Word: blankings
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...Crimson attackers escalated their pressure, it seemed like only a matter of time before Harvard would convert the go-ahead goal. Harvard fired 13 shots in the second half and, during a particularly offensive five-minute span, created three point-blank opportunities...
...absorbing new book, For the Love of God: The Faith and Future of the American Nun (Morrow; 239 pages; $24). Kaylin, the "daughter of a Jewish-born atheist father and a lapsed Lutheran mother who has since turned to Zen Buddhism," approaches the subject with a respectful, blank-canvas curiosity. Some of the nuns she interviews are cloistered, emerging only briefly from a shuttered existence. Others live in apartment complexes and work in boardrooms, indistinguishable from their secular counterparts. All seem inclined toward frank discussion of their faith--from describing morning prayers as "spiritual Drano" to accepting the likely demise...
...next week, of course, I really can't afford to stare at anything other than the blank spaces on my screen where words are supposed to be for the thesis I should be writing. But I've used excuses like that a lot over the past four years, and soon, they won't work anymore. I'll have to account for what I choose to spend my time staring at. And when I see terrible things like the ones halfway across the world, I'll have to stop and think about what I spend my time staring at. Then...
...Steve Allen... Readers under 50 are drawing a blank here, unless they think of a mild-mannered gent with a muskrat toupee who was recently seen fulminating on the lack of standards in contemporary TV (We know, we know, the kids say - it's not nearly gross enough). Perhaps it is natural for every forerunner to become a fossil if he lives long enough. Allen didn't live quite long enough; he was just 78 when he died last Sunday, and was still producing books, songs and impudent opinions at an exhausting rate. But this longtime talker will be remembered...
...exploded "Contact Sheet Self-Portraits," by the local photographer Karl Baden, depict storms of skin, dissociated from their normal facial placement and set against blank sky backgrounds. Each picture in the set of 35 on each contact sheet shows a minute part of Baden's face. Baden rearranges these segments-mouth, nose and eyes repeat in a row, are wrongly placed, or are not there at all. In one portrait, the flesh pulls and pushes apart like an epidermal big bang. Another print plays on the truism that "no man is an island," shoving all the flesh into the center...