Word: asks
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Dates: during 2000-2009
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...like if there was a sudden flood. It was sort of fun; I imagined sitting on a floating desk and paddling away. So I guess I was used to the idea of looking at an ordinary theme and imagining it as extraordinary. THC: When you write fantasy and you ask us to suspend disbelief, how do you know the limit? MR: It should be credible, and I tried very hard to make at least the possibility of its existence seem real. For example, for Astrophil [a mechanical, magic tin spider that is Petra’s constant companion], I mention...
Several aspects of Engdahl’s and Sarkozy’s opinions are disturbing. We should ask ourselves if it is possible to continue to evaluate literary achievement on a common and universal metric without in some way disadvantaging writers from nations with newly emerging literatures. And even if the question of abstract “fairness” seems irrelevant to the ultimate goal of the Nobel—which is to recognize superior lifetime achievement in the field of letters—that irrelevance renders the question of whether or not one can assign a national identity...
...When Martin L. Chalfie ’69 woke up a little after six from uninterrupted slumber, his first conscious thought was to ask who got this year’s Nobel Prize in Chemistry. He shuffled over to his computer and waited in a sleepy stupor as he checked the Internet for news of the announcement...
About 20 minutes into director Robert Weide’s new film, Kirsten Dunst asks Simon Pegg, after he steals her boyfriend’s seat at a crowded bar, “Do you know the meaning of karma?” He clearly does not, but after nearly two hours of such inane dialogue, any limited notion of karma should, at the very least, earn me a free lunch in the next life. “How to Lose Friends & Alienate People,” the movie adaptation of Toby Young’s memoir, stars Simon Pegg...
...wide that I decided to ditch my skintight spandex and get lost in a pair of wide-leg pants. Wide-leg trousers offer the solution to all of my issues with skinny jeans: One, you can breathe; two, you can move. That’s all I really ask from a pair of pants. Now, let me clarify that these aren’t the days of JNCOs—days when we pre-teen girls would do anything to have a drop of Backstreet Boy sweat fall on us at a concert, when we wore baggy jeans, belly-baring...