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Twain and Lange now live in their chateau in Tour-de-Peilz, Switzerland, one of the more beautiful places in the world in which to bore yourself to tears. The food is great, the mountains are mountainous, and the people are impenetrable. "Hello" from a stranger is an embarrassing monologue. They moved there in part for tax purposes and in part because their 3,000-acre spread in upstate New York was no longer private enough. Twain has persuaded her record label not to promote her music in Switzerland. They really like their privacy...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Shania Reigns | 12/9/2002 | See Source »

Ultimately, answering the question of how much more listeners can stand becomes impossible. While The Donnas’ sound and image are such a trademark that any experimentation would feel awkward and staged, this very lack of experimentation will also come to bore their old listeners. It’s nice to finally see the ladies reach a wider audience on the radio and on TRL, where their music can ensnare young listeners who think Avril Lavigne is just about as punk as they come. But for a fresher taste of a woman’s boot in your mouth...

Author: By Ben B. Chung and Laura Dichtel, CRIMSON STAFF WRITERS | Title: New Music | 12/5/2002 | See Source »

Last night, a number of campaign posters supporting other candidates bore bold, red pencil scrawls reading “Rohit...

Author: By Alexander J. Blenkinsopp, CRIMSON STAFF WRITER | Title: Council Race Heats Up | 12/4/2002 | See Source »

When one blue pickup rumbled into camp, it bore the body of a doe. A twelve-gauge slug had blasted through the tenderloin just behind the ribcage. Two fawns had been at her side. Paul, the hunter, had a wife and two daughters. He had been in a snowmobile accident four years ago. “The thing I enjoy most is getting out in the woods,” he said. “Obviously I can’t do it myself...

Author: By Melissa W. Inouye, CRIMSON STAFF WRITER | Title: Hunting and Hope | 11/27/2002 | See Source »

...might be right. Within 15 minutes of my first fireball sighting, thunderhead clouds that had been threatening ominously suddenly bore down with full force. The heavens opened, and fierce gusts of wind turned the rain horizontal. At Wat Paa Luang, the fireballs were forgotten in the stampede for shelter. A soaked mass of humanity huddled under flapping tents, as the booms and bangs and drawn-out rumbles of the tempest sounded more and more like the admonitions of an irate demigod...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Behind the Secret of the Naga's Fire | 11/17/2002 | See Source »

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