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...worshipping with everybody else. But I hadn’t actually sung the song for a year or two (or five...not since ’61?). And the more I tried to sing, the less I knew, and the sorer I got. All I could do was loll there, dead in the water like some windless sloop. But didn’t I have a right to these words? To get to sing them like everybody else?I looked right, past Daddy (warbling away), and saw the pew stuffed to its end. So I looked left. It was full...

Author: By Nathan D. Johnson, CONTRIBUTING WRITER | Title: Featured Fiction | 3/12/2009 | See Source »

Despite the considerable landscaping effort at Naypyidaw's Natural Herbal Park and Water Fountain Garden, no people loll in these public green spaces. I see none of the country's omnipresent Buddhist monks in the new capital, even at the local pagoda. The instigators of last year's democracy protests, which soldiers broke up with gunfire, presumably aren't welcome in a city dedicated to a surreal sense of order...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Postcard: Naypyidaw | 5/22/2008 | See Source »

...Despite the considerable effort evident in the landscaping of the manicured confines of Naypyidaw's Natural Herbal Park and Water Fountain Garden, no people loll in these public green spaces. Indeed, the only place, besides the market, where people seem to be relaxing was at a Buddhist pagoda, where three canoodling couples have sought out shade. But none of the country's omnipresent Buddhist monks appear to have made it to Naypyidaw, not even to its pagoda. Presumably, these instigators of last September's peaceful democracy protests, which were violently suppressed by soldiers aren't overly welcome in a city...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: The Burmese Rulers' Paranoid Home | 5/19/2008 | See Source »

...cantonment proves remarkably easy to find. Red pennants adorn trees and street lamps along miles of dirt road that winds through rice paddies and fields of yellow mustard, ending by a sprawl of ramshackle enclosures and wood huts. There's little sign of military menace as goats and pigs loll around on grass knolls - that's before we near the sandbags of an outer bunker where a young woman in fatigues, who appears to be of school-going age, turns her machine gun in our direction and fixes us with a steely gaze...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Maoism Around the Campfire | 12/20/2007 | See Source »

...There are roads but few cars, and roadside railings are torn up at the stumps. The shops feature bare shelves and price boards for imaginary products that are changed three times a day. Telephones don't work, the power is out, and blackened factory stacks spew no smoke. People loll in the streets with nothing to do and nowhere to go, even if there were a way to get there. "What do people eat?" I asked a lawyer I met. "Good question," he replied...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: First Person: Imprisoned in Zimbabwe | 4/12/2007 | See Source »

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