Word: lolling
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Dates: during 1980-1989
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Arcadia was the humanist's Club Med. In it, nothing happens. Shepherds and nymphs, young soldiers and scholars, madonnas, saints and animals loll about in a state of pure being, with no future tense. Arcadia has ruins, sometimes quite grand ones -- as in Claude Lorrain's classical revisions of the pastoral landscape, here represented by the Landscape with Nymph and Satyr Dancing, 1641 -- but Roman architecture does not include a stern call to Roman virtue and gravity. Arcadia's weather is always equable, and its views intimate and mellow. Above all, its location is not too far out of town...
...spend searing days and chilly nights in a tent at one of four 200-man compounds in Ansar's Camp B, which constitutes one-third of a canvas village that sprang up on the desert plain three miles from the border with Egypt. By day the men loll on wooden pallets that are cushioned by a layer of foam and a rough gray blanket. At night prisoners are required to retire to their tents, close down the side flaps of their dwellings by 9 p.m. and not come out until reveille at 5:30 the next morning...
Well, not exactly. If Du Page and dozens of other fast-growing counties all over the U.S. are beginning to look like spread-out cities, most of their residents can still loll in a hammock in a spacious backyard on a late-spring evening. But these counties are hardly suburbs anymore, at least in the traditional sense of being bedroom communities for nearby cities. Not only jobs but also gourmet restaurants and chic stores are close at hand. As a result, people like Engineer Daniel Nee, a resident of Gwinnett County, Ga., 18 miles from Atlanta, commonly go six months...
...appeal comes from its isolation. The 14,000 students usually dress as if they were attending classes at a seaside resort: men in shorts or jeans and running shoes, women in white or pastel-colored blouses and slacks. They stroll hand in hand with bookbags over their shoulders, loll on the steps of lecture halls, hop into their cars for a trip to one of the 47 restaurants catering to Maties, the nickname for U. of S. students that had its origin in the tomato-color blazers students used to wear. The Maties have long been politically apathetic...
...troupe also represents the terrifying mob. They can loll about disinterestedly, and then be seized by frenzied fits. As one patient suddenly bursts out, "Man is a mad animal." He growls and flails his arms and butts the nurses and nuns, yelping, "I'm a thousand years old and I've commited a million murders--prisons don't help, chains don't help...I'm not through yet...I've got plans...