Word: cleland
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Dates: during 1970-1979
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Veterans Administrator Max Cleland, 36, whose right arm and both legs were blown away by a grenade near Khe Sanh, has begun pushing programs to alleviate some of the Viet vets' problems. Among the initiatives...
...feelings that the service they rendered was meaningless and the nation's anguish and anger over Viet Nam were transferred unfairly to them. Not long ago, a Viet Nam veteran in Minneapolis was asked if there was anything he would particularly like to say to Max Cleland when the VA chief arrived in the city for a scheduled visit. The vet brooded for a moment, then replied, half sardonically, half plaintively: "Yes. 'When are we going to get our parade...
...tackling explicitly sexual subjects, Nin was poaching on an established male preserve. Pornography in all its guises had al most always been written by men and for men. Not only was Fanny Hill no lady, she was not even a woman; she was the mouthpiece for John Cleland. Moll Flanders, another notable 18th century bawd, was of course the creation of Daniel Defoe. Nin recognized this problem, and her attempted solutions give Little Birds some historical value...
...rather dated question need only consider the initial reaction of the Veterans' Administration, which refused to cooperate in the filming after its medical director, Dr. John D. Chase, called the script "a tissue of lies, distortions, and misrepresentations." (This policy was later reversed when President Carter appointed Max Cleland, himself a disabled vet, as head of Veteran Affairs.) We can't forget about these problems, the movie is saying, because they still exist...
Randy Clark, as Luisa's father Bellomy, and Stu Cleland, as Matt's father Hucklebee, are satisfactory, if uninspired. They are cramped by a script that demands they do little else but cultivate their gardens, whine about the natcher'l contrariness of young'uns and congratulate each other for manipulating their children into falling in love. We would like to laugh at these semi-competent parents, clad entirely in suburban plaids, but there is no one to whom they can play the foils, and the satire falls flat. Still, they do a fine job with their duets, singing and dancing...