Word: chick
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...even "where it's at." Fresh not long ago, they are now unspeakable for those who would sound current. Things aren't "groovy" or "cool" any more -these two resurrected favorites of the '40s are dead again. The Women's Liberation Movement has consigned "chick" to outer darkness; say "sister" or holler uncle. Even "like"-as in "like you know how it is, man"-is on the blacklist. So is "man," for that matter. And the angry protester who still cries "Right on" risks being right off; the old Black Panther slogan has been co-opted...
...what it's like being black. In uniform, you're a marked dude. You're prey to all sorts of people trying to fuck you out of a dollar or your watch or your sanity for Christ sake. You can't eat in a good restaurant, no decent-looking chick will talk to you. Man, you find yourself on even ground with all the other outsiders-winos, whores, queers, hustlers, all the waterfront freaks. What a fucking slap in the face to your manhood...
...enclosed building but they can still run and sing for minutes and even gang up on an isolated policeman. The students cough: they bleed; they cry-but it is all razzle-dazzle ball and tonight they will exaggerate their battle wounds so they can sleep with the sexy chick or that long-haired John Wayne who served in "the Sorbonne, Berkeley, and now here...
Like the earlier Snowdon effort, Love of a Kind is an evocative film essay on human loneliness and eccentricity. There are amusing flashes, as when a bosomy matron hatches a chick in her cleavage, but the general mood is straightforwardly clinical. Fetishism is obviously poignant and, at times, repugnant to Snowdon. Just as his work on aging contained some hospital footage as brutal as any in MASH, he is again deliberately trying to stir his audience. In one vignette, a curmudgeonly lady remarks that upon her death, she wants her 35 dogs "quietly put to sleep." Unfortunately...
...University of Chicago, like many another converted introvert, he woke up to performing. Wit is far more often a shield than a lance; " Mike set up a complex of defenses that (TM) made him the fastest tongue in the Midwest. The second fastest was a hostile = chick named Elaine May. It was love I at first fight. "Elaine held me like an autistic child," Nichols remembers. The child bride he had taken at 19 was cast off. Elaine became a surrogate, although, says Mike, "it was much too serious for marriage." And much too funny not to play...