Word: creator
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...might console ourselves. I spent a good part of my teenage years hoping only to outlive the awkward indignities of adolescence. I prayed for the day when I'd be older--and, please God, taller--so I might assume the full status of a human being endowed by my Creator with certain unalienable rights, not least among these was staying out past 11 and entering bars at will. I endured my teenage years by placing faith in the future, only to look back and realize that I managed to miss Woodstock not once but twice...
...that she is. "She is a walking cartoon, a sight gag, and she knows it," says J.F. Lawton, the show's creator and screenwriter of Pretty Woman. "This year she is wearing the most ridiculous things in the world. Half the clothes come right out of her own closet." The show is in the classic giggle-and-jiggle genre. "We have more explosions and babes per minute than any other TV show. We're unapologetic about the sexiness," says Lawton. "But if handled the right way, it's not offensive to women...
...bald little man wearing sunglasses, army boots and a skull-and-crossbones T-shirt bearing the words "death before unconsciousness." His presence is not an ode to Hunter S. Thompson, nor to any passion of mine for hallucinogenic substances; instead he stands in homage to G. B. Trudeau, the creator of the political cartoon Doonesbury...
Elusive, but fascinating. The creator of such enchantingly lyrical and devastatingly sensual works as My Mother's House and Cheri was a mentor to many but a horror to her own daughter. At great risk to her reputation, she performed half-naked on the stage and had open lesbian relationships, yet believed that feminists deserved "the whip and the harem." She found her most secure love with her third husband, Maurice Goudeket, a man 17 years her junior who was a Jew, yet she was an anti-Semite and in the Nazi-occupied France of World War II displayed what...
...grandma presides over the serving area, Death must preside over the dining area. (That's his life-size picture looming down on you from the wall, dressed in black robes and wearing the face of former Harvard President Charles Eliot--Eliot was the creator of the QRR, after all). The checker's table becomes Cerberus, sternly overseeing the passage of souls (read: diners) from savory-baked life to oak-paneled afterlife. The dining hall proper is like a vast tomb where emptiness oppresses from all sides. The endless rows of uninviting conference tables (sprinkled with too-few friendly round tables...