Word: clocked
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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...widely differing theories about the nature of the mysterious radio sources. There was unanimity about only one point: pulsars beeped with clocklike regularity. The pulses from space seemed so precisely timed that some scientists advocated their use as a universal time standard more accurate than even an atomic clock. Others suggested that the signals could provide a reliable timing device for astronauts on distant missions or for experimental checks on the theory of relativity. Now new discoveries have undermined these imaginative plans: pulsars, like clocks that need winding, are gradually running down...
Every morning at 9 o'clock during 1960, Private Jean-Pierre Ponelle of the French army reported in smock and fatigues to an art studio on the military compound at Baden-Baden. Shortly afterward, his commander, General Paul Vanuxem, appeared and watched for hours as Ponelle, a onetime student of Leger, painted a 30-foot, three-paneled canvas glorifying the French army. A few months after Ponelle finished the mammoth triptych, Vanuxem was arrested as a secret leader of the O.A.S. and jailed, winning acquittal only after a two-year fight. The painting he commissioned was installed...
...gave new depth and scope to the familiar slogan, "All the News That's Fit to Print"; after a long illness; in Manhattan. Sulzberger tempered his indomitable dignity with wry good humor. In order to succeed, he once said, "you work very hard, you never watch the clock, you polish up the handle on the big front door. And you marry the boss's daughter." Sulzberger did just that. In 1917 the young Columbia graduate married Iphigene Ochs, the only child of Times Publisher Adolph Ochs, who had wanted his daughter to marry a newspaperman to perpetuate...
...Hence the cuckoo clock in Hell--keeping perfect time for eight minutes and twenty-three seconds, jumping ahead two seconds, keeping perfect time for two hours and one second, then jumping ahead a year...
...totalitarian mind, a mind which might be likened to a system of gears whose teeth had been filed off at random. Such a snaggle-toothed thought machine, driven by a standard or even by a substandard libido, whirls with the jerky, noisy, gaudy, pointlessness of a cuckoo clock in Hell...