Word: heavens
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Dates: during 1980-1989
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STUDENTS from other universities of no small renown can simply volunteer to write for the paper, to take pictures for the yearbook, to give tours of the campus. But here, everything is a comp. What does "comp" mean, one may quite reasonably ask. "Competition?" No, heaven forbid, not "competition," the comp directors at The Crimson assured us. Not competition but merely "competence." You have to demonstrate that you're friendly enough to give a tour, for instance, or persistent enough to be a journalist...
Talk about your dish! In 1963 English gossip columnists figured they had died and gone to tabloid heaven. When these peccadilloes hit the front pages, you couldn't tell the players without a Who's Who and a Burke's Peerage. The scandal, a wild party held at the sunset of imperial Britain, brought down Harold Macmillan's Tory government and ushered in the era of Swinging London: the Beatles, miniskirts, free love and pricey drugs...
...tastes became more refined, sensuous dining did the trick. Richelieu (the 18th century duke, not, thank heaven, the Cardinal) gave elegant little suppers for his friends and their mistresses, all of whom dined in the buff. Madame de Pompadour got interesting results with truffles. Brillat-Savarin, the French jurist and gastronome, found that the truffle "makes women more amiable and men more amorous." Rabelais, on the other hand, got his kicks from marzipan...
Meet Take 6, the hot new gospel group whose performers, all devout Seventh- day Adventists, are as much in the business of preaching as entertaining. The six men, who perform with no instruments except their heaven-sent voices, count themselves among the world's more unusual evangelists. "Our mission," says bass Alvin Chea, "is to take the word of Christ into places it doesn't ordinarily go." Founder Claude McKnight III says of the group's Christian message, "It's not a gimmick for us. It is our lives...
...sleep to find the flight attendant placing a glass of Dom Perignon on his tray. "How would you like your eggs, Mr. Kliman?" His eyes fall on the small and tasteful burner resting atop her cart in the aisle. A sigh of contentment. "Poached, please." Has he arrived in heaven? Or is this merely Singapore Airlines...