Word: madding
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Dates: during 1950-1959
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...meetings, Boy Scout jamborees, ladies' auxiliary suppers. From the pulpit of Harvard's Memorial Church last week, Dr. Samuel H. Miller, dean of the Harvard Divinity School, launched into a blistering tirade against Protestant clergy who, at the insistence of their congregations, reduce their office to a "mad dervish dance of unenlightened public activities...
...just too much. I mean this is a quiet neighborhood, respectable and all. You can't let a thing like this go on. Disrupts things. Starts fights. Really, last year they had a lot of trouble about this. Guys stand around on porches and stare. Wives get mad. Kids start to wonder. It's not good. Ain't healthy...
...devoured a chesty white dove (Tebaldi). Casarosa the old sheepdog (Rubi Rubirosa) pounced on two young things to Mendelssohn's Fingal's Cave Overture, fainted dead away while Ringmaster Max explained: "Casarosa isn't as young as he thinks he is.'' In a mad finale, the "God of the Press" arrived in a thunderclap to terrify the revolting animals into submission. Corriere Delia Sera's critic echoed the cheering audience, found Composer Negri's patchwork pastiche "irreverent and thoroughly delightful...
...boss of the U.S. forces in Iceland. Pritchard was relieved from duty after Thor Thors, Iceland's Ambassador to the U.S., called on the State Department to talk over the latest "incident" to rag sensitive Icelandic tempers. Ambassador Thors put it plainly: Icelanders were hopping mad because a U.S. sentry forced two of their people to lie on wet ground at the NATO Airbase in Keflavik while he called a sergeant to check their credentials (TIME, Sept. 21); Pritchard's departure would help smooth things over...
...finest story in the issue is by Kurt Blankmeyer, a piece called Saturday Burial, which describes the narrator's childhood experiences with a mad widow, and her dog Siegfried. The widow is a powerful Teuton transparently called Edda Norse, and the story has a conscious Germanic flavor and a fine not to say exciting Wagnerian ending. Saturday Burial is written in the same half-understanding, wide-eyed manner as Blankmeyer's Victory Over Japan, but less skillfully. The development is somewhat mechanical, and the events which should happen spontaneously seem to be plotted by an all-too-visible hand...