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Trash-Can War. To get out of the red, Missner employed hundreds of hungry young hawkers in blue jeans and headbands who swarmed over Boston and Cambridge every Monday morning, making 20? on every 25? copy sold. Boston After Dark soon felt the impact of this sales army and began to press upon each willing Phoenix hawker 50 free copies of BAD, also to be sold at 25? apiece. Phoenix retaliated by offering the hawkers one, then two free copies of Phoenix for every copy of BAD they tossed in the trash can. Eventually, the hawker war was ended...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: The Press: The War of the Weeklies | 11/15/1971 | See Source »

Western intelligence analysts reckon that China is about to embark on a major expansion of domestic-and eventually international-air service. Soviet and British (Hawker Siddeley) sales teams are already in Peking offering attractive credit terms on medium-range jets; the French are also said to be in the running. Mao's wingmen will no doubt play one competitor off against another to get the best deal. In addition to buying directly from a manufacturer, the Chinese may consider picking up secondhand 727s or 707s from Western airlines...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: EAST-WEST TRADE: The Wings of Mao | 5/24/1971 | See Source »

...60th armored brigades did just that. First they blunted the Syrian invasion by knocking out 40 tanks. In an armored tactic known as "the loop," the 40th hit the Syrians head-on while the 60th rolled around their flank. Operating with precision, the two brigades were also supported by Hawker Hunter jets of the King's air force. The planes alone, according to Hussein, knocked out ten tanks and later harassed the Syrians as they retreated across the border after the 16-hour battle. Altogether about 100 Syrian tanks were disabled, while Hussein's army lost about...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: World: Jordan: The Battle Ends; the War Begins | 10/5/1970 | See Source »

...frantic hawker stands in front of each shop, jerking passersby inside with either a friendly tug or a non-stop, 78 r. p. m. sales-pitch. The walls, laden with shining guitars, pinata dolls, and obscenely fluorescent paintings of nudes and bull-fights, flash down aggressively at the customer. Mexicans sit behind the counters, talking and laughing, while middle-aged, paunchy Americans solemnly try on yard-wide sombreroes in front of the mirrors...

Author: By Jeffrey S. Golden, | Title: Confessions of a Long-Haried Aristocrat | 1/26/1970 | See Source »

...about to collapse all about us, but nobody quite knew how to panic. There was simply no way to characterize the crowd; the militants must have all been up front because they didn't seem to be in evidence. In the midst of everybody else was a button-hawker with a large, black-felt-covered board, dotted with all colors and sizes of peace buttons. A few kids stood around him trying to decide which buttons they wanted to buy. I swear, but even after the gas really started, that guy still stood there. He must have been the last...

Author: By Gregg J. Kilday, | Title: Memoirs of a Would-be Street lighter | 11/21/1969 | See Source »

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