Word: half-hour
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...Kennedy School half an hour early to grab a good seat, but the first few rows of the Starr Auditorium, virtually empty, are reserved for important people. So I hike to the rear of the hall and park in a sea of K-Schoolers who spend the next half-hour swapping stories about foolish things college kids have been saying in their classes. ("He made this comment, it was very undergraduate-arrogant," one explains.) Finally, Wellstone takes the stage...
...effect." But such words of pathos seemed to hold sway neither over the police nor the rebels inside, who once again warned police away with a spray of gunfire. A bullet hit one of the carriers, but no injuries were reported; the commandos, defiant, returned for another march a half-hour later. Rebels, still holding 72 hostages, accuse police of deliberately trying to provoke a fight as an excuse to storm the compound. Though Peru has reaffirmed that hostage safety remains their first concern, plans for negotiations continue to be frustrated. If a flare-up does occur, leaders on both...
...estimate that as many as 1,000 Peruvians are languishing in jail after being wrongly accused of involvement with guerrillas--and convicted by masked judges sitting on anonymous military tribunals. The prisons are some of the world's most inhumane, with inmates suffering gross malnourishment and spending only a half-hour daily outside their impossibly overcrowded cells...
...disappointing millions of fans who got their daily fix of the bizarre in 1,900 newspapers around the world. The Far Side's popularity, however, has never faded. Larson continues to rack up impressive sales of books (31 million), calendars (41 million) and greeting cards (80 million). An animated half-hour TV movie he produced two years ago, Gary Larson's Tales from the Far Side, was not a hit, but he is currently working on another. "In some ways my retirement backfired," he says. "I'm working harder than I ever did." He is also busy writing a children...
...Monastery of Christ in the desert sits at the end of a bumpy half-hour drive down a ruined red-clay road that wends into the azure sky of northwestern New Mexico like a curl of Christmas ribbon reaching toward heaven. The main sanctuary, fashioned from brown adobe and perched on a small hill, is warmed by burning pinon and scented by freshly baked bread. In the late afternoon the surrounding canyon glows with a purple twilight. At night the waters of the Chama River gossip with the birds, and the stars weave a gossamer blanket overhead. No matter what...