Word: moonlight
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Dates: during 1970-1979
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...pair of deranged scissors, pitiless assemblages of sight gags, smart cracks and terrible puns. A hard-riding posse of cowhands is held up by a single-file tollbooth in the middle of the Great Western Desert. A sweet, about-to-be-married young thing brushes her hair in the moonlight and bellows out The Battle Hymn of the Republic. Mel Brooks is not a subtle...
Everyone seems to know Joni. She is the rural neophyte waiting in a subway, a free spirit drinking Greek wine in the moonlight, an organic Earth Mother dispensing fresh bread and herb tea, and the reticent feminist who by trial and error has charted the male as well as the female...
Simon Legrees existed, the authors are quick to admit. But, the book suggests, the moonlight and molasses nostalgia of a Stephen Foster may somewhat more accurately describe the average relationship between slave and master than any serious historian has been willing to admit for years. The authors blend statistics on everything from the percentage of blacks in skilled plantation trades to the average age of black mothers at the time of their first-born child. The result is a vision of plantations as businesses administered in ways that suggest both a Victorian family and a paternalistic corporation eager to encourage...
What actually occurs is a confessional by moonlight. Each is lulled to a deep tenderness. She confesses her secret, her virginity; he reveals that he had no intention of selling the land. Then, in a great, stormy, self-lacerating monologue, James explains why he is so hateful to himself. He had accompanied his mother's coffin on a tram from the West Coast to the East. Even drink could not blot out the pain of her death...
...trained medical aides. A few men moaned and called out; one vomited blood and twisted in pain. Most suffered silently. At three points on the voyage, insurgents fired mortar and machine-gun rounds at the boats, providing a fearfully beautiful display of red and yellow flashes in the clear moonlight. By the time we arrived at Phnom-Penh, some of the 400 wounded had died; others were unconscious as they were loaded onto trucks for the trip to the jampacked hospital...