Word: flushed
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Dates: during 1970-1979
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...bitter denunciations of white civilization as decadent and evil, LeRoi Jones cannot quite flush it from his system. It is as much a part of this 36-year-old black writer as having been the son of a Newark, N.J., postal worker, a graduate of Howard University, an East Village intellectual with a Tyrolean hat and a white wife, and a gifted poet-playwright who was cheered until white liberals decided that white guilt was a form of masochism...
...best of these are chosen to stay on to work the handful of lucrative details that oil the relentless flow of events that comprises the Reunion. The "best" are, of course, chosen by the crew captains who supervise the work effort, and the promised tips of financially flush alumni are the oft-mentioned carrots that gets everyone on the stick...
...example, sells for $2,091 (including federal excise tax and dealer preparation charges) and a Pinto for $1,944, v. $1,899 for the basic Volkswagen. The subcompacts, though, are small and cheap enough to attract many motorists who might buy bigger U.S.-made cars if they felt more flush, but whose desire for economy has been sharpened by the bite of the 1970 recession and continuing inflation. A G.M. poll of early Vega buyers disclosed that 30% would have turned to a larger and more expensive G.M. car if the Vega had not been available...
This week it was the Advocate that changed. The January issue, printed on S.D. Warren's Lustro Offset Enamel Glo 70 pound stock paper, was planned, and is guaranteed, to cut up any tutor's rump. But hopefully, your tutor and you will read it before you flush it. To incite you, the Advocate now offers provocative visual and psychic stimulation-prose, poetry, drawings and photographs from within Harvard. The Advocate 's new layout and design format was introduced to bring readers some pleasure and to attract writers to submit their work and publish in the next issue, in April...
...crisis" and churches in terms of "embattled," the Salvation Army seems as foursquare and unchanging as the crisp Victorian bonnets still worn by its ladies. It is almost as if Norman Rockwell had painted the scenes on the mind. Bright-smiling women, their cheeks pinked only with the flush of zeal, ladling out free dinners in a Skid Row mission. Clear-eyed men in high military collars, tootling on flügelhorns and euphoniums on chilly street corners. A brisk song, a quaint sermon. A bunk for the stumbling drunk. Even that perennial embarrassment, an outstretched tambourine and a copy...