Word: locus
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...building smothered in snow climbed a husky figure in heavy arctic gear. Dr. Paul Siple. 49. leader of the U.S. encampment at the South Pole, made his way to a spot his group had picked as the exact locus of the earth's bottom, the South Pole. There, he squinted into the wind and looked around. But he took no readings, noted no data. Siple was out for the sheer fun of standing on the pole in the record-breaking cold...
...issue is not simply a clash between academic innocents and villainous politicians. Yet, it is more than merely "the result of the misdirection of the efforts of sincere men." Even assuming that Dorgan et al. are sincere, there are few less open to reason than "righteous" fanatics whatever their locus on the political spectrum. We are not at all convinced that Messrs. Dorgan and Robertson are unrepresentative of the unintelligent approach of at least some of the importantly placed leaders in the investigatory parade. In this sense, the forum of the other evening may have served well in pointing...
George Loeus, Army starter, allowed but four hits, but suffered from lack of control. Only two midshipmen could solve Locus' deliveries: Howie Johnston slammed a triple, double, and single; catcher John Burrington got Navy's only other safety, a bunt single...
...only by a 'better justice' on the part of the Western world, not by the all too cheap denials in which the fear of the West is now expressing itself. Nor can I confess allegiance to ... [the] 'Christian West'; rather I think that the locus of Christianity is to be sought above today's conflict between East and West...
Focus and locus of most of Author Mitchell's studies is the environs of McSorley's Old Ale House, which for 88 years has resisted change just off Cooper Square, where Manhattan's skidroad-the Bowery-ends. McSorley's has also provided a haven for Manhattan's literary transients-writers, newshawks, painters, poets (grateful Poet e. e. cummings once immortalized mcsorley's: "Inside snug and evil. ... the Bar tinkling luscious jigs dint of ripe silver with warmlyish wetflat splurging smells waltz the glush of squirting taps. . . ." The venerable saloon still has soup bowls instead...