Word: metallism
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...instead of an oil slick, the tide threw a more bountiful harvest their way - 40 metal shipping containers packed with everything from BMW motorbikes to bags of dog food and luxury cosmetics. Police were almost powerless to stop thousands of would-be salvagers hauling their beach booty away. Under British law, salvagers can take goods from a wreck for safekeeping, if they declare their finds to the authorities and are willing to eventually hand them back to the rightful owners...
...past few months. But while the housing-bled U.S. economy has been sluggish, and the dollar weak, it's all proving quite manageable. "We can feel the U.S. slowdown, but it's not unsettling. There's no crash," Leibinger-Kammüller says. Trumpf's sales of its metal-cutting machines elsewhere--to Saudi Arabia, to Singapore and especially in Germany--continue to rack up double-digit growth rates. The buoyancy of global trade "is amazing. We have to keep telling ourselves: Careful, this can't last," she says...
...lite included the Rothschilds during the 1890s, when Azerbaijan produced half the world's oil supply. Oil production slid steadily as the Soviets let the infrastructure rot. Today hundreds of rusted oil derricks and pump jacks, many predating World War II, cram the seafront outside Baku like a scrap-metal forest, with old Soviet tractors turning several wells. The astonishing sight was memorialized in the 1999 James Bond movie The World Is Not Enough. Towering over the area now is a 16,000-ton water-injection platform being built by BP, which will be towed to an oil field...
...gadget." The town square is tiny, with no stores or restaurants, and is encircled by abandoned 15th century stone and wood cottages that look like drooping gingerbread houses. It is the vision of a dying mountain town, except for the odd 5-m-by-8-m rectangular slab of metal perched on the rocky cliff above, like a giant shining postage stamp. By 10 a.m., with a computer adjusting the mirror's position, the sun is indeed ricocheting down to the piazza, but it's more like a light in your eye than sunshine on your face...
...waiting to interview an academic who was temporarily incapacitated, I noticed each driver in line to get into the small drop-off area was letting off steam by blasting their horns and shouting abuse at the people ahead of them. Conducting it all was a guard with a piercing metal whistle which never left his mouth. "Not the most peaceful place," agreed TIME's Dhaka stringer Haroon Habib when he arrived to help with the interview...