Temples in the Promised Land

I got into history in between high school and college, which was a couple years. I’d outgrown, for the most part, the crappy novels I was reading—novelizations, tie-ins—and needed something else. Someone had recommended Washington Goes to War and I’d loved it, so I started reading a bunch of history books. Back then, a friend of mine and I would go out on payday (we worked different places, but had the same Friday payday schedule) and picked up books, music, movies. I’d leave Barnes and Noble with a stack of history books and maybe a CD I should’ve bought somewhere else for a dollar cheaper. Oh, the days before Amazon. I got a book called 1939: The Lost World of the Fair. It was a combination non-fiction account of the 1939 World’s Fair but also some fiction—some guy looking for his girlfriend at each exhibit. I gave up on the fiction chapters but the non-fiction is great. The author had this wonderful detail about all these world’s of the future—shown in minature—they had no churches. No temples in the promised land. I’ve always liked the concept abstractly.

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