 200 robotic aircraft. In 2008 it had more than 5,000. The number of military ground robots jumped from 160 in 2004 to around 4,000 in 2006. Only underwater robots lagged: so far just a few dozen systems have entered service. Under the water is, after all, the toughest environment for robots. But even undersea bots will see a boost in coming years. The Pentagon has plans to spend at least $4 billion a year for the foreseeable future designing and building robots.

The spread of robots in our armies, navies and air forces has greatly advanced the science, engineering and techniques for mixing thinking people and thinking machines. And it has forced us to try answering a basic moral question. Just how much responsibility should we surrender to machines? If and when robots fulfill their promise to make war cheaper and easier for our side, will we discover that we wage war too lightly? Are we already guilty of that sin?

This book examines just a handful of the many types of war bots, and just a few of the ways they're being used in the expanding American-led "war on terror." Some of these robots have been in service for years. Some are still just prototypes. Between them they span the entire range of military robotics. Some are killers. Others are helpers. All of them are soldiers with no fear.

Denison, Iowa, is as close to the heart of Middle America as it gets. The hometown of Donna Reed, Denison has adopted "It's a wonderful life" as its slogan and painted the phrase on the water tower that hovers over everything in town. And in many respects, life is pretty good here: it's a quiet town, a great place to raise children; the crime rate is low, the schools strong. It's home to the county's only Wal-Mart and a factory that does a booming business in antiterrorism barriers. For outsiders looking in, there is something familiar and comforting about Denison -- it conforms to the picture of the wholesome, corn-fed heartland which we as a nation cherish and which we think we know so well.
But something new and unfamiliar is happening in Denison, and traditional viewpoints and partisan labels don't quite capture it. The change goes beyond the post-9/11 loss of innocence; the sense of unease and, in some cases, of rebirth began well before 2001. Relations between the growing Latino population and the established Anglo citizenry are not always smooth. The industries that still predominate have become a mixed blessing for many people -- in the 1980s the meat-processing plant, for instance, froze wages, and they have remained basically static to this day.
For many years, Dale Maharidge and Michael Williamson have made it their business to document interior America. In 1990 they won the Pulitzer Prize for their book And Their Children After Them, a conscious homage to the 1941 classic Let Us Now Praise Famous Men by James Agee and Walker Evans. To gather their observations and insights on Denison, Maharidge and Williamson lived there for a year, spending time among the 8,000 people who live, love, work, run for office, go to school, and sometimes struggle to get by there. From the Lutheran woman who singlehandedly teaches English to Latino immigrants seeking grueling work in meatpacking plants to the leaders who struggle to rescue the community from economic ruin to the Latino businessman whose career is saved by two white men risking the wrath of small-town politics, the author and photographer trace the intersections of lives, the successes and failures, the real stories beneath Denison's mom-and-apple-pie surface.
Through Maharidge's gorgeous, plainspoken prose and Williamson's stunning photography, we are privy to a sweeping perspective layered with a microscopic depth of observation, and a searingly honest portrait tempered by heartfelt compassion. Denison, Iowa is a big, beautiful book about a small town at a critical time in our history -- and it's the crowning work of a brilliant, quarter-century partnership.

The varied artistic approaches presented in this book reflect the interpretations and visions Shakespeare's Measure for Measure. Some "illustrate" literal scenes from the text; others more metaphorically interpret the central themes of the text or wrestle with the moral questions raised by the implications of judging-or not judging-the actions of another. Although a few artists engaged the densely rich humor of Measure for Measure, more focused on the darker issues raised by this problematic comedy: the role of an apparently just Duke who nonetheless deceives his subjects; the malevolent Angelo who seems never to recognize his own hypocrisy. Most were attracted by Isabella's central conflict: should she redeem her brother's life by sacrificing her own virginity?

Challenging the conventional wisdom that the 1930s were dominated by literary and photographic realism, ""Sensational Modernism"" uncovers a rich vein of experimental work by politically progressive artists. Examining images by photographers such as Weegee and Aaron Siskind, and fiction by writers such as William Carlos Williams, Richard Wright, Tillie Olsen, and Pietro di Donato, Joseph Entin argues that these artists drew attention to the country's most vulnerable residents by using what he calls an ""aesthetic of astonishment,"" focused on startling, graphic images of pain, injury, and prejudice. Traditional portrayals of the poor depicted stoic, passive figures of sentimental suffering or degraded but potentially threatening figures in need of supervision. Sensational modernists sought to shock middle-class audiences into new ways of seeing the nation's impoverished and outcast populations. The striking images these artists created, often taking the form of contorted or disfigured bodies drawn from the realm of the tabloids, pulp magazines, and cinema, represented a bold, experimental form of social aesthetics. Entin argues that these artists created a willfully unorthodox brand of vernacular modernism in which formal avant-garde innovations were used to delineate the conditions, contradictions, and pressures of life on the nation's fringes.

