Word: lear
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Dates: during 2000-2009
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...hideaway in the early 1900s, the West Texas town of Lajitas, a stretch of 25,000 desolate acres on the banks of the Rio Grande near the Mexican border, hardly seems the ideal spot for an idyll. But lay down a strip of asphalt long enough for a Lear to land, then build a rich dude's dude ranch loaded with Old West ambiance--and, voilŕ, Lajitas, the Ultimate Hideout, is born. The resort stands as a paean to cowboy culture, attracting wealthy city slickers and adventure seekers...
...book tour for Crashing the Gate kicked off in Los Angeles with a cocktail party co-hosted by liberal luminary Norman Lear and bloggeress to the stars Arianna Huffington - a preview of the landscape inside the gate, perhaps. Boston is his second-to-last stop, and the bar where Moulitsas and Armstrong will speak is filled to capacity - at least a hundred people are there, an organizer tells me. Even Moulitsas can't get in. He and Armstrong stand on the sidewalk while admirers push copies of the book at him and ask him to pose for snapshots. Moulitsas...
...much more stable when she was posing for the Klaws' bondage films than it would be in the service of the Lord. In the decade after she left New York, Bettie was wed three times: to the teenager Armond Walterson, again to Billy Neal and finally to Harry Lear, a lineman for Florida Bell. Each marriage ended in divorce. But that was the least of her troubles - of the trouble she made for herself and those she lived with. Her rap sheet, as persuasively documented by Foster, is extensive, instructive...
...Hialeah policeman Tom Fitzpatrick was called to the Lear household, where Bettie was tearing the place up. He sat her in the patrol car while he took a statement from Harry. Returning to the car, he "saw Bettie in the back seat, with her dress pulled up, panties around her knees, masturbating with a coat hanger that the officer had left" there. Fitzpatrick's report: "defendant psycho." Assault and battery and disorderly conduct charges were dropped after she recommitted herself to Jackson Memorial, where she spent six months, part of it under a suicide watch...
When students tell Professor of the Practice of Literary Criticism James Wood that they first encountered King Lear at 2:30 in the morning, he knows that something is very wrong. “The text doesn’t speak to them,” he laments. And I, for one, agree. Harvard students, especially humanities concentrators, face monstrous reading loads. Expected to plow through 350 pages each week, students in the most demanding courses are faced with two alternatives—and neither, let me warn you, is pretty. The first option is superficial reading, a half-hearted...