Word: dimly
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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...acid bath left Riesel in a dim world of shadows. The unimpaired retinas of both eyes receive vague images, projected through scar tissue as through frosted glass. Both lenses are gone. He can detect violent movements, distinguish a truck from a car. But to tell time he must feel the hands of his watch; when he is dining at the Men's Bar in the Biltmore, a favorite haunt, friends must help him find the hamburger on his plate -and sometimes even the plate...
Unwelcome Brass. With all its size and success, the peacetime Stars and Stripes is only a dim reflection of its violent and lustrous past. First published intermittently by Union troops during the Civil War, it was revived for the American Expeditionary Force during World War I, became a little-censored, undisciplined and often brilliant weekly with enlisted and commissioned giants on its staff-among them, Private Harold Ross (who went on to found The New Yorker), Sergeant Alexander Woollcott, Lieut. Grantland Rice and Captain Franklin P. Adams...
...clock in Seoul's dim, drafty railroad station showed 10:55 p.m. last week as some 3,800 holiday travelers waited restlessly for the last train to Mokpo in southwest Korea. The train was already five minutes late because the railroad, under the press of crowds leaving Seoul for the Lunar New Year celebrations, had sold 2,300 more tickets than the 18-coach train could carry. At that moment on Track 3 underneath the waiting room, the engineer of the Mokpo train blew a long whistle blast to signal switch crews to add more coaches...
...drilling rig and its surrounding shacks lay dim in the dawnlike light of Arctic high noon one day last week. Suddenly the direct rays of the sun, unseen for more than a month, spilled over the bleak horizon and splashed against the top of the 127-ft. derrick. Getting a nod of assent from the driller, Eskimo Roughneck Elijah Allen, 22, darted to the derrick ladder and scampered up the frosted rungs. As he neared the top, he turned his happy moonface into the thin yellow light and yelled a piercing greeting...
...that Putt My Daisy is an attempt at spontaneous movie making and does not pretend to be anything else. You attempt to compare it to a home movie because the narrator speaks for the characters; yet even your obvious attempt to make Kerouac's prose seem humorous cannot dim its haunting poetic quality...