Word: hooded
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Dates: during 1980-1989
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...There is danger. A passerby, a tall, mustached young man, makes his way out along the breakwater to warn the solitary watcher. Over the rising wind he calls out to her that she is not safe. Now the mysterious figure turns, plucks aside the rough cloth of her hood and stares at the man, or through him, for a few moments. Then she turns again, having found no reason to speak, and once more looks out to sea. The young man, confused and troubled by what he has seen in her face, rejoins his fiancée, with whom...
...last found himself before the cavern where the beauty is sleeping, guarded by the dragon. And as if, moreover, he had become aware that the dragon was not a menacing creature there at her side watching over her, as we imagine him in the myths of our child hood, but instead, and much more frighteningly, a creature inside of her: as if she were a dragon-princess...
Only hours later, another group of mountaineers met disaster on Oregon's Mount Hood, roughly 100 miles south of Mount Rainier. The victims were on an outing sponsored by the Portland-based Mazamas Club, a mountaineering group founded in 1894 and specializing in assaults on Mount Hood's 11,235-ft. peak. At the 10,500-ft. level on the dormant volcano's northeast face, one or more of the 17-member party slipped. The climbers, roped together in groups for safety, tumbled 2,000 ft. down the slope...
American society has devoted special energy to perfecting what can be a creatively insidious form of exploitation--advertising. In its worst forms, the advertisement seeks to induce a Pavlovian response of slobbering acquisitiveness through irrelevant, and often exploitative associations: the blonde languishing on the hood of a Lincoln-Continental, or the leather-skinned cowboy touting the manly virtues of Marlboro Country. Yet these tactics are by no means confined to the world of Madison Avenue: they are used to sell daily newspapers and cheap novels, pornographic magazines and T.V. shows. The values of the advertising world steadily creep through...
...Line assail the sky. The crowd, most of it, becomes a blur of fidgeting feet, twisting torsos, bobbing heads. A corpulent man in an orange shirt spins and dips. An elderly woman executes a scampering step with the help of her cane. An open-shirted youth leaps to the hood of a car and, after a flurry of steps, floats down to earth without breaking his rhythm. Here and there gaudy umbrellas twirl in the air. Faces gleam with sweat and exuberance...