A collection of Birmingham Weekly Photography of the devastation caused by tornadoes on April 27, 2011.

When you think of old pulp magazines or racy detective stories, you may not think of long-dead American writer Henry Miller, but I can’t help making that connection because of a passage from his book Black Spring.

Who has time for learning anymore? The leisure time between working, sleeping and eating that used to be the domain of self-education has become filled with a thousand little digital chunklets all vying for our attention.

But Brogan, a seemingly down-to-earth Maine native, didn’t mind making jokes about his field of endeavor to amuse 50 or so attendees at his presentation here, which was held in a conference area in the BJCC exhibition hall just off the busy expo floor.

Human beings have an innate need to believe in something. We are capable of achieving things, great things, things well beyond our means, if only we believe that it is possible. Conversely, we can be drawn into some of the most reprehensible behavior mankind is capable of by belief.

After reading her blog posts at al.com about last weekend’s BAAM Festival, I feel I’ve got legitimate reason to wonder. Her first installment, “First impression: Friday night at BAAM, the Birmingham Arts and Music Festival” should have been called “Local Music Fest Boasts Only Local Music.

Hello Birmingham. Nice to formally meet you! I’ve been lurking in the background at the paper for a while now, getting our new website ready and contributing an article or a photograph every once and a while, but it’s nice to take the final steps into editorship.

Yeah, it’s time for another exciting “letter from the editor.” The only other one I’ve written was printed in March, in my first paper as managing editor. This is my final paper as managing editor, so—once again—it’s time to say… something. It’s 9:45 a.m. on Wednesday, deadline day. I have about 45 minutes to write this piece. That’s it. Of course, I’ve already written the damned thing in my head a hundred times. It feels as though this piece should be a summing up, but of more than just my exhausting, emotionally rich few months as editor of this newspaper. It’s more a summing up of 53 years of trying to prove myself, of trying to be a good soldier.

It’s my last day as managing editor, so I decided to write whatever the hell I want. The following proposals, I believe, could dramatically improve this city of my birth, this city that I love (and hate… natives will understand my schizophrenia). Some of the proposals are wackier than others. Some are not at all original. But if you want to see Vulcan alive again, you’ll do what I say.

All Jesse Chambers wants to do is write and write and write. This is a man who, at the age of 50, decided the written word was his true calling, and he is not to be distracted—except for when he became editor of Birmingham Weekly three and a half months ago… reluctantly. Jesse knew that he was the only one who could step in and provide the necessary skills the paper needed in a very difficult time. His natural talent and a refusal to accept less than the best he can give, qualities that make Jesse an excellent writer, are the same things that made him a top-notch editor. He has worked tireless hours and, as regular readers of the paper know, it shows.