Christopher P. Winner, Author at The American Mag

Misunderstanding General Giáp

Amy Bernstein was over and under and into the moon, and I was, by chance, the only boy within reach [...]

Israel makes war under the cover of a legacy of victimhood. With impunity and at times indiscriminately, it attacks all [...]

With my mother now a resident of Neverland, camped out in Europe by choice and what she might do next [...]

After I interrupted Tony and Sarah in their anatomical machinations in my garage, and was humiliated as a result, I [...]

The surge of female trouble that culminated, at least for me, in my mother’s decision that she would not be [...]

I am the madman of my apartment block. I have this propensity that is entirely un-Italian: I leave my front [...]

In June 1967, I was a scaled-down Moshe Dayan in my bunker-like basement. Like the Israeli commander, I wore a [...]

As a child, I collected souls (but it was only when the deities slumbered). It mattered little that I did [...]

I am not Jules Verne, H.G. Wells, or Philip K. Dick, writers who contemplated the imagined as a matter of [...]

If the end of the Jurassic Period marked the beginning of the end for the dinosaurs, my twelfth birthday (two [...]

Like a lounge lizard on mean-street rounds, depression makes itself at home with carcinogenic panache. Panache inverted to suit goblets [...]

Ah, girls. What little boy under age ten, however partisan to his lizardly reptilian tribe, could simply pretend they did [...]