Word: fax
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Dates: during 2000-2009
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...only place that’s hopping here is the computer cubicles—all three are occupied. These study cubes are a cut above the wooden chair and desk set that comes with an undergrad room. Fax machines, iMacs and sleek silver chairs exemplify the center’s melding of science, design and overworked grad students. Though the lounge may be dead on weekday afternoons, the place becomes popular around 5 or 6 p.m., reports first-year graduate student Michael Fuerstman, who is studying physical chemistry. Fuerstman says he hits the center at least once...
When the phone lines are up again, Arafat need not wonder about their being bugged--Israeli agents have been listening in for years. Israeli intelligence officials tell TIME they have had access to almost every phone call, fax or e-mail that has gone out of Arafat's West Bank headquarters, located in a military compound called the Muqata'a in Ramallah, where he has been a virtual prisoner since December. They also claim to have human intelligence, "moles," working the inside...
Israeli security sources say the phone and fax surveillance has supplied evidence that Arafat bankrolled groups that are part of his Fatah organization though he knew they would carry out terror attacks. But the spying came up critically short in preventing attacks, because Arafat was never told precise details of any operation, say the sources...
...recently requested something from one such famous person. Famous in the Oscar-nominated sense of the word. As is customary with such requests, I put it in writing and faxed the letter through to the famous person's agent, who then passed it on to the publicist, who passed it on to the famous person, who usually takes a pass and the publicist passes that pass on to me. (I may have the actual order of the Chinese whispers back to front here, but you get the picture.) I submitted to this process even though I saw said famous person...
...know the rest. The next day I saw the famous person. I asked about the fax. My acquaintance had no knowledge of it and was sort of interested in my proposal. The feeling was familiar. The publicist's lie was so breathtakingly primitive and easily disproved. And since I had pointedly said that I would see the famous person soon at such-and-such a place in my fax, it was even more easily exposed than the untruths my son so clumsily perpetrates...