Word: flips
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Dates: during 1990-1999
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...Robbins answers that question with a song. As writer, director and star of the hilarious mock-documentary Bob Roberts, Robbins argues that '90s anomie is the flip side of '60s idealism -- the perky music, so to speak, without the hammer-of-justice lyrics. The perfect candidate for this era of moral confusion would be a millionaire folk singer, a charismatic opportunist who can twist Woody Guthrie into Pat Buchanan by warbling, "This land was made...
...buzzing sound is like a neon sign in front of a singles bar. She makes a beeline -- all right, a mosquitoline -- straight into the swarm. Once she's inside, the sound of her wings, beating 250 to 500 times a second, becomes the mosquito equivalent of a flirty hair flip. The males frantically elbow each other to get at her, and within seconds one of them scores. The pair, copulating in midair, float down in crazy circles, coming briefly to rest in a tangle of legs and antennae. Who cares if that hum might later cost them their lives...
...easy career. His first novel, The Object of My Affection (1987), won critical and popular esteem that only a tiny percentage of fiction -- first or otherwise -- ever attracts. He grew up in Woburn, a Boston suburb, the middle of three brothers. After the University of Vermont, he says, "I flip-flopped along," teaching, working at a Cambridge travel agency that was "full of wonderful, slow, late-'70s atmosphere...
...empty-headed, suggestible black kids, crouching by their boom boxes, waiting for the word. But what Ice- T's fans know and his detractors obviously don't is that Cop Killer is just one more entry in pop music's long history of macho hyperbole and violent boast. Flip to the classic-rock station, and you might catch the Rolling Stones announcing "the time is right for violent revo-loo-shun!" from their 1968 hit Street Fighting Man. And where were the defenders of our law- ( enforcement officers when a white British group, the Clash, taunted its fans with...
...went to bed that night in completed shock. I felt mentally assaulted by my own popular culture. How sad that the networks can count on us to be in our living rooms at night, ready to flip through channels of TV programming that will leave us feeling like we need to take a shower. We, need to take a shower. We, the jelly-brained viewers, aren't the only victims, either. Think of the Jennys, Susies, and Lisas. Think of the King...