Word: mad
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Dates: during 1950-1959
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...distilled evil, one of the most implausible women in fiction's gallery. As a young, sweet-looking girl she had murdered her parents, burned the family home and skipped off to Boston. There she became the mistress of a man who ran a string of brothels, drove him mad with jealousy and was almost beaten to death by him. When she crawled...
...Washington Letter. A veteran (Air Intelligence), he became a Nevadan in 1945, married the daughter of a wealthy Wells (Nev.) rancher. In Washington, Tom was a hard-digging reporter with an unquenchable idealism. Said a fellow Kiplinger staffer: "Tom's the slow burn type. But when he gets mad. he'll pop." Tom Mechling's slow burn began with the stories Margaret carried home evenings from her patronage job as a stenographer on Pat McCarran's Immigration subcommittee. Angered by the highhanded tactics of Nevada's silver-thatched Senator, Tom began to question his friends...
...sham democracy in which the population, given a meaningless paper franchise and deprived of all rights and liberties, finds itself helpless either to stay its own increasing victimization -see the charred black corpse swinging at every crossroad!-or to brake the suicidal careering of its production-and-profit-mad economy toward the imperialistic enslavement of all peoples, total war, and an apocalyptic holocaust and collapse . . . It is, in essence, the myth of the Frankenstein monster, the machine built to be man's slave, and which enslaved...
...probably the last time. In an hour-long speech sputtering with the standard invective, he announced Russia's complete rejection of the five-power disarmament talks proposed last month by the U.S., Britain and France. He also took a sideswipe at Ike Eisenhower, who, claimed Malik, has "a mad armament race as his platform...
Rookie Outfielder Roy Hobbs could not have stumbled into the New York Knights' dugout at a worse time. Manager Pop Fisher was screaming mad, and with reason. The Knights were mired in the cellar, they had forgotten how to hit, their best pitcher had just blown up. Things were so tough that Pop had athlete's foot on his hands. When Roy reported, a big, 34-year-old semipro from the sticks with a bassoon case in his hands, Pop sneered: "Oh, my eight-foot uncle, what have we got here, the Salvation Army band?" Said...