Word: madness
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...distressed to see your checklist for helping parents recognize the warning signs of bipolar disorder. Like most teenagers, I am not happy 24/7. I can be happy, giddy, sad, mad, irritable. What teenager doesn't have emotions? One item on the list is being "very intuitive or very creative." Another is "poor handwriting." When did it become a warning sign to be creative? And if I had a nickel for every person in Fairfield County who has poor handwriting, I would be the next Bill Gates. DIANA LYNN, 15 Redding, Conn...
...Spring and Autumn. He elaborates by doing his best impression of my head bang while thrashing on an air guitar. Meanwhile, Miserable Faith's musicians kick off their set with a groove-heavy bass riff, and the 50 Naxi kids around me, all painted like soccer hooligans, restart their mad moshing. True to the matriarchal traditions of this culture, the girls match the guys slam for slam...
Your brief report on hunters who may have died from a version of mad-cow disease, "Deadly Feast: Can Venison Kill You?" [Science, Aug. 12], should rightly have been titled "Bambi Gets Even!" I've argued in the past that hunting is not a sport, because if it were, both sides would be comparably matched. But now perhaps it truly can be called a sport--with both hunters and prey having an equal opportunity to kill each other. CHERIE TRAVIS Downers Grove...
...outpouring of sadness from her countrymen bordered on the hysterical. And while many of us would like to pretend that only monarchy-mad Britons are capable of such a display, mourning for this damaged, lovely, contradictory woman engaged much of the world for days...
...riots. Completing the traditional arts, Angel, a musician who can make stones sing, lives there too. Mixing Ingmar Bergman with Monty Python, strange, vaguely metaphorical characters pop in and out. Pudgy, bowler-hatted men regularly visit the writer to collect anything that he loves, giving them over to a mad doctor who dissects the objects, looking for their soul. The painter receives a visit from a mute gallery owner who keeps word-cards in his pocket and forms malapropisms like, "Oh, sheep I've lost all my sobbing colours...