Word: growed
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Dates: during 1940-1949
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Three weeks ago a pal bet Alf 10 shillings and two gallons of beer that he couldn't grow a beard and keep it on till Easter. Alf figured the bet was a cinch, because he had grown a beard last summer and none of his bosses had said a word. This time, however, Brewery Manager Jack Redmund (who had been Alf's officer in the territorials during the war) issued an ultimatum: "Shave it off or work inside." A brewery executive explained: "We didn't feel that the growth of the beard upheld the prestige...
...friend offered to pay off the bet and forget the whole business. But Alf, taking his turn on the picket line, turned the offer down cold. "After all," he said, and his fellow strikers agreed, "it's the principle of the thing. A man has a right to grow a beard any time he wants...
Catastrophic Paradoxes. And yet, as 20th Century civilization reaches a climax, its own paradoxes grow catastrophic. The incomparable technological achievement is more & more dedicated to the task of destruction. Man's marvelous conquest of space has made total war a household experience and, over vast reaches of the world, the commonest of childhood memories. The more abundance increases, the more resentment becomes the characteristic new look on 20th Century faces. The more production multiplies, the more scarcities become endemic. The faster science gains on disease (which, ultimately, seems always to elude it), the more the human race dies...
Niebuhr's chief contribution to U.S. liberal thinking, his friends say, is keeping his fellow liberals on the path of the pos sible. "You don't get world government," he once said, "by drawing up a fine constitution. You get it through the process of history. You grow into it." The feelings of his fellow theologians are more mixed. Some criticize his failure to think and act in terms of the church or to generate ideas that would help to counteract modern irreligion and immorality. Others find his ideas of sin too grandiose, too remote from the common...
...costumed duel-to-the-death in which "the two antagonists lock wrists . . . their sweat-drenched faces only an inch apart . . . and swap talk: 'Norman dog! Anglo-Saxon lilies will grow over thy bones ere yon sun sets...