Word: dodo
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...your teacher loaded you and your classmates on a schoolbus for a field trip to the Museum of Natural History. You all gathered around some billion-year-old fossil or stood dwarfed beneath a terrifying representation of a brontosaurus, or marvelled at a taxidermist's conception of an extinct dodo bird perched in an artist's conception of its natural habitat while your teacher recited something about the Jurassic Period. And you trotted from exhibit to exhibit, awed and thrilled by them...
...accomplish in eons, humanity can undo in millenniums, and that is exactly what the species Homo sapiens has done on Mauritius. By his own actions-and those of the animals he has introduced-man has already done away away the flightless black parrot, the giant Mauritian tortoise and the dodo, the huge bird whose very name has become synonymous with extinction. Now civilization threatens the rest of this island nation's rare birds and mammals...
...Queen's music, than I do for the sight of a drooling Fay-Wray-hypnotised Kong. Give me Bad Company any day. But to get back to the unfortunately surnamed Mr. Bangs' image, I guess we're supposed to believe that somehow heavy metal has become deader than any dodo, or at least lost its teeth, claws and selfish-gene nastiness and become a lumbering, well-meaning vegetable-eater with about as much magnetism as those scurrying, tree-climbing ancestors of ours busily devouring leaves and trying not to be devoured by beasts of the jungle. Brontosaurus indeed. Junk...
...springs have certainly dwindled. Fifty years ago, the appearance on the auction block of a sheet by one of the great father figures of 15th and 16th century drawing-Dürer, Raphael, Michelangelo, Leonardo-was not uncommon. Today one would hardly be more surprised if a live dodo waddled into the Parke-Bernet auction room. Drawings also are not a young man's hobby; they demand a degree of patient connoisseurship (tinged with philatelic mania) that only the old usually have. But late last month a remarkable disproof of the rule went on show at Manhattan...
When producers do get around to turning out something like Throat, they promise to add Gallic subtlety to what they think is crude American formula. The radicals used to complain that French life was a dull blend of "Métro, Boulot and Dodo"-subway, work and sleep. Now, says the satirical weekly Le Canard Enchalne, the slogan is "Métro, Boulot, Dodo et Porno...