Word: madnesses
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Dates: during 1940-1949
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Then "last August, when news of victory was broadcast . . . people all over went mad with joy, but happiest of all were the girls. . . .So now returned G.I.s make love easily. In dance halls today, it is the women that wait for the men. . . . Their yearning for men is like the yearning for rain during a drought. . . . In universities, the girls are like refugees who see meat and fish before them; girl students in enticing, flowery clothes gather around ragged boy students . . . competing with each other to gain [their] favors. . . . In the streets, no more is it men who stare...
...Dublin's 75,000 school kids last week, a springtime dream had come true. Their teachers, bless their hearts, had gone on strike. Mad through & through at official procrastination, they had walked out of their classrooms for the first time in Irish history, with no sign of going back...
Like many an editor of the old, hell-raising school, triple-chinned William Theodore Evjue is at his best when he has a mad on. As Wisconsin's loudest personal journalist, he lets his purple rages spill over the front page of the Madison Capital Times in roaring editorial torrents. He does not confine himself to print. The hired hands in his newsroom are inured to his thunderous invective...
Last week, 63-year-old Bill Evjue (pronounced Ev-you) was mad again. What irked him this time was the death of the Progressive Party (TIME, March 25). A faithful disciple of old "Fighting Bob" La Follette, he had been convention chairman at the party's birth at Fond du Lac in 1934. For most of its life, he was the movement's editorial mouthpiece. Confronted with the party's corpse, he refused to call it suicide. It was murder, he cried. He demanded an autopsy, accused the La Follette brothers of killing the party "by kidnapping...
...position (with suitable decolletage), cocks a critical eye, takes up an artistic stance, begins to sketch. It is only a matter of time before Kitty's portrait hangs with Gainsborough's Blue Boy at the Royal Academy, and she, a great London lady, drives the peerage half-mad with her charms...