Katrina Days is photographer George Long's intimate portrait of life in and around New Orleans during the two tumultuous years immediately following Hurricanes Katrina and Rita.
His photographic perspective as a New Orleans insider provides an uncompromising view of pain, loss, and total frustration balanced with humor and hope for America's most authentic and soulful city.

Deindustrialization is not simply an economic process, but a social and cultural one as well. The rusting detritus of our industrial past the wrecked hulks of factories, abandoned machinery too large to remove, and now-useless infrastructures has for decades been a part of the North American landscape. In recent years, however, these modern ruins have become cultural attractions, drawing increasing numbers of adventurers, artists, and those curious about a forgotten heritage.

Through a unique blend of oral history, photographs, and interpretive essays, Corporate Wasteland investigates this fascinating terrain and the phenomenon of its loss and rediscovery. Steven High and David W. Lewis begin by exploring an emerging aesthetic they term the deindustrial sublime, explaining how the ritualized demolition of landmark industrial structures served as dramatic punctuations between changing eras. They then follow the narrative path blazed by urban spelunkers, explorers who infiltrate former industrial sites and then share accounts and images of their exploits in a vibrant online community. And to understand the ways in which geographic and emotional proximity affects how deindustrialization is remembered and represented, High and Lewis focus on Youngstown, Ohio, where residents and former steelworkers still live amid the reminders of more prosperous times.

Corporate Wasteland concludes with photo essays of sites in Michigan, Ontario, West Virginia, and Pennsylvania that pair haunting images with the poignant testimonies of those who remember industrial sites as workplaces rather than monuments. Forcing readers to look beyond nostalgia, High and Lewis reinterpret our deindustrialized landscape as a historical and imaginative challenge to the ways in which we comprehend and respond to the profound disruptions wrought by globalization."

"Seed Hope. Flower Peace." Decades after the end of the Vietnam War, and years since the start of the Iraq War, these words by Jesuit priest, poet, peace activist, and Nobel Peace Prize nominee Daniel Berrigan still resonate. Prayer for the Morning Headlines: On the Sanctity of Life and Death pairs select Berrigan poems with luminous photographs of cemetery statuary by Adrianna Amari. In this beautiful collection, the evocative images combine to form a meditation on the profound impact of the loss of any life, and bear witness to lasting grief, memory, and love. As noted historian Howard Zinn states in his eloquent introduction, ..".it was in Baltimore that Adrianna Amari took her extraordinary photographs of sculptures scattered through the city. It is all there, as in Berrigan's poems- life and death, the prayer that comes with commitment, the hope that comes with resistance, the visions of a world where peace and justice prevail." At times tranquil, at times dramatic, the words and images in Prayer for the Morning Headlines always implore readers to love one another and fight war no more.

This is a moving record of a remarkable era in American and southern history. Most of Charles Moore's civil rights photography originally appeared in the weekly ""Life"" magazine, for which he freelanced from 1962 to 1972. In 1989, Moore, an Alabama native, received the first Kodak Crystal Eagle Award for Impact Photojournalism in recognition of his coverage of the civil rights struggle.

"Etranger" is a book of 53 black/white and color photographs including urban street scenes, rural landscapes, portraits, abandoned railroad tracks, subways and train stations, and old cars. The images were taken during journeys across America, Spain, and Israel. Mike Spitzs photos capture solitude in its many forms. Ranging in style from documentary and photo-journalistic to rural and more abstract images, his photography is heavily influenced by the visual landscape of the places where he has lived, including Ohio, New York, New Orleans, Chicago, and Paris. Spitzs background in film and cinematography enhances his work as a photographer, giving his photos a strong narrative and composition, deep emotion, and a cinematic visual style. The photography of Mike Spitz has been compared to the likes of Henri Cartier Bresson, Walker Evans, and George Tice. "These photographs represent a single voice and vision. The choice of images, composition, character of the objects and subjects show a sensitive, conscious presence that animates the images with their point of view and framing. The objects and people are compellingly alive, even when only parts of bodies are shown. That's what grabs my attention." (Bruce Joel Rubin, screenwriter for movies Ghost, Jacob's Ladder)

A peace book offered by a poet, a photographer and a journalist to unmask and offer alternatives to war.
The dead ask us to wake from our living death and look through the hole in our former reality. The path away from madness starts there. The path that led us here will not lead us away. (Alan Pogue)

