Bøker av Darwin Sator

All of his life, Darwin Sator wondered why the New Testament contains so many appeals to hate and prejudice, why it so often contradicts itself, and why magic, as opposed to wisdom, has become so important to Christians. Following in the footsteps of a mystery man, a genius he calls The Illuminator, Sator believes he has found the answers. According to the author, The Gospel of Jesus was vandalized (in essence, rewritten) 1,500 years ago in Alexandria, Egypt, by a group of men who had a lot of interest in building a church and promoting themselves, but very little dedication to the teachings of Jesus. Sator believes, furthermore, that the damage to The Gospel(s) can be undone to the satisfaction of most reasonable men and women. Amazing? Yes, it is. You must see for yourself. You owe it to yourself. At minimum, The Crisscross Double-cross is a riveting historical mystery based -- as everybody claims nowadays -- on real life. While relating how The Gospel was sabotaged, Sator proposes a number of secondary theories, among them: that Peter and Paul never saw Rome, that Matthew, Mark and Luke didn't write gospels, and that Paul may not have authored any of the epistles. It is very possible, he says, that at least four of the five never even existed. You might ask, "Who is this crackpot?" and while Sator doesn't believe he's a common-variety Bible nut, he concedes that he'd be the last to know. "You're invited," he says, "to read the book and draw your own conclusions."

About 10 years ago a skeptical friend asked Darwin Sator, "What's so great about Turkey?" to which he replied, "I'll make you a list." A year later, Sator presented his friend a list of what he considered 100 very interesting facts. He kept a copy, and kept adding to it. A couple of years ago, when the list passed 300, he started thinking about writing a little book to share his excitement with others. The Turchophile File contains an improbable total of 475 interesting facts. ("Gotta stop somewhere," Sator says.) They are presented willy nilly, not to confuse the reader exactly, but to prevent him from viewing the country from any narrow perspective. The original idea was to call the book Turkish Trivia, Talking Turkey or Turkish Tidbits, which have the advantage of being alliterative, but while some of it is definitely trivia, more of it isn't, and the other two names make you think of that bird again. The Turcophile File is better. It's alliterative too, and it says exactly what the author wants it to say, which is: "I love this place, and I'll bet you would love it too."