Word: doubloon
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...Lara Croft knockoff, that’s the digital version of the cheerleader that broke Mr. Dibbell’s heart in 10th grade. Unfortunately for the author, while his precious “digital l00t” may in fact have real market value, all the gold doubloon clipart in the world can’t fix his social deficiencies or bad breath. On the plus side, a book about fake ambitions, repressed fantasies and the inability to function in the real world probably will sell great over at MIT. The Cult of iPod by Leander Kahney I felt...
...drove a $600 used Mercury. He has made millions from finds smaller than the Atocha, some of them wrecks of its sister ship, but he has spent millions looking for the Atocha. Now he wears an estimated $12,000 worth of gold around his neck, including a Spanish doubloon, and he drives a Cadillac...
When Captain Ahab, in his relentless pursuit of Moby Dick, had a doubloon nailed to the mast of the Pequod, each member of his crew saw reflected in it a different meaning. So too was it with the findings that Starr nailed to our consciousness this year, and so too was it with Starr himself and Clinton himself. Decades hence, we will still be debating the meaning of the great Clinton-Starr struggle and picking at the lingering wounds. But I hope this issue of TIME can further the process of putting both the personal qualities of these...
...entire nation teetering in its aftermaths. These include pregnancy, mutual guilt, Tony's frightened vision of what marriage to his teacher might mean ("Would I be allowed to whisper and chew gum in the house?"). Before she goes home to bear his child in Kalamazoo, Miss Doubloon strikes a defiant pose on the balcony of her motel, where she has been exiled in disgrace from the boardinghouse. Like Hawthorne's adulterous heroine, the teacher wears a scarlet letter A on her chest, with one modern addition: a plus sign on the right side. A badge of shame becomes...
Tony is not halfway to the end of his adventures when he follows Miss Doubloon to her home town. Absurdities interrupt non sequiturs. Plot grows so complicated that it seems easier to tell than summarize. But De Vries is only half kidding. The fine cutting edge of his comic vision comes, as always, from the sense that there is hell to pay. The author, a resident staffer at The New Yorker, was raised a Dutch Calvinist, and he is a past master at striking antithetical poses. He is at once the liberal humanist, tolerantly condoning free expression and yearnings...