Word: glib
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Dates: during 1980-1989
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...beguilingly easy it has been for most white Americans to forget. How tempting to ignore the evidence that discrimination endures. How alluring is the myth that all those willing to work have shared in the surface prosperity of the 1980s. How glib are the assumptions that civil rights legislation, affirmative action and black political participation inevitably lead to an integrated society. How self-satisfying to conclude that the U.S. has already done enough to tear down the barriers of segregation...
...glib answer most often boils down to women withdrawing from the work force and returning home, thereby easing the time crunch for the whole family. But it is almost never that easy. After 20 years of studying women and stress, Wellesley College researcher Rosalind Barnett has found that alcoholism and depression in women are less frequent among those who work. Nor could most families afford to have one spouse give up working. And the American economy could not stand the hemorrhage of so much talent from its work force...
...white actor, the character was supposed to be a more handsome, intelligent, and articulate Asian. Whenever he came onscreen, there was a caption that read something like "Positive Ethnic Role Model." Clearly, the show's creators were aware that they were offending people. Their solution, however, was glib and insensitive, belittling valid anger with a ludicrously negative portrayal...
...takes the playwright up to age 42 in the twilight of the 19th century, hardly seems likely to become one of the most lionized men of the 20th century. Yet this portrait, a dozen years in the making, in the end enhances Shaw's achievements. In place of the glib rhetorician, Holroyd poignantly brings into view the shy, resentful, self-thwarting youth who created the persona of G.B.S. Ashamed of his scandalous and impecunious family, embarrassed by his own awkward ways with peers, employers and especially women, yearning for a position as genius long before he found the particular talent...
Always at the street corner, always at our side, often at our mercy. The wild- eyed man blocks the subway-car aisle, slinging curses and entreaties. The gray madonna and her smudges of children hover outside the church, despair incarnate. The glib hustler in designer jeans glides down the movie line. The kids with the grimy windshield rags orbit the intersection. The old man with no eyes sits on the steam grates in winter in a wet cloud of pain. The obsequious panhandler waits outside the automated-teller machines, where wallets are full and walls are transparent. Somehow, always never...