Word: doggedly
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Dates: during 1990-1999
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...Grant Boyette, now 19. "Grant said he knew I had been hurt by Christina, and he said there was a way to get revenge," Luke told a psychologist. "He said Satan was the way." He said Boyette introduced him to Hitler and Nietzsche, beat and burned his pet dog and eventually led him to a Satanic group believed to be called the Kroth (initially named the Fourth Reich). The Kroth played an interactive game called Star Wars--sort of Dungeons and Dragons on drugs--that involved loaded guns and threats to blow up the school...
Somewhere in the recesses of director Betty Thomas' slow, vacant farce is a sweet fable about a misfit father and daughter. But parents who think this Doctor Dolittle is for children should be prepared for gags about butt sniffing, dog whizzing, pigeon poop and rodent proctology. Of course, the kids won't be shocked. They're primed to love this stuff. After all, they've been raised on bad attitude...
Rumor: Giuliani hates pedestrians, taxi drivers, hot-dog vendors, squeegee men, people on welfare, reporters, anyone opposing any of his proposals at any time, and doesn't even get along well with his own wife. Fact: The mayor does not hate these people. The mayor is a temperate man of philosophical disposition. He simply recognizes that those particular individuals tend toward rudeness and thus need to be treated firmly. They must be given rules, and when they break the rules they must be punished. What could be fairer than that? As His Honor has so profoundly said, "Freedom is about...
...city attempting to infiltrate the deliberately darkened access tunnel. Fact: The mayor has sensibly proposed building an emergency control center for merely $15 million in the World Trade Center. Should any danger--be it a raid by crazed fundamentalist bioterrorists, a stock-market crash or a strike of rollerblading dog walkers--threaten New York, the mayor would inch through traffic, clamber up 22 flights of steps (can't trust elevators in a crisis--they might be booby-trapped!), pausing only to sign autographs for tourists, and soon be in command of all municipal defense forces as well as a secure...
...time to retire my old and trusty Macintosh. Blubbering like a boy about to put the family dog to sleep, I lugged the thing into my daughters' room and said goodbye. "You're going to be happier here, feller," I snuffled, patting it on the monitor. And then I remembered: thousands of my e-mail messages were on that machine! My kids might inadvertently delete them, or worse, read them! A quick check determined that my private correspondence weighed in at 80 megabytes. The usual high-density floppy discs, standard 1.44-MB diskettes, were useless--it would take...