Word: forgotten
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Amid all the cursing and complaining, there's an unexpected benefit for the U.S. military: the proliferating investigations into the killing of civilians by American troops are being forgotten. In our previous meeting two months ago, the insurgent leader had been cursing the Marines accused in the massacre of innocent civilians in Haditha. Since then, the accumulation of atrocities by Iraq's militias has altered his perspective. "Haditha was nothing compared to what the militias are doing," he says...
...first time in years, it pays to pay attention. You may be stuck earning a token amount in a forgotten bank savings account or brokerage sweep account. If so, make a change. Bank CDs have O.K. yields. But with a CD, you lock up your money at a fixed rate of return for a period of months. Money funds have similar rates of return without locking up your cash, and with a money fund, you are certain to get higher rates if the Fed persists in boosting its benchmark federal funds rate...
...side of the bar and hesitantly made my drink. It took him an eternity in Applebee's time - three or four minutes - and when he brought it to me, he didn't look me in the eye. I took a sip from the glass (which he had forgotten to salt) and tasted a cloyingly sweet dross. He had clearly added "Applebee's signature margarita mix," after all, and I couldn't stomach it. I ordered a vodka martini instead. The martini was watery, but I was too embarrassed to order a third drink, so I struggled through sobriety...
...back room" lacking. Then came another irony. Later generations of critics threw off their pretensions and mined the gritty glories of pulp fiction; they cogently argued that Hammett and Chandler, and Thompson and David Goodis and others, were worth cherishing (and that writers like Wilson, who's forgotten today as a novelist, weren't.) Yet in this rush to validate the pulps, Spillane was curiously forgotten - a prophet without honor. But with profit. Those royalties kept rolling...
...alcohol. You kept the ladies and gentlemen of our town smooth, happy and alive if you kept up their intake in the hospital. Roger broke his hip in the late 80s, when cigarettes and whiskey had given way to yoga and granola bars in American Afflaburbia. I had almost forgotten...