Although the focus of this program is Sarcosuchus, the fossil "SuperCroc" of what is now the Sahara, it includes a great deal of information on contemporary crocodylians through "Croc-Hunteresque" segments in all sorts of interesting places. Particularly striking are a night croc "hunt" in Costa Rica, and Adam Britton's unique method of inserting and removing sensors into and out of a Saltwater Croc's stomach (by hand - you won't believe it 'til you see it).

Recovering the animal's fossilized skull is covered at some length and in such a way as to convey the tension inherent in recovering such a heavy, cumbersome, delicate, and valuable chunk of rock without destroying it or hurting yourself. Paleontologist wannabes, take notes.

The now-familiar method of bringing extinct animals to life through computer animation is used, but it would have been nice if there had been somewhat more footage of this sort and it could have been more lifelike; say, something more like that in "Walking With Dinosaurs." Also, other giant crocodilians such as Deinosuchus and Purussaurus were never discussed. This is understandable, since it was about Sarcosuchus after all, but I, at least, would have welcomed some comparison.

Quibbles aside, it was well done and my kids and I still think it's a blast, even after watching it a half-dozen or so times. Now, if the traveling display would just come to Omaha. . . .

Having thoroughly enjoyed all three Ringu movies I couldn't help but be curious about the book they were based on, so when The Ring by Koji Suzuki became available I bought a copy and read it straight through the same night. As this implies, it's a good read. The book is different enough from the movies to be interesting (e.g. Asakawa is a man), there are several surprises and some points are explained in more detail than in the films, so it was definitely worthwhile. Can't really tell how closely the translation captures the spirit of the original, but it reads as if it had been composed in English, so the translation is, at least, effective.

Shanghai Baby is an intriguing novel, perhaps more intriguing than first appears. Others have compared it with the work of Jack Kerouac and the author herself makes frequent references to Henry Miller, but what I found most striking were its parallels with Ernest Hemingway's The Sun Also Rises.

Both feature a love affair which cannot be consumated because of the impotence of the man involved, and both seem cluttered with superficialities. One is set among the aimless "Lost Generation" bar-hopping through 1920s Paris, while the other is in modern Shanghai among a generation the author seems to be saying has been similarly disoriented, except by the wave of Western-style materialism sweeping through China instead of disillusionment from "The War To End All Wars."

Although both are written in the first person Wei Hui's book comes across as more autobiographical, which raises the question: how much of its literary quality is due the author's artifice and how much is simply "life imitating art?" This is all the more difficult to determine because Coco, the heroine of the novel, is writing a novel, perhaps this very one. Is the tension between the deeper meaning the protagonist is struggling to create and her own shallowness intentional? After wrestling with this question for some time my guess is that it is.

Stepping back from the work itself for a moment, according to her jacket bio - and as suggested by her dedication - the author has studied literature. Also, naming the heroine "Coco" after a fashion designer speaks volumes about how she means the character to be seen. Returning to the text, Coco's frequent references to prominent authors and her earnest attempts to see deeper truths around her contrast sharply with her own tendency to evaluate people and things superficially, hinting that although the protagonist's dream is to write a literary-quality bestseller she simply isn't equipped to do so. Supporting this is Hui's portrayal of Coco's love for the nihilistic, impotent Tian Tian, which forms the heart of the book. This might seem to be something deep and noble and platonic, except that even it is based largely on the beauty of his face, "who could help loving a flawless face like his?" As in Hemingway's work, the human condition rears its head and ambitions and dreams, ethics and morals, are all compromised.

Seen in this light, Shanghai Baby is worth a look. Just as The Sun Also Rises isn't really just about bar-hopping and bullfighting, this isn't just a slice-of-life in modern, materialistic Shanghai.

Garcia-Aguilera's CAP (Cuban-American Princess) detective Lupe Solano has found a topical issue to stick her nose into; the shady trade in Cuban art. This gray market in art from Cuba is not widely known, but is attracting more attention from the art world and the law enforcement community. It's common knowledge that the Castro government seized the personal property of those who fled the island. The general perception is that this consisted mostly of real estate. Less well known is that it included art, both Cuban and foreign in origin. With the continuing economic crisis the government has taken to selling this art abroad for hard currency. But who does it really belong to, the original owners or the regime that appropriated it with something less than due process of law? To crack the case - and for the second time in the series (Bloody Waters was the first) - Lupe heads to Cuba with her cigar-smoking, rum-drinking, machete-swinging friend Barbara, and once again she's so busy keeping her head down and getting the job done that she hasn't much time to gawk at her homeland. Possibly because of this her adventures on the island have an air of verisimilitude, so much so that you wonder if the author, who was born there, has been back doing research. She mixes these elements with an intriguing take on the mystery surrounding the "Hunt for the Unicorn" tapestries (currently part of the Cloisters Collection in New York's Metropolitan Museum of Art), her usual generous dollop of Miami-Cuban culture and private investigator procedure and, inevitably, a few dead bodies, to make a thoroughly enjoyable story.

Stolen Valor is a scathing wake up call on issues revolving around Vietnam veterans. Particularly striking is how the authors debunk a whole series of Vietnam myths which have become "conventional wisdom"; that is, the liberal media's view of the war and its aftermath. It is amazing how many of these myths collapse when examined carefully, and disturbing how many of them are inter-related and support each other. The "homeless, PTSD-deranged Vietnam vet" and "wholesale U.S. atrocities" are good examples. As the authors point out, there is no greater incidence of PTSD among Vietnam vets than any other group of veterans, and no greater incidence of mental illness than the general population. So where did all those freaked-out homeless vets come from? A few are authentic, but many - possibly most - are fakes to some degree. Some never even served at all! They justify their feeding out of the public trough by claiming to have been mentally scarred by the awful atrocities they were forced to commit in Vietnam, atrocities which (for the most part) never happened. My feeling after reading this is that the liberal news media have much to answer for. Myth has been so piled upon myth that they seem to have advanced beyond mere bias, to a point best described as "pathological." When they don't bother with elementary checking of facts, when they don't even care what the truth is, they cease to fulfil a useful role in society. This book should be required reading in all college journalism programs.