Word: forgetting
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...What They're Guaranteeing in Finland: Forget life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. How about the right to high-speed Internet? On Oct. 14, Finland announced plans to ensure that its 5.3 million citizens have access to a 1-megabit-per-second broadband connection by July 2010 and a 100-megabit-per-second connection by 2015. Government officials say Finland is the first nation to make broadband access a legal right...
Most of the new sources are letters and journals written by soldiers, and they yield hundreds of shockingly vivid vignettes from the beaches and trenches. You won't soon forget the account of Bill Millin, bagpiper for the 1st Special Service Brigade of the British Army, who had to march out of the surf onto Sword Beach under rifle and mortar fire playing "Highland Laddie." And Beevor focuses on things other writers have neglected. For example, he doesn't gloss over the hideous costs paid by French civilians. The Allies, before liberating them, bombed them relentlessly in an attempt...
...chaplain to whom the players and coaches can turn for religious guidance. And though some may question the appropriateness of bringing one popular American Sunday pastime - God - into a considerably more commercial and violent Sunday pastime, the chaplains believe it is precisely their mission to help reconcile the two. Forget the mysteries of the sacraments - what about the answers to these theological questions: Does God want us to lose? Does he favor the Steelers? What makes Lambeau Field sacred? Is it right to pray for first downs when people are suffering? And who caused that fumble, Jesus or Julius Peppers...
...presumably has been writing bad love poems. Here is Snow’s translation: “It’s [i]not[/i], youth, when you’re in love, even / if then your voice forces open your mouth; — // learn to forget those songs. They elapse.” Though Snow preserves much of the syntax in Rilke’s original, there seems something diluted about the lines. Somehow the causal relation between the “voice” and the “mouth” is only weakly strung together...
...that I wasn’t just a Harvard student, I pretended that I lived in Boston and did things like go to Club Passim instead of finals clubs. That between the essays and midterms and endpapers, I took advantage of the destinations listed in Boston guidebooks. Because I forget sometimes, stuck in the so-called Harvard Bubble, that I am in the midst of so much more, so much history and culture...