Word: deaded
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...steps into the sea, bent with grief that is all the more wrenching because she stands in an ever-shifting body of water rather than on solid ground. But the gods feel pity. They return the body of her dead husband to his home shore, and then, miraculously, transform the lovers into sea birds. This transformation is visually realized through a series of highly stylized movements that I don’t think would work on dry land. In the water, however, it’s a wondrous scene...
...much better than the first time I saw Rowling, last summer at Radio City Music Hall for a reading. Back then, in between the sixth and seventh books, she found it very hard to say anything (though her big declaration was also about Dumbledore - that he was definitely dead). The half-answers and stalling were frustrating, albeit necessary, and she clearly felt confined by it. Her new freedom to talk about whatever she liked added an entirely different dimension to the evening, and to the series. As fans spilled out into the night, taking pictures with their newly signed books...
After Washington and Brown jumped out to an early lead, Harvard pulled even with the Bears and battled with the Huskies for the middle 1,000 meters. With only 500 meters left, Stanford made a move to draw even with the Crimson, and the two boats finished in a dead heat for second. Washington crossed the finish line less than a second ahead of both crews to snag its first title since...
...song’s unnamed “you.” The arrangement is classic Modest Mouse, weaving an inexplicably entrancing melody out of synthesizer, keyboard, guitar, and muted percussion lines. The abrupt revelation of the video leaves the viewer confused—is the child dead or alive? More importantly, do we even care? For much of “Little Motel,” Brock croons, “That’s what I’m waiting for.” Oh, Modest Mouse. If you’re going to travel back in time...
...contingent because they are forsaking the universal, but rather because they believe the contingent is the only true portal into the universal. They believe that the one humdrum Dublin day in the life of a middle-aged, Jewish cuckold who defecates, masturbates, feeds animals, attends a funeral, remembers his dead son, and kisses the ass of his adulterous wife can speak not just to one perverse character’s experience but to the experience of humanity as a whole, across all time and nationality...