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Word: comas (lookup in dictionary) (lookup stats)
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...seems like a no-brainer. Call waiting has been around for more than a decade, so why does it slip into a coma when I'm surfing the Web on my home computer and a friend tries to call me on the same line? After all, a modem connection is just another phone call. But for all our high-tech wizardry, my friends still get a busy signal even if I'm just deleting junk e-mail or downloading a song. I may get a little drowsy at the keyboard, but I can still multitask--if only my PC will...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Never Too Busy | 11/29/1999 | See Source »

...Evel Knievel ends up in a coma for 30 days after attempting to jump over the fountains at Caesars Palace...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Then And Now: Nov. 29, 1999 | 11/29/1999 | See Source »

...sure what will happen to our computer-assisted jets, nuclear power plants and electricity-supply lines at the moment '99 rolls over into '00. A flurry of bug- fixing and Y2K-readiness reports over the past year seems to have lulled most of us into a what-me-worry? coma, but it hasn't made the problem go away. There are untold millions of embedded chips and creaky old computer systems that will continue to keep track of the date in terms of two-digit years, and no one can predict with certainty how many of our silicon friends will...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: The Y2K Bug: Do We Still Have To Worry? | 11/29/1999 | See Source »

...board closed MIT's Phi Gamma Delta fraternity in September 1997 in the wake of the death of Scott Krueger, an 18-year-old first-year. Kreuger drank himself into a coma at a fraternity party...

Author: By Robert J. Coolbrith, CRIMSON STAFF WRITER | Title: Licensing Board May Close MIT Fraternity | 10/28/1999 | See Source »

When I came out of the coma, a month after the accident, I looked at myself with amazement. I had lost 30 lbs. My smoking habit, a pack a day, had been broken. My skin bore graffiti--fine white scars from surgery--and the X rays showed an astonishing clutter of pins, screws, nails, spikes, plates and wires, as though the right side of my body were a reject costume design for RoboCop. My muscles had wasted away from inaction, and I could scarcely move without severe pain. I stank of sweat and urine. And I felt almost crazily happy...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: In Death's Throat | 10/11/1999 | See Source »

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