Word: fogs
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Dates: during 1980-1989
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These sensationalized aspects of the Tower battle are riveting, but they distract from far more universal questions about the conduct of public officials. The reason ethics in Government seems so tiresome is that the goal has become obscured in a legalistic fog of disclosure requirements, recusations and blind trusts. Lost in the mist are commonsense standards for integrity in Government like these...
...refurbishing moth-eaten plots. The four novellas in The End of Tragedy all begin with premises that are numbingly familiar and wind up in ways that seem utterly new and unpredictable. Friends in the Country sends a couple out to a dinner party and deposits them in a sudden fog at what is almost certainly the wrong house, an isolated, spooky Victorian monstrosity; from then on, the mystery evolves into deciding who is crazier, the hosts or the uninvited guests. In the Act is a wickedly funny send-up of android sci-fi, featuring a voluptuous male-fantasy robot (named...
Whiteness: the perfect whiteness of an enveloping fog. Muted sounds: voices, the creak of sails and rigging. Very slowly, the outlines of a 19th century sailing ship begin to take shape through the brume. The great image that opens Pelle the Conqueror turns out to be a perfect emblem for the long, entirely absorbing work that unfolds: very simple yet powerfully, mysteriously absorbing...
...General ((Robert E.)) Lee was great at recovering from his mistakes. The intriguing thing about war is how many mistakes are made. My conclusion from military history is that successful generals are wrong 95% of the time. For unsuccessful generals, it's 99%. In the fog of war, there's so much uncertainty. I am a strong admirer of Kemal Ataturk, because he achieved so much with so little. It's one thing for generals to win when they are backed by tremendous resources and production capability. But Ataturk with few resources wrested control of Turkey from the sultans...
From a bank of fog loitering along the shore of the Gulf of Mexico, the waves emerge silently, advancing slowly and uniformly, like long thin lines of infantry, on the mouth of the Rio Grande. The river, exhausted after its tortuous odyssey along more than half of the 2,076-mile U.S.-Mexican border, offers little resistance to this serried assault. Its tired brown water backs up and bivouacs in a lagoon near a white lighthouse, and from there it slips, as stealthily as a camp deserter, into the Gulf...