Word: cynically
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Dates: during 1970-1979
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...written by many of the same people who brought you Not The New York Times--is an ideal excuse to put of writing your Gov paper, to relax with when it's too gauche to drink beer and watch football with your undershirt on, junk food for the intellectual cynic. If read slowly, selectively, this compendium of facetiae should beat just about any conceivable true-to-life rehashes of the grey cripple of a decade that will limp (or roll) off to oblivion in just one more month...
...shape this tale as a mixture of myth, documentation and fantasy, but he never gets past the ABCs in any category. Edward James Olmos is electrifying as the embodiment of the mythic hero known as El Pachuco, but the script short-circuits him, and he is reduced to cynic snarls and stylized struts. Daniel Valdez is winning as a gang leader with unstained valor. He is stalemated in a TV-style love triangle between his loyal Chicano girlfriend (Rose Portillo) and a Jewish minority-rights defender (Karen Hensel) of inflammable zeal...
Even in an age that has witnessed everything from the harnessing of the atom to flights across the solar system, the thought of matter going down a kind of cosmic drain stretches the mind. It is totally at odds with common sense and, a cynic might say, smacks slightly of selfdelusion, if not madness. After all, the frightful Heffalump turned out to be only Pooh with his head stuck in a jar of honey...
...born cynic, I never actually believed in Santa Claus, of course. There were just too many fat, cheery elves in stores and street corners for me to buy the notion that a single Santa ran the whole show. It wasn't until I got to Harvard that my roommates, fools that they were, were convinced by their parents that this red-suited troupe was only a paunch subalterns for the real thing, and that the head honcho would make his annual appearance down the chimney on Christmas Eve. (I also never believed than an amazingly fat man could squeen down...
...annual drive down Park Ave. and up Madison Ave. came not from the outdoor Christmas trees (you've seen one evergreen, you've seen them all) nor in the Santas on every street-corner, but in seeing how many blocks we could make on one light. Once a cynic, always a cynic...