Word: claddings
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There they were, shoulder to shoulder, about as disparate as a pair could be. The business-suited pragmatist and the fatigue-clad revolutionary. Mikhail Gorbachev and Fidel Castro. New thinking and old orthodoxy. Castro talked the most, but Gorbachev had the last word. He coolly rejected Castro's policy of exporting revolution, a central tenet of the Cuban leader's 30-year rule. Until a very few years ago, Moscow's leaders too preached worldwide support for wars of national liberation. But Gorbachev's words in Havana seemed intended to reinforce his professed determination to replace such vaporous ideology with...
...palm fronds rattle behind the right-field fence. The odors of peanuts, mustard and beer waft over the emerald green grass, and in the inebriating sunshine, laughter and catcalls issue from the bleachers. An eight-year-old boy waves a miniature bat, a bikini-clad college student ogles the first baseman, and a pair of guys in U.A.W. T shirts argue earned-run averages in the shade of an entryway tunnel. At the plate, a nervous hopeful up from the minors squares his batting helmet and prays to the puffy clouds above the orange groves: God, please send the next...
...transition period dawned on April 1, some 1,300 SWAPO troops armed with AK-47 rifles swarmed into Namibia from their bases in southern Angola. Even as thousands of red-green-and-blue-clad SWAPO supporters chanted "Freedom is in our hands" at noisy celebrations in the capital of Windhoek, the guerrillas were coaxing donkeys carrying rocket launchers and other artillery through the thick sand of the bush. According to captured prisoners, SWAPO commanders told their troops that UNTAG would allow them to establish military bases in Namibia, where they would be "confined to barracks" like the South African battalions...
...Nathan Marsh Pusey '28, president of Harvard since 1953, opponent of Sen. Joseph McCarthy and something of a hero among liberals in the early part of his career, call in police clad in riot gear to break up the takeover...
...there in this great land of ours, the beige-clad ranks of the image- deprived stand in huddled multitudes. They are people who do not realize their hair is too long or their pants are too short, professional people who walk around dressed unwittingly like flight attendants or supermarket managers. Who will tell them their professional image needs help? And how does one begin? Over lunch maybe, with a lame joke? "Hey, I bet this salad knows a thing or two about dressing. Ha! But seriously . . ." It is like telling them they have halitosis...