Word: mobbing
(lookup in dictionary)
(lookup stats)
Dates: all
Sort By: most recent first
(reverse)
...Probably about the same time trillion-dollar deficit spending and torture did. Let me ask you: When has the miscegenation card not worked? Bang that drum: Have you seen these crowds Sarah’s been drawing? Talk about fired up.” “Listen, lynch-mob fired-up is not the same as Rock-the-Vote fired-up. It kind of looks, to me, like we’re tapping a nasty vein here. We used to be about NASCAR dads, not crypto-Klansmen. What happened to compassionate conservatism, ‘values voters?...
...Turns out Stone doesn't want to be the final guy to join the lynch mob. Rather than a denunciation of Bush (hagiography is out of the question), he offers a fairly straightforward life. The film moves simultaneously on two chronological tracks: Bush's life from his Yale undergraduate days in the mid-'60s to his governorship of Texas in the mid-'90s, and his Administration's 2002 preparation to invade Iraq...
...those crimes "can reverberate" and cause riots. This argument was developed during the 1980s. At the time, many in the Northeast feared that race-based crimes would ignite their cities. In 1986, Michael Griffith, a 23-year-old New York City immigrant from Trinidad, was targeted by a white mob when he ended up in the wrong part of Brooklyn. He was struck by a car and killed as he tried to flee his attackers. Subsequently, a then obscure Baptist minister named Al Sharpton led a march through Brooklyn, a march that itself nearly led to violence. A few months...
...course, for Pacino’s Michael Corleone, the line was uttered in frustration over the Don’s inability to legitimize his mob empire and escape a life of crime. If Ho–a junior running back–were to make the same statement, it would probably carry with it a tone of joy and redemption...
...Lenny considers himself less a thug than a commercial facilitator ("What d'you think we are? Gangsters?"), and Archie seconds that delusion. ("Keep your receipts," he tells one associate, "'cause this ain't the Mafia.") But the milieu is redolent of many a mob story, with the rocknrollas as goodfellas, and their hangouts as low-London franchises of the Ba-Da-Bing. The dialogue has an East End accent, but it's basically Tarantinian chatter - the joking among ruthless men with roguish rhetoric and short fuses - leavened for variety with the odd upmarket observation. "Beauty is a cruel mistress...