Word: eggs
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Dates: during 1970-1979
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Consider first West Egg, swimming in sybaritic air by the sea. It is a place of grace to try description and of grossness to try belief, proclaiming its economic sources even as it tells how prettily money can be used. It is a paradise existing as a testimony to the monstrous inequities of life--the logical extension of consumption ethic America--its wealth the moral point and the reward if not the end of economic success...
...Egg Them On. A native of Newry in County Down, Lennon, 30, told the N.C.C.L. that he had been approached by two Scotland Yard detectives one day last April when he was leaving a London hospital where his wife was being treated for a brain tumor. The detectives knew about his wife's illness ("All the boys at the Yard are sympathetic," said one). They also knew that his sister Bernadette was active in politics in Newry, and showed him photos of a 1969 civil rights demonstration in Ulster during which Lennon had helped to throw metal crowd-control...
...drinking at a pub called The Foresters, where he met several Irish militants. "I was told to get in on everything they were up to," Lennon recalled. "I cannot remember the exact words [the detectives] used, but one of them said that I should egg them...
Tristana. "Sex without religion is like an egg without salt." Luis Bunuel--probably the most fanatical anti-cleric in the history of Iberian civilization--said that, with characteristic lucidity, of this his most lucid film. But it really is lucid: for once, there's no need to pardon this aging genius his obscure symbology or warped sense of humor or ideological obsessions, because Tristana is a beautifully integrated masterpiece. An aging gentleman (Fernando Rey) exploits a young and nunnish dependent (Catherine Deneuve) until she snatches the dominating role away from him, becoming perhaps the crueler tyrant. The story threads lightly...
ABOUT a hundred yards down the road, I knew Kenny only drove his motorcycle one speed. Since I had to hold on to the handgrip with one hand, that left only one hand to hold on to the eggs. There was not enough room to put the eggs completely behind Kenny, so one side stuck out into the breeze. When we reached fourth gear, the egg trays were fluttering so hard they began to make a loud roaring sound, almost like a siren. By fifth gear, I could tell the only thing making us go slower was the wind resistance...