Word: driveller
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...only thing, indeed when they are the only thing. On the threshold of such an epoch the Vagabond has arrived, Dunhill in hand. He is sick of wastin' leather on gritty pavin' stones. He is also sick of college. Above all he is sick of grinding out his daily drivel for the unmitigated pleasure of Freshmen while they wait for their questionable eggs at the Union. There is something revolting about the eternal, saccharine romance he spows forth. He is so tired of strewing roses from the CRIMSON Building to Sever 11 for English or Greek professors to tread upon...
...credit of Miss Loos, there are spotty bits of catchy dialogue and even better situation. All in all, however, the subtle lewdness fails to materialize and the promised sophistication degenerates into drivel. There is a preponderance of acidity in the play which would have been expressed only if the other telegram was sent...
...other picture on the bill, it is frank and undisguised drivel. The only exciting part is a prolonged scene in which the wife, Helen Twelvetrees, attempts to inform her husband that she is going to have a child. She discourses at length on the beauties of the park, looks ethereal and at last departs in high dudgeon because hubby just will not take the hint. At last by dint of rubbing his nose in some yarn, and announcing that his wife is going to ******, an Irish wardrobe mistress gets across the idea. All goes to show the blushing naivete...
Says he: Publishers Simon & Schuster have most successfully developed the art of "panicking" the public into buying their books-books often intrinsically worthless. Says Critic Notch: "Anyone who reads Trader Horn at a distance of years sees it for what it is: senile drivel touched up with loving skill by a third-rate novelist." Notch attacks the Book Clubs: "The intellectual appeal of the Book Clubs is simple, frank-and dishonest. . . . Here [in having well-known critics select the books] is a calculated misunderstanding of the critic's function: which is to produce good literature...
...that literary gem. I was born and brocht up ("raised" we say oot here) among the Ayrshire yokels, an' I dinna min' seein' them gap much, except when they might be tryin' tae read a newsmagazine as dull as TIME. No that ony siccan drivel was produced in Ayrshire, but there bein' nae censorship on dullness, some yawn-provokers frae the ootside at times got on tae the newsstaunds, an' were whyles bocht by chaps that werena "on" tae their contents...