Word: glanded
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Dates: during 1970-1979
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...spent mooning over three dizzy young girls whom he loves equally in a rather abstracted way. Deeply skeptical of human solutions, he nevertheless deludes himself that he can heal the modern soul with an invention which he calls the lapsometer. Like a latter-day Descartes focusing on the pineal gland as seat of the human soul, More constructs a machine that isolates and measures areas of psychic imbalance in the brain...
...great Belgian anatomist Vesalius believed that the pituitary gland, a pea-sized protuberance located at the base of the brain, was an organ for the secretion of waste material. He could not have been more wrong. Though one of the smallest of man's hormone producers, the pituitary is the master gland. It exercises control or influence over virtually every biological function-including growth-by manufacturing substances that help control the other glands and organs. Thus an underactive pituitary in a child can arrest bodily development and produce a form of dwarfism. Last week a discovery was announced that...
...thousands in the U.S. alone. Doctors believe that more than 1,000 children a year could benefit from a ready supply of growth-producing hormones. Hormone shots, which can speed up growth by as much as five inches a year, now each require the output of a single pituitary gland. The demand far exceeds the supply of cadavers...
...label; even refuse once meant something to someone. These dilated sketches merely constitute another Andy Warhol movie. This time the Master has tiptoed into the background as producer. The direction, writing and photography are all ascribed to Paul Morrissey, Warhol's publicist, who carries on in the gland tradition...
Fauss (Michael Pollard), a goofy mechanical genius, is the otherwise backward son of a suffocatin' maw and a sufferin' paw. Halsy (Robert Redford) is a full-time motorcycle rider, ego-tripper and ladysmith. But the steatopygous girls who follow him are, as he admits, "gland cases" and "hurting whores." Between race-track rack-ups and sexual hang-ups, the film is crowded with subject-but barren of object. It is impossible to hide what never existed; nonetheless Director Sidney Furie seems to be attempting an existential comedy. Local color is dabbed in by the numbers. Maw (Lucille Benson...