Word: eyeing
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Dates: during 1940-1949
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Political Bull's-Eye. The exhausted, sweating convention delegates had known and got almost exactly what they wanted. The real battle was never over issues. The Republican Party from the outset wanted someone like Arthur Vandenberg or Harold Stassen or Tom Dewey-all men who believed that the U.S. must accept its leadership in the world. The nomination of Tom Dewey conclusively routed the corporal's guard of Republican isolationists. They had rallied behind Robert Taft. even though he himself said that "isolationism" was a dead issue...
...nomination of Earl Warren was a political bull's-eye. He gave the ticket a psychological lift; he would unquestionably attract millions of "independent voters." Democrats had hoped to make hay out of Republican failure to push through reclamation projects in the West. But it would be futile to play that game against Republican Earl Warren, one of the foremost spokesmen of the eager-beaver West...
Last week the strategic, oil-rich realm of the Shah of Shahs, 29-year-old Mohamed Reza Pahlevi, had no government. The cabinet of deaf* old Ibrahim Hakimi had fallen two weeks before. Abdul Hussein Hajir (who has one glass eye) was named to succeed him. But last week a Teheran mob kept the Majlis from meeting to approve Hajir's cabinet. Said one English-speaking Persian politician: "There's an old proverb that 'a year can be judged by its spring.' Well, it looks as though there's going to be an early fall...
Manhattan's Museum of Modern Art, the No. 1 U.S. showroom of contemporary painting, attracts 550,000 paying customers a year. There, pictures and public eye each other uneasily, in an air-conditioned atmosphere of mutual distrust. To arbitrate the silent battle of wills that usually ensues, the museum employs three well-primed guides whom it calls docents (rhymes with no sense). The docents talk and talk-a bit nervously...
...cavernous castle, creates a kind of continuum of time and space. Such castles were almost as naked of furniture as the Elizabethan stage; Olivier uses both facts to the film's advantage. Not even the costumes are distracting; they are close to the simplest mind's-eye image: a King & Queen like playing cards; Hamlet in black & white, with a princely silver chain; Ophelia, a flowering draught of white. The production is as austere, and as grimly concentrated, as Henry V was profuse and ingratiating. Only the wild, heartfelt, munificent language is left at liberty...