Word: domes
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Robbins is fed up, as well he might be, with the murderous tribalism that so often is the public face of organized religion. He sets in motion an American tel-evangelist whose septic inspiration it is to blow up the Dome of the Rock, the holy Muslim shrine in Jerusalem, thus bringing on World War III, the Second Coming of Christ and Judgment...
...column items come from? Though the particulars vary from city to city, the tricks of the trade are fairly constant. Sources must be cultivated, glamorous friends coddled, and, of course, press agents heeded as they relentlessly push tips. Certain restaurants are musts. In Los Angeles it's Le Dome or the Ivy for lunch, Morton's or Spago for dinner. In Chicago the image- conscious can be found at the Establishment-oriented Pump Room or the more hip Eccentric, partly owned by Oprah. In New York City the Russian Tea Room is best for the show-business throng, Elaine...
...wasn't looking for decapitation, no just for my Capital. Capitol? Well, however you spell it it still means that great grey domed building at the top of the Isthmus, rising above the two lakes of Madison like a gibbous moon. Atop the dome is good old Lady liberty, cast in some goldish material, pointing a languid arm over yonder East--that is, towards us and the rest of the Atlantic Coast folk, governmental and non. So I hiked up the snowy blocks of State Street, my black chair under my arm, and into the capitol...
Every year the capitol Government of the great state of Wisconsin arranges for what-is-now-known-as a Holiday Tree, which rises up from the floor into the great empty space below the dome. The tree is remarkably ugly. Not originally of course; it was clearly, when in the buff in stark Wisconsin nature, a fine pine of northern stock; but they had taken this poor tree and given it a cosmopolitan makeover which completely concealed the fact that 'twas ever a nat'ral-born tree, free and proud...
...Hancock Tower stood straight and green as ever; the State House dome floated gold as ever; the Longfellow Bridge stretched stony as ever, with the 'T' slinking red and slow as ever across its back. I simply could not escape my irrelevance: there it grinned, wherever I turned...