Word: flaccid
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Dates: during 1920-1929
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...does give one lung such a rest, leaving the other to breathe for both. The surgeon sticks a hollow needle into the pleural cavity of the tubercular lung and lets some air, oxygen or nitrogen flow in. The lung collapses. He increases the pressure of the gas against the flaccid lung. This squeezes tubercular secretions out into the windpipe, like toothpaste out of a tube; and the patient expectorates. The pressure also brings healing blood to the lung, and after a time the sputum ceases to carry the germs of tuberculosis. At that time the surgeon discontinues his injections...
...report occasion much surprise. A revue which originally was far from the best of the series, as the years pass by finds its jokes becoming stale, its songs worn out, its best dances and comedians gone on to newer things. The result is prettly likely to be some such flaccid exhibition as that which is now holding forth on the Majestic stage...
...from its post such naiveties as this, friends of Judge might hotly demand? To them the thoughtful will answer: "Postmaster John Kiely [of New York City] is, like you, a friend of Judge. He well knows that there is no honest Rabelaisian lewdness in the pages of this flaccid journal; he must have been able to see that the editors were engaged in the far dirtier business of trying to make the clean appear foul. By barring the issue he has done the publisher a notable favor...
...others, including Paris Nights, So This Is Paris, Ziffles, True Confessions, obtain a certain insecure circulation by pandering to the suppressed bawdiness of soiled minds. They marshal their pornography under a variety of shams: some affecting the disguise of wit, some the imposture of art. The wit is usually flaccid filth which lacks the forthright virtues of true ribaldry; the art similar to the crude but spirited masterpieces with which anonymous Raphaels adorn the walls of railroad stations...
...into McTigue, slashed him around the ropes with rights and lefts, made small men stand up in their chairs. The next three rounds were not so fast; the fighters were listless. The bell rang for the eighth, both boxers dragged languidly into action amid a salvo of boos. More flaccid pommeling, clinching, pushing. A raucous fan began to sing Every Hour I Knead Thee, was silenced. In the last two rounds, McTigue feebly rallied. Referee Lewis gave the victory to little Walker. McTigue kept his title, as the boxing law of New Jersey does not permit an official rendering...