Word: boyness
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Dates: during 2000-2009
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...kind of share the same difficult past, if you know what I'm saying." To which a deadpan Downey replied, "Are you a war veteran too?" When asked why he dodged the kid's obvious search for some advice on beating addiction, Downey suggests that being the poster boy for recovery is just another form of narcissism. Other stars have been known to call Downey for help, a responsibility he doesn't seem entirely comfortable with. "I know this: I'm not the recovering guy, and I'm not the drug-addled ne'er-do-well, you know...
...Muslim woman; her family whisked her off to Pakistan and he swallowed acid in the school laboratory, dying for love. A distant relative in Tanzania was charged with hiring killers to murder her oldest son, his wife and their babies because her husband threatened to disown her favorite younger boy. The papers called her "Lady Macbeth"; she fled to Pakistan and died alone...
...political tradition. Gryzlov pointedly used the English word "leader," rather than its Russian equivalent of Vozhd - because the Russian term is still closely associated with Stalin. The careful choice of words doesn't change the message, though. Indeed, some 70 years ago, urban legend has it that a little boy asked his father about Stalin. The father duly explained that Stalin was this country's Vozhd. "That's weird," the precocious progeny mused aloud. "I gathered from books that only primordial tribes needed a Vozhd. Civilized countries have constitutional governments...
...ambivalence or even happiness, an image had flashed through his mind. Despite the visual feast which lay before him–the flickering light, the bejeweled tortoise on Felicity’s dressing table, the nude voluptuousness of his wife–it was a vision of that stable boy, shirtless, standing knee deep in a lake, playing a violin, which had appeared before him. It was this image above anything else which had brought him to the brink of completion...
...dark rooms of his mansion, Frederick tried to erase the image from his mind. He tried to think of Felicity, of the housemaid, of the governess who had seduced him when he was twelve. But no bevy of bosomed beauties could match the burnished biceps of the stable boy and the masterful motion of his fingers as he coaxed music from the violin. The vision haunted him, and it would keep haunting him, a vision that even the oceans of port he imbibed that night would not wash away...