Word: ammo
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...wife got cancer. That's strike two. And finally, there was the whole having-a-baby-with-another-blonder-woman-while-your-wife-is-getting-chemo thing. This was a union that took some hard knocks. But it seemed to be pulling through. Like an old gunslinger down on ammo but fending off the lynch mob, the marriage had people rooting for its survival...
...airliner on Christmas Day has raised talk of striking at al-Qaeda in Yemen, where the plot is believed to have originated. Yet the extremists operating from Yemen present the military with precious view good "aim points." In the old days, the enemy had airfields, early-warning radars, ammo depots - even big defense and intelligence headquarters - that could be destroyed from the air. A general could stride manfully out to the Pentagon podium, wave his pointer like a magic wand at a map where little explosion drawings had been inked, and gleefully tally up the destruction. (Read "The Lessons...
...purpose of the annual meeting, the same as it has been since the militia started in 1995, was to bring together the politics of left and right over speeches, food, live music, and, of course, live ammo. The attendees were a wildly diverse group: young activists and anarchists in black, old beat-up Maine woodsmen with beards to their bellies, retired white-haired college professors, Second Amendment zealots, conservatives, libertarians, Marxists. But they all shared the belief that the U.S. government has lost its moral authority, that both political parties had "degenerated," as one attendee put it, "into whores...
...herself. Over her jungle-camo jacket she strung a bandolier that held what looked like the 7.62 mm rounds for her AK-47, the rifle she calls "my baby" because "it kicks just a little bit and has a deep sound." But there was nothing deadly about her ammo: the shell casings were affixed with pencil points. "The point being," the novelist explained, "that we should make our pencils our bullets...
...right out of the headlines. If I sneeze, next week it's in the script. So that's cool, man. I'm a 40-year-old black man. I'm from Bed-Stuy, Brooklyn. What do the young white writers know about me? I have to give 'em the ammo...