Word: hell
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Dates: during 1970-1979
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...amendment, which comes to a vote this week, picked up considerable support. The Administration reacted vigorously, claiming that it would lead to collapse of the Atlantic Alliance. Said a White House aide: "There is no fall-back position on this. We are going to fight it like hell, and we may lose. But there is no alternative...
...might just as well share in some of the profits from his own work, finally allowed the book to be launched officially (Macmillan; $3.95). The result is neither novel nor poem, but a series of free-association images that succeed, at best, in creating a freaky fresco of hell. The book has the feel and sound of such nightmare Dylan lyrics as Desolation Row and Memphis Blues Again. It is peopled by meth freaks, lumberjacks, a man called Simply That, and a vaporous presence named Aretha with "religious thighs" and "no goals" who is described as "one step soft...
...well as brilliantly knowledgeable of all facets of black people. That Bill Kelley has finally come around. . . . The publicity made it appear to be so impossible that young guys like Kelley and Reed could ever get together; because Kelley went to Feilston School and Harvard or wherever the hell he went. But that's crap. Kelley is in the same bag with Ishmael Reed, with me, with Baldwin, with Ellison, because we're black. Our problems deal with our approaches to our experiences, the way we can command or demand advances so we can support our families, and these...
...this formidable line allows him to negotiate with Israel on an even basis, but does not put him in bondage to Moscow. "To the extent that the Soviets are nervous about his dialogue with the U.S.," said an American official last week, "he is telling them to go to hell, that he is running his own government. But he has put himself out on a limb by expressing faith in American advice that the only way to recover the lost territories is to negotiate. If that doesn't work, his enemies will hold him to his words...
Then there is Sister Morphine. Rarely has rock music invoked such an invitation to hell. An electric guitar quivers menacingly, like a poised cobra. Off in the distance somewhere, the piano groans a low, dark, mournful chord. Jagger, sounding like John Lennon baring his soul, speaks from a hospital bed of the mind: "Oh, can't you see I am fadin' fast/ And that this shot will be my last...