Word: marveled
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...rate is from $32 down." Most of his operating costs are covered by $10 and $20 contributions, which he acknowledges individually on the air ("My thanks today to Beverly, to Topsfield, to Rockport . . . And now let's get back to the music"). Fishermen flipping the dial pause to marvel at a plea for contributions by a local voice, so familiar and yet so strange; they often stay on to sample Mozart or Bach. Guy Wonson, a stonemason, started listening in 1968. He got a kick out of the commercials at first, but the music gradually insinuated itself. Now he sometimes...
...that block. In one of his first meetings with the faculty, Bok began to explain his view of the role of the university. From the back row came a whisper: "We are the university." Observers such as John Rosenblum, dean of the University of Virginia's business school, marvel at "how little power Derek Bok has" to deal with these baronial scholars. Bok acknowledges the situation: "Nothing works around here," he says, "without faculty cooperation." Cooperation is no easy thing to win in Balkanized Harvard, where each of the graduate schools controls its own endowment and budget, hires...
...popular, if not honorable, antecedents. The Fly is a free, gory and engaging remake of the 1958 sci-fi horror movie, directed by Kurt Neumann, about a scientist who tampers with nature and switches heads with a housefly. Howard the Duck is a bestial bloviation of Steve Gerber's Marvel comic books of the '70s. The first film expands and enriches its schlock source; the second turns a wiseacre mallard into a $40 million promotion for stuffed Howards...
Despite the continuing marvel of viewing the Titanic, the scientists never forgot they were touring what is, in effect, a mass grave. "You look at parts of the ship and you get flashbacks -- that Captain (Edward) Smith stood here and (Multimillionaire John Jacob) Astor was there, and that's where they were loading the women and children," Ballard told the Boston Herald. "You remember the staircase scene with people going up and down, and you remember the band playing...
Mass-produced automobiles put freedom of movement within the reach of nearly all Americans. Nothing, in theory, could be more democratic than that. But as I see and hear America now, I marvel at the apparent enslavement of a robust people to their machines. Nearly everyone must live within earshot of the snarling, thunderous din of traffic. People who motor to their places of employment must make allowances for the time they will spend sitting still in long lines and for the time they will have to devote to finding a place to put their automobile once they arrive...