Word: bumptiousness
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Dates: during 1940-1949
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Sitting in a rear-row seat, right next to Freshman Senator Truman, Freshman Senator Minton gave his theory of a highly flexible Constitution a bumptious workout. In 1937, after the New Deal had given up its court-packing scheme, he proposed a drastic change in the Supreme Court's procedure-one which would require a two-thirds majority in all decisions dealing with the constitutionality of acts of Congress. Minton later toyed with the Constitution again, when he introduced a bill to gag the press by imposing a $1,000,-to-$10,000 fine on publications which printed...
...individuals, the garment workers are the most disputatious, diverse, and in some ways the most innately disrespectful of authority of any segment in all U.S. labor. But they have a boss who is much more than a boss. To them, busy, bumptious little David Dubinsky is leader, father, prophet and demigod. To his I.L.G.W.U., they display furious devotion. It is a school, a welfare clinic, a social life and a political mentor. It is, as some of them say, a way of life...
...work made up a good three fourths of the show often seemed little more than hurried illustrators of passing quips. Yet the best of them, typified by Punch's present Editor Cyril K. Bird (portraits of England's beleaguered middle class) and the Evening Standard's bumptious David Low, showed the old English bite and a talent for good-natured selfcriticism, albeit streamlined...
...staffers of Hearst's Los Angeles Evening Herald & Express wanted to give their boss a birthday present, perhaps a plaid shirt like the gaudy ones he usually wears. Managing Editor John Bayard Taylor Campbell, whose loud & lusty journalism had given the paper (circ. 410,470) its bumptious slogan-"The biggest daily west of Chicago"*-last week was celebrating his 69th birthday and his 50th year in the newspaper business. But when the party-loving reporters got started on the celebration, there was no stopping...
...ivory tower, with its feet planted firmly in the Manhattan market place. Marsh, a retiring 50-year-old chunk of a man, spends whole days at his studio window on the top floor, surveys the square below through a telescope. The caved-in bums, bundled up news vendors and bumptious, pneumatic-looking shopgirls that catch his eye are swiftly translated into notebook sketches and filed away in a steel cabinet...