Word: fates
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Most believe that on Nov. 3, the winner of Election 2004—what many have dubbed the most important election of our lifetime—will seal the fate of the United States. But it seems the world will have to wait. Rather, it should be assumed that Thanksgiving dinner discussion will be dominated by current debate; that is, who will be the President of the United States for the next four years. Perhaps, if we’re lucky, we can move on to speculations of Cabinet appointment during winter break; but even this is overly optimistic...
...dire state of affairs. I began to feel a twinge of delight about his re-election as I began to think about the possible re-election of George W. Bush on Nov. 2. It’s not out of spite that I wish the same insufferable fate upon the U.S.; rather, it occurred to me that the only possibility of ending this lengthy stretch of neo-conservatism might be to continue to endure...
...Leaders in Beijing want to avoid the fate of other oil-poor countries like South Korea, which buys all of its crude on the open market and is therefore exposed to sharp price rises. The way to do that is to invest in exploration and development in countries that have oil fields but lack the capital or technology to exploit them. Once Chinese companies have a stake in oil coming out of the ground, even if it originates abroad, they'll have secured long-term supplies independent of the world's fickle prices. The process of overseas exploration began...
...this approach," says the report. Saddam privately told an aide the "better part of war was deceiving," but ironically he was telling the West the truth. In the end, his big bluff destroyed him--and drew the U.S. into an engagement that will help determine George W. Bush's fate at the polls next month. --With reporting by Timothy J. Burger and Elaine Shannon/Washington
...conversation clearly wasn’t going anywhere fast. I edged away toward another sculpture. As fate would have it, this happened to be “Head Body Limbs,” a 1967 piece by Franz Erhard Walther made up of a large rectangular piece of cream-colored canvas with its two back corners hooked into the wall and the rest of the cloth piled in an untidy heap on the floor. The label said this was another piece I could touch, and I tried to determine what I was supposed to do with it. Only this...