Word: engulfs
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...scientist last week dispelled fears that a new Ice Age is about to engulf the world. Some climatologists had predicted that the Arctic pack ice would some day unfreeze. However,after examining sediment thought to be 4,000,000 years old at latitude 80° N., longitude 158°W., the University of Wisconsin's David Clark confidently predicted that no pack ice will chill Key Biscayne very soon. It was one of the few pieces of unequivocally good news heard lately, and it recalled Thornton Wilder's The Skin of Our Teeth, which described...
...story, frequently through quotations from Erne's outraged letters to her mother, British Biographer Mary Lutyens goes beyond mere sex, or the lack of it, to the daily arena of a marriage gone irretrievably bad. She examines relentlessly the small social grievances, the resentful pinprick rivalries that gradually engulf and demean everyone concerned. In the orgiastic 1960s, Ruskin's sexual abstinence would be regarded for Effie as a fate only slightly better than death. Effie lived in an age inclined to view "all that" more as a duty than a cheerful privilege, however, and she knew little...
...difficult to argue that it should not be so widespread without feeling that somehow you are being dishonest. After all, the Arab threat is real, both within and outside the country. But if the threat is a fact of life, must it engulf you wherever you go in the country? Must it dominate the silver screen, walk in the streets with you, and be dropped on the beaches of Tel Aviv? Won't a people fight for and believe in their country without this...
Prophet Marshall McLuhan has just invaded what he calls the "hot" medium of printed journalism. As he sees it, people are so absorbed with old-fashioned words that they don't even notice the tidal wave of change about to engulf them. To help them "survive," he says, he is putting out a monthly newsletter called The McLuhan Dew-Line. It is intended to "raise a mighty scream" to warn readers of the imminent electronics takeover...
...repertoire, writes in a monotone that is no more varied than his fixed point of view. Cleverness ("She breathed on him (though a young lady should not eat, because of the known redolence of onions, onions) onions."), hyperbole ("his insides, like spoilt cats demanding milk as lava begins to engulf the town and the cats with it, complained and switched on a kind of small avant garde chamber piece for muted brass") and poetry ("Out in the gull-clawed air, New Year blue, the tide crawling creamily in, Enderby felt better.") become a tedious camouflage instead of a clear glass...