Word: dumbness
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...Sandra, brandishing all the cash she supposedly has, hopes to fast-talk an old lady into a cheap sale...and gets directed to an ATM down the street. We break through to this bit character, one of those extras who are usually just like us, or at least as dumb, and what do we get...but more of the same...
...what counts as a confession. Women can be Janet Reno or Monica Lewinsky (for argument s sake, we ll say she s pretty). Everyone understands the concept of not pretty equals intelligent equals better than men, while pretty equals dumb equals slave to men. We categorize women into butch or airhead, prude or slut, dim-wit or smartadivisions with little gradation in between. Men, on the other hand, have the liberty of wearing pretty much anything and still having their intelligence and ability determined byasurprise!atheir intelligence and ability. The unfair smart-or-dumb distinction for women looks like...
...directorial career, maybe this is a quirky suicide note. For the actors, it's no big whoop. Young stars need to be in at least one dumb ugly movie like this one. Next year it'll make a cute-embarrassing story to tell Jay Leno...
...like this," says Georgia Governor Roy Barnes, a "smart growth" Democrat who was elected last year. Barnes has proposed a regional transportation authority that can block local plans for the new roads that encourage development. But dumb growth is not confined to Atlanta. Half a century after America loaded the car and fled to the suburbs, these boundless, slapdash places are making people want to flee once more. "All of a sudden, they're playing leapfrog with a bulldozer," says Al Gore, who wants to be the antisprawl candidate...
...always been a greeting-card snob. My rules: No dumb jokes, no trite sayings and definitely no electronic greeting cards. As far as I was concerned, only a cheapskate would send an electronic greeting instead of the real deal, signed in ink and sealed with a kiss. So I was more than a little skeptical on my birthday when I came across a message in my e-mail In box titled "Celebrate--From Martin." But when I clicked on the message and followed its instructions to copy a Web address into my browser, my cynicism melted. There, bursting onscreen...