Word: armes
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Dates: during 1990-1999
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...federal building to survive the explosion, 20-month-old P.J. was battered almost beyond recognition. One lung collapsed. He had burns on half his body, and the heat fused his vocal cords together. One earlobe was ripped off, both eardrums were ruptured, and his corneas were damaged. His left arm snapped in three places. For 30 days P.J. remained in the intensive-care unit at Children's Hospital of Oklahoma and doctors prepared his grandparents and legal guardians, Deloris and Willie Watson, for the worst: even if he survived the fevers and infections, he would probably suffer brain damage from...
...already read Redfield, maybe you'll enjoy mulling a Michael Milken. The financier's first book, Unconventional Wisdom, will be published in August by Knowledge Exchange, a consulting firm with a book-publishing arm that Milken partially owns. There is no sound track, but Milken does narrate the audiobook...
...festival (half of whose million-dollar annual budget is underwritten by the Humana Foundation, the philanthropic arm of Humana Inc., the Louisville-based health-care company) is not exactly a secret. "What we've tried to be," says Jon Jory, the ATL's guiding light for 27 years, "is a freshet for the American repertoire." Among the 224 new plays in the fest's 20 years are two Pulitzer Prize winners, The Gin Game and Crimes of the Heart, as well as Agnes of God, Extremities and off-Broadway's current Below the Belt. And however perilous the playwright...
After all, if guns are outlawed, only outlaws will have guns. Here, in fact, lies the solution to our problems. Instead of taking guns away from our nation's children, we should arm them. Yup, no big bad gangster is come after little Billy with a gun if he knows the tyke is sporting his own firepower. Mandatory handgun training should be added to our elementary schools' curricula. Peace through superior firepower. It won the cold war, you know...
...tried to fall asleep in Lamont yesterday, on the fifth floor in one of those cubicles formed by the walls of books. There I was, lounging in a teal plastic-leather chair with my feet propped on an even less comfortable wooden one. My head was resting on the arm, poised for slumber, but all I could do was stare at the Cambridge History of Iran on the shelf in front of me. Lamont just isn't equipped for napping...