Word: dronings
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...happy? Because finally, finally, finally, he's no longer number two. Imagine being a respectable, monogamous, married gentleman from a well-established southern family. Now imagine spending eight years as the subordinate to a randy Arkansas governor. Finally, Al Gore is no longer identified as the President's drone, I mean, clone. Clinton...
...featuring movie-industry data and showcasing new talent. But the part of the site that has everyone talking is "The Buzz," an anonymous chat section restricted by password to industry insiders. In "Executive Shuffle," studio brass dish on who's up and who's down. "Assistant Central" is a drone's-eye view of life in Tinseltown...
...would have had to wear bifocals. But the stock market, like sex, is no longer just adult fare. The Internet pumps quotes, research and trading capability right into Jason's bedroom in Riverdale, N.Y. Nearly half of all households nationwide own stock, up 85% since 1983, and dinner-table drone about performance falls on little ears as well as big. With such incentives, grade-schoolers leap naturally from this-little-piggie-went-to-market to this-little-kiddie-plays-the-market. "This has become a national pastime," says Yale Hirsch, a stock-market historian and publisher of Stock Trader...
...suppose that the only hope for labor unions in this news - the beginning of the realization of science fiction nightmares hypothesized for years - is that eventually drone robots, in a future robot civilization, will teach themselves to sing, "I dreamed I saw Joe Hill last night,/alive as you and me," and will walk out of the robot factories, pumping molybdenum fists in the air and striking to demand ... to demand.... What is it we want, fellas? Better pay? More frequent lubrication? The wily programmers will have eliminated all troublesome human urgencies from the worker 'bots. It will not occur...
...time to turn off the machines when we come to nature. In summer small planes drone and snarl overhead. Helicopters clatter by from time to time--the newly rich ostentatiously commuting to their indulgences, their cash turned into blighting noise. This market has released too much money into the atmosphere in the form of private planes and onto the lakes and rivers as roostering speedboats and their juvenile-delinquent offspring, Jet Skis, which have the charm of chain saws. Loud, alien metal has colonized...