Word: blendings
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Dates: during 1990-1999
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...ready to dive into my Harvard career. However, by the time my crutches and I made it to Tercentenary Theater for opening convocation, I was ready to turn around and give up. In every way, Harvard just seemed so big, a place where, at best, I would anonymously blend in the with the crowd and where, at worst, I would be the slowpoke on crutches who was left behind in every activity...
Friedland appears to have a great time swaggering through his role, a not-always-convincing blend of male bravado and hangdog romanticism. As Frankie stares at him over her kitchen counter, Johnny surmises, "I bet I know what you're thinking now: he's too good to be true!" Friedland nails the wink-wink self-assurance of the line, but is almost equally convincing in an impulsive phone call to a radio station, admitting that he and Frankie are "great beauties neither one," but asking regardless for "the most beautiful music in the world...
...hope for the future of American race relations," as Besharov puts it. Letting people define themselves as multiracial, Etzioni argues, "has the potential to soften the racial lines that now divide America by rendering them more like economic differences and less like harsh, almost immutable, caste lines." Those who blend many streams of ethnicity within their own bodies, the argument goes, will render race a meaningless concept, providing a biological solution to the problem of racial justice. This idea reflects a deeply pessimistic view of human nature. It suggests that people can get along with each other only if they...
...wince at the thought of wearing heels like so many feminists here. For instance, when I went to Russia, people who had lived there told me that I should leave my jeans at home and buy some nice skirts and high heels so that I would blend in. Crisis number one. As an American feminist, I had always yelled at my mother when she would suggest that I wear heels. If I went to a formal dance, I would complain to my date about my heels. When I whined about my feet hurting, I felt as if I were apologizing...
...Martin is also a hunted man, mostly by Dan Aykroyd's Grocer, a goofily rational rival determined either to bring him into a hired killers' union that he is intent on forming or, failing that, to off the competition. Curiously enough, Grocer and his henchmen blend quite easily into the suburban scene. Grosse Pointe may have grander homes and less snow than, say, Fargo, but spiritually they are sister cities--places where everyone tries to maintain an air of chipper blandness in the face of postmodernism's disorder...