Word: grassed
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...Bronx, the area has one of the highest crime rates in the city. Blocks of buildings are burned out, homeless people camp in boarded-up tenements, small boys peddle angel dust on the streets. In the midst of this chaos, behind a cast-iron fence, three calm acres of grass and flowers surround a stately Tudor building. Students in blue and beige uniforms read in the shade of oak trees. "The oasis," as the facility is called by the community, is one of more than 100 federally funded Job Corps centers in the U.S. Inside its gates 263 young people...
That situation dramatizes A.A.C.C. difficulties in trying to unite in a heterogeneous Christian community. Though they represent 100 million members, the Nairobi delegates worried about future erosion in their ranks-to conservative evangelical churches and homegrown "independent" denominations. They urged leaders to make more "encounter journeys" to grass-roots churches...
...began two years ago when young people started disregarding STAY OFF THE GRASS signs to picnic and sunbathe on the park's green expanse. Next, a few students from the nearby university shed their bras. Panties followed, and some men forgot their trunks. Dips in the park's crystal-clear waters became skinny-dips. But the real ecdysiast explosion commenced this summer. By last week, as temperatures rose, at least 400 nudes sprawled provocatively alongside the park's main path. In fact, passers-by wearing street clothes were often hailed with cries...
...bulk, with the mythic menace of a dying Minotaur. Two linked tents frame a ceremony in a design as elegant as that on a Japanese screen. An Indian family flees from an approaching prairie fire whose stylized billows Charles Burchfield might have envied, across a field of endless prairie grass that Andrew Wyeth might have emulated. A Blackfoot chief stares at the viewer with the arrogance of long command-and the despair of one who knows his nation is doomed...
...begins with no music, just a whipsaw wind. Through the gauze of dusk forms a cluster of stars-no, a spider's web -the filigree work of predestination, trapping every animal who will pass through this forest. A fox sprints over the tall grass, fear in her eyes, an infant fox dangling from her clenched teeth. A gunshot sounds; a flock of birds rises from the grass. The fox is dead, her infant an orphan. Happy summer, boys and girls! This is the new Disney cartoon feature...