Word: fingers
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Dates: during 1990-1999
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Moore consistently reaffirmed his allegiance to the middle-class majority. Though his audience was supportive to the point of adulation, supplying ends for his sentences every time Moore paused, he did not hesitate to point a finger at what he saw as "Kumbaya"-singing intellectuals who spent all their time in meetings. "Aren't you tired of the left-wing circle jerk?" he demanded, insisting on the importance of intellectual liberals consolidating with working-class groups. "The working class knows that you feel superior to them," he admonished, and prescribed a diet of mainstream movies, TV, and country music...
QUOTE OF NOTE: (To a radio host) "I've got more morality than you've ever thought of. More morality probably in my little finger than you've got in your whole body...
Like birds, which evolved independently 70 million years later, pterosaurs had bones that were hollow and lightweight. (One scientist refers to pterosaur skeletons as "Styrofoam and mailing tubes.") But of all the trademarks of a pterosaur, one of the most peculiar was its hand, which boasted three clawlike fingers of normal size and a fourth digit that was outlandishly long. It was this fourth finger that provided structural support for the wings. Made of a skin-like membrane, the wings were supported by thousands of microscopic fibers that acted rather like the ribs of a folding umbrella, creating a flexible...
...dysfunction that currently prevails inside the Dole campaign explains why, within hours of the debate, the finger pointing was well under way. Dole's campaign manager, Scott Reed, who once served as a top Kemp aide, put out the word that he was so disappointed with Kemp's lack of fight that he refused to speak with his former boss after the debate. He was particularly upset that Kemp failed to use several scripted zingers. For instance, at some point when Gore cited arcana from Kemp's record, Kemp was supposed to ask, "Say, Al, did you get that...
...alive again, and eager to see Grrrl die. She has been abusing you for a while now; last time she blew you away with a fusillade from her nail gun. And as you glide along the blue gray corridors of this ghostly computer-generated world, finger itchy at the trigger, it's Grrrl you're after. The fact that in real life Grrrl is a pretty twentysomething who rudely shooed you out of her office just before the game started has nothing to do with it, you tell yourself. This is war--or its virtual equivalent...