Word: compleatly
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...mysteries, however, is how Mrs. Gandhi, the compleat politician, so misjudged the national mood when she called the elections. She is known to have been worried last fall about the sterilization backlash and other bureaucratic tyrannies in North India. But in November Sanjay made a whirlwind tour of Uttar Pradesh and was greeted by the usual crowds-supplied, of course, by the local authorities. Similarly, when Sanjay and his elder brother Rajiv visited a community of resettled slumdwellers, they were given a tumultuous welcome-as ordered by party officials. Mrs. Gandhi, deprived of a free press and served...
...COMPLEAT BIRDMAN by PETER HAINING 160 pages. Illustrated. St. Martin's Press...
...Compleat Birdman wittily analyzes the unearthly urge that inspired biblical figures, Leonardo da Vinci and just about everyone else who ever wanted to trade the land for the wind. Here is Simon Magus, an early Roman necromancer who rose skyward (possibly by means of a balloon) before a crowd that included St. Peter. To the relief of the early Christian spectators, Magus suffered an instant-and fatal-crash. Haining wistfully relates the tale of Bladud, a doomed 9th century British king, who borrowed a page from Greek mythologies and perished like Icarus with a pair of feather-and-wax wings...
...compleat anti-Nader catalogue has been assembled by David Sanford, former managing editor of the liberal New Republic who once collaborated with Nader on a book (Hot War on the Consumer). In a slim 135-page critique, Me & Ralph, Sanford seems obsessively concerned about his personal problems in editing the prickly Nader's syndicated newspaper column and about Nader's deteriorating relations with the New Republic. Sanford and Nader fell out over these not uncommon editor-author frictions in 1973. Sanford thereupon completed an anti-Nader article for Esquire, but was dissuaded from publishing it by then...
...Yorker. It was also dotted with the lucky recipients of his approval: mayflies like Baby Jane Holzer, cultish ephemerids like Marshall McLuhan and social grotesques like the collector-exhibitionists Robert and Ethel Scull, all festooned in yards of Wolfe's glittery, incontinent prose. He was the compleat '60s fashion plate, so much a part of the hustling, celebrity-obsessed triviality of the time that even now he can hardly be detached from it-a sort of two-dimensional Cocteau, with the poetry subtracted...