Word: disdain
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...audience feels too much disgust to get riled up about HMO policies. The black humor itself isn't a bad idea; it is often a key and telling element of good satire. But Lumet has shot himself in the foot by making the humor too universal--if you show disdain for doctors, patients, bereaved family members, athiests, the strongly religious, HMOs and insurance companies, there isn't really anyone left to like...
Gumbel does not believe in pursuing guests hotly either. He refers, with a touch of disdain, to the moment in 1995 when journalists were competing for an on-air interview with Michael Jackson and Lisa Marie Presley. "Diane, Oprah, Barbara, Stone all struggled for that interview," Gumbel notes. "When one of them lands it, to what extent has his or her capacity to possibly engender the person's anger been compromised? By agreeing to be on, that person has in a sense granted the reporter a favor." He continues, "Will I make a phone call [to help secure a guest...
Well, television is not the evil destroyer of all that is right in this world. In fact, and we say this with all the disdain we can muster for the elitists who purport otherwise--TV is good. --from an ABC ad for the new season...
...particular. "For years, the pundits, moralists, and self-righteous, self-appointed preservers of our culture have told us that television is bad.... Well, television is not the evil destroyer of all that is right in this world. In fact, and we say with all the disdain we can muster for the elitists who purport otherwise--TV is good." The essay reaches its own peak of self-righteousness when it points out that TV "makes us laugh" and "makes us cry" and asks, "Can any other medium match TV for its immediacy, its impact, its capacity to entertain?" But this argument...
More often than not, Husband is winning the argument, if we are to believe the sales figures. Bring together a group of professional men, and the disdain--the unmitigated contempt--for the minivan is palpable. But the minivan is so obviously inoffensive, and so clearly practical, that the contempt must be rooted in something deeper than mere taste. Part of it is the timeless lure of male fantasy. There were days when I myself refused to leave the house without my chaps, my six-gun and my ten-gallon hat. Or rather, my two-gallon hat. I was six years...