Word: chopping
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Civilization aspires to femininity. History has made man's age-old tools of muscles and marauding nearly obsolete; it urges him to put down swords and pick up phones, to value salon charm over brute force, to face adversity through nurturing and networking instead of a quick body chop. What a lovely evolution: men are becoming women. Except in movies, of course -- especially summer movies, where the O.K. Corral never closes and the footfalls of dinosaurs named Arnold and Sly still shake the earth...
...cannot get there by doing conservation, simply because the most diverse ecosystems are usually not the most productive in human terms." This means that development almost always brings losses of biological diversity. Instead of preserving the variety of a rain forest, for example, humans have the urge to chop down the trees and plant uniform crops...
...that the accused is incapable of premeditating a murder. "No, gentlemen, this skull here holds no plans," the defense claims. "What you see here is a thing . . . to hold the handle of a plow, a thing to load your bales of cotton, a thing to dig your ditches, to chop your wood, to pull your corn." In effect, Jefferson is not condemned to die like a man but be destroyed like a beast. Worse still, he believes that he is no better than a dumb animal...
...guys and good guys are easy to tell apart. The bad guys, everybody knows, are local TV stations that try to pass off cartoon shows like G.I. Joe and The Jetsons as "educational." The good guys are kindly kids' show hosts like Shari Lewis, who brought her puppet Lamb Chop to Washington last week to help plead for better children's programming. "We need the best you grownups have to offer," the sock puppet testified before a House subcommittee. "If you give it to us, we will give the good stuff back...
Except for the initial chanting, our vegan delights (cheese and eggs were optional) were taken in complete silence. "Clappers" directed our actions, while we placed our bowls side by side, aligning our chop sticks 30 degrees (I kid not) from the table's edge--tips out. With a bow or a hand signal, we took the food sliding down the table. This had to be devoured in all haste, because slow eating is indulgence...