Word: icing
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Dates: during 1990-1999
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...hunger sets in, a visit to the snack bar is in order. Here hot dogs revolve on metal spokes, popcorn gyrates and slushies come in watermelon, raspberry, rainbow, cherry and lime. Bacon cheeseburgers, pizza and a plethora of ice cream bars are also available to the overexerted individual. When skating becomes mundane, Wal-Lex offers, quite randomly, candlepin bowling in an effort to entertain its clientele...
...that old moon river again. Not content with finding ice on our very own Luna, scientists unveiled evidence in the journal Nature Thursday of entire underground oceans on no less than two of Jupiter's moons. Europa and Callisto were long suspected to bear icy crusts, but at a decidely chilly 483 million miles from the Sun, nobody expected these rocks to be anywhere near tropical enough for the liquid stuff. "If we find out four and a half billion years after the formation of the solar system that there's still enough heat that ice will melt...
...director Marc Levin's bifocal vision, Ray is a thug and a saint: he sells weed to the locals and buys ice cream for the neighborhood kids. Of course Ray will be nabbed, for a minor crime, and sent to the rathole of a D.C. jail. Another new guy, a rich Asian American (Beau Sia, scary and very funny), is so sure he'll be sprung that he spits wild invective at the screws. But Ray knows not to mouth off. Jail for him is a familiar horror: school with the toughest students and faculty...
...trace of the idealistic spirit that fueled the hippie music scene of the 1960s has survived into the skeptical '90s, one place to look for it might be southern Vermont, a region that has produced millionaire ice-cream philanthropists Ben and Jerry, a socialist mayor and, most interesting, the rock band Phish. Launched by guitarist Trey Anastasio and three buddies in a University of Vermont dorm room in 1983, Phish has built a hugely successful career as an underground band around the quaint notion that music can be used for building a sense of community, not just making money...
...right to tell, or embellish, shabby truths. The chief ships an Inuit boy and his mother to the U.S., live specimens, and there she dies. That the naturalist manages to return the boy to his people is no victory, but merely--in a novel that moves like an advancing ice age--a partial payment of shame...