Word: hollowing
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What of the future? Goodman does not indulge in hollow optimism or shrill pessimism. He is worried. If Saudi Arabia, which accounts for nearly one-third of OPEC's output, drastically cuts the flow, there will be economic depression in the West. On the brighter side: Saudi Arabian moderation may prevail in the Middle East; conservation and higher production in the West may curb the growth of petrodollars, increase confidence in currency and spur a greater sense of community. The bottom line of Paper Money is that, depending on those pesky exogenous variables, things could go either...
...having their tears jerked and their guts wrenched for three poorly-paced hours, many viewers recognized The Deer Hunter as a thoroughly racist, reactionary depiction of America's involvement in Vietnam. Cimino claimed he had set out to show what the war was really like. Instead, he made a hollow, melodramatic adventure story in which the dedicated, patriotic American soldiers were pitted against the sordid and infinitely evil Vietnamese; nearly every East Asian in the film was a leering, growling monster. In the end, our brave soldiers, having endured imprisonment, mutilation, and the deaths of their comrades, join their families...
...whole scene was intensely Princeton. Mammoth, hollow, damp Jadwin Gym, where no Harvard basketball team has ever won. Well-orchestrated cheers performed by a smartly dressed crowd of 3000. Eight Bouncy, blonde-haired cheerleaders, who all looked alike. And flawless Princeton defense, which combined with a disciplined, well-coached set offense to blow the Crimson right out of this small New Jersey town...
Reagan still acknowledges that registration is a hollow symbol, but he now defends it as a deception worth preserving to reassure allies and foes alike that, in his words, good old America is not going soft again. But does draft registration convince anyone that the United States is getting tough? And, more important, will we help preserve world peace merely by being the biggest bully' on the block...
...swirl and smile as the photographer snapped her picture? What season of debauchery brought the sulky thrust to this beauty's lower lip? At what groveling serf does the fine young lord in the Ferrari scowl with such contempt? Nothing; none; at no one; these glossy apparitions are as hollow as soap bubbles. The photographer has frozen moments that never were ? yet they tease us because their reality is beyond question, while our own stored moments, caught in snapshots and thrown into a drawer, are obvious and pallid fakes. Fascination sidesteps good sense, and we wonder: How was this...