Word: confession
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Dates: during 1970-1979
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...take precedence over all other questions. At each moment of my academic life. I find myself having to explain why I teach in the "refuse heap of academia." Sometimes, overwhelmed by evidences of the most "objective" kind. I, like Aime Cesaire, am forced to "declare my crimes" and confess that "the expanse of my perversity confounds me." Yet, I must make a further confession. I must confess that I love my people and find no other salvation but writing for my people, studying with my people, and attempting to share my knowledge with my people...
...most complex, confounding piece of technical negotiation attempted by man. It comprises an almost endless combination of methods of destruction. They have to be defined and conceptualized before negotiators can even start looking for formulas to restrict them. Only a handful of specialists claim to be experts, and most confess that they are frequently startled to learn what they do not know." The talks have also been slowed for political reasons, like the change of Administration in the U.S. and the Kremlin's annoyance at being criticized by Carter for human rights violations...
...month refused to let a black baby into the whites-only hospital? It didn't matter that there were no beds free in the black hospital, he said; the baby could share with another black. Or the white farmer who severely beat his black maid to get her to confess to stealing the madam's purse; it wasn't shocking because he beat her, only because she died of the injuries. It must be some kind of unconscious puberty rite that white South Africans go through: I cannot believe that at six, they could be so inhumane...
...dignity of the church militant will be pleased to know that the bishop's residence was finally painted by volunteers four years ago. But going to lunch with his excellency might give them pause. These days, when the bishop brings home a guest, he tends to grin and confess, "Lost the front door key. We'll have to go round the back." Then he leads the way to an entrance that has been patched with plywood since thieves broke in to steal last spring. They only got $1, the bishop happily reports, and were lucky at that. Normally...
...must confess that Northern Ireland was one of those places I never read about until I met a fey, green-eyed lady from Belfast atacocktail party in New York City. We spoke only briefly amidst a throng of minglers and I asked why she had come to the United States. In reply, she dug around in her purse, and proudly produced a small box. Mystified, I held out my hand and she placed a heavy gold medal in it. Upon closer inspection I realized I was holding a Nobel Peace Prize, and the the lady I was speaking with...