When we finally arrived at my brother's house in the United States, I thought about how far I was from home in Mexico. I looked back, saw the sun setting, and thought about my father and what he might be doing. I thought, 'Why did I come so far, and how am I going to return?' Before I left my father asked me why I wanted to leave. He said he thought we would never see each other again. My brother told him not to worry and that he would return me in a year. . . . He was right, because we never did. Irma Luna recalls her experience of migration, from Communities without BordersIn his stunning work of photojournalism and oral history, David Bacon documents the new reality of migrant experience: the creation of transnational communities. Today's indigenous migrants don't simply move from one point to another but create new communities all along the northern road from Guatemala through Mexico into the United States, connected by common culture and history. Drawing on his experience as a photographer and a journalist and also as a former labor organizer, Bacon portrays the lives of the people who migrate between Guatemala and Mexico and the United States. He takes us inside these communities and illuminates the ties that bind them together, the influence of their working conditions on their families and health, and their struggle for better lives. Bacon portrays in photographs and their own words Mixtec and Triqui migrants in Oaxaca, Baja California, and California; Guatemalan migrants in Huehuetenango and Nebraska; miners and indigenous communities in Sonora and Arizona; and veterans of the bracero program of the 1940s and 1950s. Bacon's interviews with this first wave of guest workers are especially relevant in light of the current political focus on guest-worker programs as a model for reforming immigration, an approach with which Bacon strongly disagrees.Throughout Communities without Borders, Bacon emphasizes the social movements migrants organize to improve their own working conditions and the well-being of their enclaves. U.S. border policy treats undocumented immigrants as an aggregation of individuals, ignoring the social pressures that force whole communities to move and the networks of families and hometowns that sustain them on their journeys. Communities without Borders makes an urgent appeal for understanding the human reality that should inform our national debate over immigration."

A coffee-table book; with old photographs of miniature pots by Prof. Y. D. Pitkar, and captions in poetry by Aarti Sharma.

This handsome commemorative volume contains hundreds of Allied and German photographs, many never seen before by the general public. Written by the coauthors of Gordon W. Prange's acclaimed bestsellers, At Dawn We Slept and Miracle at Midway, it is in the tradition of their highly successful series of pictorial war chronicles. With text keyed to photos on the same page, Goldstein, Dillon, and Wenger lead the reader through the dramatic experiences of D-Day combatants on both sides, from the invasion's complex preparations, to the furious combat vividly portrayed in the film Saving Private Ryan, to its ultimate result-the beginning of the end for Hitler's Third Reich.

The sun, the moon, the seasons, our Arapaho way of life,"" writes foreworder Jordan Dresser. ""When you look around, you see circles everywhere. And that includes the lens Sara Wiles uses to capture these intimate moments of our Arapaho journeys."" In The Arapaho Way, Wiles returns to Wyoming's Wind River Indian Reservation, whose people she so gracefully portrayed in words and photographs in Arapaho Journeys (2011). She continues her journey of discovery here, photographing the lives of contemporary Northern Arapaho people and listening to their stories that map the many roads to being Arapaho. In more than 100 pictures, taken over the course of thirty-five years, and Wiles's accompanying essays, the history of individuals and their culture unfold, revealing a continuity, as well as breaks in the circle. Mixing traditional ways with new ideas - Catholicism, ranching, cowboying, school learning, activism, quilting, beadwork, teaching, family life - the people of Wind River open a rich world to Wiles and her readers. These are people like Helen Cedartree, who artfully combines Arapaho ways with the teaching of the mission boarding schools she once attended; like the Underwood family, who live off the land as gardeners and farmers and value family and hard work above everything; and like Ryan Gambler and Fred Armajo, whose love of horses and ranching keep them close to home. And there are others who have ventured into the non-Indian world, people like James Large, who brings home tenets of Indian activism learned in Denver. There are also, inevitably, visions of violence and loss as The Arapaho Way depicts the full life of the Wind River Indian Reservation, from the traditional wisdom of the elder to the most forward-looking youth, from the outer reaches of an ancient culture to the last-minute challenges of an ever-changing world.

A collection of approximately 100 detailed historic photographs from the Francis Frith archive with extended captions and full introduction, this volume should be suitable for tourists, local historians and general readers. It includes a voucher for a free mounted print of any photograph shown in the book.

A collection of photographs which depict the vanished Arabia of the 1970s, a world of artisans, fishermen, soldiers, and tribesmen, of ordinary lives against the backdrop of a majestic land. They hint at the enormous changes that oil money will bring to these traditional societies.