Books

These are not cozy book reviews; they’re cross-examinations. I read like a choreographer with a red pen, clocking every lazy metaphor and under-rehearsed idea. One might be a feel-good education manifesto, the next a biography begging to be taken down a peg. If a book sings, I’ll say so; if it clunks, I’ll tap-dance on its weak spots. Expect dry humor, theatrical side-eye, and the occasional affectionate drag of even the books I secretly enjoyed.