Word: morbidly
(lookup in dictionary)
(lookup stats)
Dates: during 1980-1989
Sort By: most recent first
(reverse)
Garrow writes that partly as a result of the FBI's intimidation, King often suffered from morbid depression, a contention hotly contested by some of his heirs. Says the Rev. Jesse Jackson: "The thesis that his personal life was so convoluted that he couldn't function with clarity is contrary to the facts. What I saw was courage to the point of crucifixion." Some of King's associates object to Garrow's revelations. Even if true, says Wyatt Walker, former staff chief to King, "how does that change the value of his contribution toward sensitizing the nation on the moral...
Ginsberg is becoming very "post"; he is 60 years old, and his poems reflect a morbid fear of old age. He also fears his own obselescence. Ginsberg previously penned two different poems entitled "Don't Grow Old," and that is the overriding theme in White Shroud. "I can't get it up/...Growing old in my heaven," he writes in "Airplane Blues." He is clearly self-conscious in his poems, for he is both old enough and important enough to refer to himself several times. Increasingly, Ginsberg's poetry is rooted in his past, as he alludes to "Howl," "Aunt...
Originally written in the '50s and now a cult classic, the story is dark and morbid. Thompson has created an eerie character in Lou Ford, a nice normal guy with a devious and demented psychology lying just below the surface...
Perhaps it's a rather morbid thought, but revelations of this sort are better made post-mortem. They add to the artist's integrity by consolidating his character as uninfluenced by monetary gain, they give their creator a sense of mystique and the art world a shot of magic and excitement. Just recall how thrilled we were last year when Harvard Professor of Music Christoph Wolff unearthed a heretofore unknown piece by Johann Sebastian Bach while sifting through the Yale University music archives. No thrills this time around, though, just a well-placed feeder in last September's issue...
Ever since the heyday of horror fiction, when Henry James and Edith Wharton tried their hands at the supernatural, aficionados have been awaiting a writer to transcend the genre and give it a new legitimacy. Clive Barker may be the man. He is as morbid as Stephen King, but unlike his American counterpart, this 33-year-old writer from Liverpool is witty, unpredictable and concise. In these five tales, an aphrodisiac turns the world into a monkey house; a vagrant with a mass of knotted material seems to be playing with nothing less than DNA; a palace is built...