Word: handfuls
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...week at the Alzheimer's Association's International Conference on Alzheimer's Disease in Chicago, presenting a slew of promising results from drug trials, a new understanding of how the neurological disease works and insights into the way social and lifestyle factors may affect its progression. "On the one hand, Alzheimer's disease is a complex pathologic process, and that is daunting," says Dr. Ronald Petersen, chair of the Alzheimer's Association's medical and scientific advisory council and director of the Mayo Clinic Alzheimer's Disease Research Center. "But now we are beginning to segregate out different therapeutic targets...
...wasn't easy for Twombly to draw this "badly." Borrowing from the Surrealists, he experimented with sketching in the dark. For a time he forced himself to draw with his left hand, which his travels in North Africa had taught him to think of as the one reserved for wiping your rear. That made it the perfect hand to bring painting back to another kind of fundamental place. The classical world that Twombly invokes in his art isn't the white marble realm of Apollo. It's the sweaty Dionysian scrimmage. Any of his early canvases...
...anniversary of the World Trade Center attacks, he floats the argument that Islamic militants had the right to kill civilians in the U.S. and Israel - because these are democracies, where the people choose their leaders and thus are responsible for policies that enslave the rest of the world. The hand he stretched out here meant to slap the politicians but instead hit the mourning citizens of the country whose movies had taught him so much...
...much better to take their time and achieve some real change." But given Congress's already low approval numbers and the legislative gridlock of the past few years, it will be hard for leaders on Capitol Hill to be patient, especially with so much low-hanging fruit at hand...
...memories of what followed unfold in a series of images. I remember filing to the front of the train and thinking how it felt like leaving the bus on a school trip. I remember putting my hand on the shoulder of the driver and saying "I'm sorry" as he gesticulated frantically at two platform colleagues. I remember glancing down under the driver's carriage and telling my girlfriend not to look, and noticing how reassuring the warm bodies of the passengers felt as we crowded into a packed elevator to leave the station. I remember a blur of fire...