Word: cluelessness
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...ballroom gown who has been happily swept off her feet by a dance partner in Jerry Hill and Margaret Sell. In another shot, Vera Antinoro, Rhoda Camporato and Murray Goldman, two aging glamour girls strut their stuff, what there is of it. They may seem at first to be clueless about themselves, until you realize that they are onto something about all of us, something that has to do with the need to persevere in roles that give us pleasure, at whatever cost to our dignity. The flesh may be weak here--to say nothing of creased, puckered and pooched...
...Clueless corporations, which have typically approached the office as a storage site for people and paper, are only just starting to think outside the cubicle, imagining work spaces that foster interaction, not isolation. By 2025, though, the standard-issue, gloomy maze of hallways and bullpens of today may well be replaced--once they have been fully depreciated, that is--by a wide range of office setups that, just like the new economy, stress customization over mass appeal. In this newfangled, dynamic working environment, employees should be able to personalize their work spaces and constantly reconfigure their surroundings to suit...
...STOCKBROKERS, AUTO DEALERS, MAIL CARRIERS, INSURANCE AND REAL ESTATE AGENTS The Internet will eradicate middlemen by the millions, with a hardy few remaining to service the clueless. You'll cut us a deal, right...
Warning to consummate - indeed competent - professional actresses: do not hope for recognition at Cannes. Instead, the nod will go to clueless amateurs who display their bodies or souls in so raw a manner that the jury will mistake pity for awe and give them the prize. Von Trier had earlier declared that Bjork was no actress, as if those who'd seen the film needed reminding. But Besson and the jury, which included oughta-know-better actors Jeremy Irons and Kristin Scott Thomas, didn't take the hint...
...favorite is the autobiography of Lana Turner, published some years ago. It is a strangely affecting work - eerily clueless and humorless - in which a certain southern California/film noir/'40s bleakness persuades the reader, after a hundred pages, that in a former life, Lana Turner and Richard Nixon may have been the same person. It is a spooky experience...