Word: exhibitionist
(lookup in dictionary)
(lookup stats)
Dates: during 1940-1949
Sort By: most recent first
(reverse)
...Cleveland, there was a wake. After 113 days of squatting on a platform above his confectionery store "until the Indians got back in first place," Exhibitionist Charley Lupica (TIME, Aug. 19) was invited down last week by Bill Veeck, exhibitionist president of the Cleveland baseball club. In the mathematics of the 1949 pennant race, the Indians, World Series winners a year ago, were dead. To mourn the sad occasion, Veeck, crowned with a silk hat but still without a tie (he never wears one), drove a horse-drawn hearse into Municipal Stadium with all the Indians trailing along as pallbearers...
Actually, there were two Millers: one was a foul-mouthed exhibitionist who admitted his reputation for using "obscene language more freely and abundantly than any other living writer in the English language"; the other was an exuberant writer with a gift for describing the vividly seamy...
...mayor of New York he is almost the antithesis of the man he succeeded. La Guardia, the imaginative, tireless, dictatorial little crusader, was also a spiteful petulant exhibitionist with a passion for speeding through the city in police cars and making faces at cameramen. At 57, Bill O'Dwyer is a calm, controlled and sentimental man; when his temper rises he talks bluntly and profanely, but softly and with a cop's cold and quiet...
...meadows of Graves's obscurity are hedged round with a thorny but exhibitionist defense. He masks his face with bangs and a beard, and wears expensive grey flannel suits under an overcoat shabby enough for the radiator of a farmer's jalopy. To celebrate Christmas, Graves once gilded his beard and eyebrows, and he has been known to leave his shoes on the escalator of a Seattle department store while he himself took the elevator. He likes to talk a mystic mumbo-jumbo that leaves his admirers in open-mouthed confusion...
Some never-say-die spearheaders continue to bore the air along their accustomed lines-and with unhappy results. Two pages of Henry Miller's exhibitionist prose, a dozen lines of Kenneth Patchen's apocalyptic "self-expression" verse are all a reader needs to know forever the school of professional literary bohemianism. The shrill, barren exercises in surrealist freewheeling, the turgid moralizing of those poets who have retired to philosophical hermitages, and the vulgarity of the psychoanarchists-all these are dead letters...