Word: lating
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...these guys could really draw. There's more color. In Bert Grimm's time they had three colors - black, green and red - and they weren't too sure about the red, and they weren't too sure about the green. Then the next group up is my group, the late '80s and early '90s. No Tasmanian devils, no half-naked pirate chicks or Harley Davidson-inspired stuff. Everything we were doing was like fantasy art, and all of this art kind of reflects what the customer is looking for. That's the whole reason you draw flash, so you have...
...never took a strong position on the LTTE until he ran for President, and he has supported privatization as President despite his long history as a left-leaning trade unionist. Most surprisingly, he was once a passionate advocate for human rights, speaking out against the government in the late 1980s during a notorious time of disappearances and killings. "Ideologically, he is not well formed," says Nanayakkara...
...Booker's tougher policing methods are not getting rave reviews from all residents. "It seems like the cops hate us," says DeAndre Breeland, a legal aide who lives in the South Ward. On a late-June night patrol, two cars from the Newark police department's street-crime unit zipped through some of the city's most notorious neighborhoods, slowing down to check on groups hanging out on stoops and flashing lights to make sure there was no funny business. The glares from Newarkers said it all: Get out of here. Of course, these same detractors didn...
...crime stats aren't all sterling: as the recession set in, robberies, for example, spiked 27% in 2008 and have risen 10% year to date through late June. But numbers don't tell the whole story. On June 27, a 17-year-old boy was murdered on Martin Luther King Boulevard, near one of Newark's spanking-new affordable-housing communities. "Whenever there's a murder in Newark, the city almost defaults to the terrible memories," says Clement Price, a history professor at Rutgers University, Newark, who has lived in the city for 40 years. "The statistics become meaningless...
...Late one night during the summer before my senior year of high school, I was sitting in the passenger seat when my friend Christine made a left turn and collided with a SUV. Our significantly smaller car skidded several yards and was totaled upon impact. An airbag erupted in my face and violently threw me against my seat. It smelled like someone had tried to make cupcakes out of plastic and failed. For a split second, I actually believed the car would explode and, had I not been in such a hurry to get out, my shell-shocked friend might...