Word: faithless
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Thompson's doesn't just bitch on this album, though. In the two slow songs, "Love In A Faithless Country" and "Ghosts In The Wind," he almost entirely dispenses with words, preferring to convey emotion by constructing dissonant, haunting atmospheres full of tragic and pathetic echoes. Thompson is one of the few guitarists in popular music who dares to use leaps of dissonance in his soloes: often you'll here bits of the blues, Celtic folk, heavy metal, and even classical stylings woven into the same song. Sometimes, in the overextended jam. "Country", for example, this variety can lack focus...
...their 12- year-old son Shlomo Elisha, Wiesel gazes down at the bare trees in Central Park and ponders. "Frequently I ask myself, how can one bring a child into this dreadful world, where Holocaust is now preceded by the word nuclear? And then I answer: In a faithless time, what greater act of belief is there than the one of birth? And what better thing to do than prevent the greatest murder of all: the killing of time...
...seriousness of Shklar's proposition hinges on its familiarity. Stripping cruelty of religion's septimum of sinning and politics' pretension to social harmony, Shklar puts it on the reading table, in the streets: empirical and everpresent. Brutality, Shklar before Machiavelli; known to faithless and holy alike...
...Fourth Protocol, including the burrowings of the mole who tries to foil Preston, is no more stale or unbelievable than most. Freshness and credibility, in any case, are not requirements. Perhaps the reason is that Preston is without a side. Le Carré would have given him a faithless wife, or at least an ingrown toenail, to tease the mind with antiheroic irony...
...tourists with the intense thereness of stay-putters like the 19th century poet John Clare, who went mad when he had to leave the village where he was born. Blythe celebrates all nature except the open sea, which "makes us treacherous; it captures our senses and makes us faithless to the land." Poignantly recalling the turreted manors, the moats and the swans of his own East Anglia, Blythe concludes that he and Clare (along with most of the characters of Thomas Hardy and Emily Brontë) belong to a breed apart, "activated as much by weather and place...