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...House of Astonishing Coincidences. And every character is designed either to point Lily in the right direction (the women) or to dramatize the rural bigotry she's trying to escape (the white men). I wish T. Ray, well played by Bettany, had been given some spark of ambiguity, some inner life beyond his meanness; and that June - her arms folded in disapproval, like a stern nun concealing a ruler in her sleeves - didn't have to endure the standard redemption process of being enlightened, converted, broken. But this is a parable, and the people in it are meant to signify...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: The Secret Life of Bees: A Honey of a Film | 10/16/2008 | See Source »

...have a Trojan tattoo on my inner thigh...

Author: By Joseph P. Shivers, CONTRIBUTING WRITER | Title: Coke (Coca-Cola) Kills (Sperm) | 10/15/2008 | See Source »

...bootie-wearing Chihuahua with a hovering celebrity owner (Jamie Lee Curtis). When her careless dog sitter (Piper Perabo) takers Chloe to Mexico, the pooch is kidnapped by a dog-fighting ring. But in this pup's harrowing quest to return home to the Hills, she ends up finding her inner bark...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Chihuahua: Hollywood's New Top Dog | 10/14/2008 | See Source »

...kind of shocking. For years, the recipe for injecting race into a political campaign has been clear. First, invoke the specter of black crime, as Lee Atwater did in 1988 when he vowed to turn murderer Willie Horton into Michael Dukakis' "running mate." Second, attack lazy people in the inner city, as Ronald Reagan did in 1976 when he condemned a Chicago "welfare queen." Third, bash affirmative action, as the late North Carolina Senator Jesse Helms did in 1990 when he ran an ad showing white hands crumpling a job rejection notice...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Is Barack Obama American Enough? | 10/9/2008 | See Source »

...sextant, philosophical books, and in the middle of it all a painted man, naked.Felicity stood, aghast. She felt the rising tide within her breast, the swelling of a liquid blaze that she could not suppress. She knew not from whence this Irish fire came; it overflowed from some inner latent sea to fill her mouth, to seep from her nether regions, straining to burst. She hardly noticed when Frederick departed to the small sculpture gallery off the main hall. No, she was alone here, alone again with The Stable Boy.The cool stale air, the marble floors, the stone balustrades...

Author: By Lesley R. Winters, CRIMSON STAFF WRITER | Title: The Stable Boy | 10/9/2008 | See Source »

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