Word: coke
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...shiny thing embedded in a wall of the chapel in the Branch Davidian compound, where he took refuge with fellow believers. It was the middle of a lull between government tear-gas assaults, and in the calm, Thibodeau studied the thing. "It was the size of a Coke can," he says. "Silver, stainless steel in color. There were three fins on the back. It was some kind of projectile." Before he could look more closely, however, the screech of tanks started up again. Chaos ensued. Then fire. Thibodeau's tale of the wayward rocket is one of many now rekindling...
...deceptions aren't equal. On the scale of untruths, from I-love-your-mother's-cooking to I-would-never-hurt-Nicole, George Bush's cuteness about coke ranks pretty low. He's not telling us explicitly that he did drugs as a kid, but, hey, in that 60 Minutes interview, Clinton never said he was a skirt hound either. He just bit his lip and acknowledged "pain in my marriage." When CBS's Steve Kroft tried to pin Clinton on specifics, he demurred, saying that the American people "got" what he meant. Bush is basically winking...
...better." Manners are deception by another name. The same is true of politics. We say we want politicians to give us the unvarnished truth, but at the end of the day we really don't want to hear a detailed history of a candidate's bathroom coke snorts any more than, say, Iowans want to hear that subsidizing ethanol is a dubious use of government money (something that even self-styled truth tellers like Bill Bradley can't bring themselves...
Here in the U.S., we've got software gods, Web commerce wizards and computer-chip kings. But when it comes to wireless technology, the Finns rule. Just look at what they can do with a cellular phone: buy a Coke from a vending machine. Run a car wash. Zap a digital picture to a friend. On this side of the Atlantic, we're just glad when our calls aren't cut off midsentence...
...group. Solotaroff, a journalist, profiles a group that Lathon boasts is the "smartest bunch of people I've ever assembled": Sara, a beautiful former model turned fashion editor crippled in her search for a husband by daddy issues; Rex, a Wall Street jock recovering from an addiction to both coke and a blond-bombshell stripper; Dylan, a rock-'n'-roll sideman and jingle writer in the throes of alcoholism; Jack, a 59-year-old Broadway producer and former big spender suspended from producing for seven years, a plea bargain for embezzling from his shows; Peter, a wimpy accountant; and Lina...