Word: mocking
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Dates: during 2000-2009
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PHILADELPHIA--In early morning hours Saturday, the people are still working. They are making goats' heads out of cardboard. They are soaking rags in vinegar to protect against tear gas. They are making peanut costumes to mock money politics. They are filling water balloons with paint. From wire, chain and pipe, they are making tools to shut down Philadelphia...
...city like San Francisco. A gaggle of protesters in front of a grocery store, some dressed as monarch butterflies, others as Frankenstein's monster. Signs reading HELL NO, WE WON'T GROW IT! People in white biohazard jumpsuits pitching Campbell's soup and Kellogg's cornflakes into a mock toxic-waste bin. The crowd shouting, "Hey, hey, ho, ho--GMO has got to go!" And, at the podium, Jesse Cool, a popular restaurant owner, wondering what would happen if she served a tomato spliced with an oyster gene and a customer got sick. "I could get sued," she says...
...critics' response came last week: a campaign to muster public opposition to the FDA's new rules and to target individual companies and their precious trademarks. The mock advertisements for "Campbull's Experimental Vegetable Soup," with the advisory, "Warning: This Product Is Untested," is only the first salvo. Some 18 other brand-name U.S. companies are on a tentative hit list, including General Mills, Coca-Cola and Kraft...
...friends in W, I would mock him until he cried littlegirly-fashion tears, though I would first have to find a good excuse for having read W, and my normal "It's at my barber's" wasn't going to cut it. I knew a photo shoot would involve random people touching me, which I have finally learned always sounds a lot better than it turns out. Besides, I'm not photogenic (see last week's issue, page 8). That's why TIME uses a drawing in the middle of this column instead of a picture. You cannot imagine...
...oversize, snotty fashion magazine. The June issue ran this tidbit: "Those adorable newlyweds Vanessa and Bill Getty hosted a gala wine tasting and auction at the St. Francis Hotel with the swell crowd invited"--just a page away from a picture of someone named Muffy Potter Ashton. I mock the magazine partly because I figure if I make the editors mad enough, they will cut me from the spread and no one will have to see the pictures of me. But mostly because it sucks...