Word: mouthes
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Dates: during 1950-1959
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SHARP at 9 a.m., Jan. 22, 1953, John Foster Dulles showed up for work in his fifth-floor office at the State Department, a tall, austere-looking man, eyes wary, mouth turned down at the corners, shoulders hunched, necktie slightly off-center. He sat down behind a big desk across from a big grandfather clock, surveyed a couple of portraits that he had ordered hung-one of his sideburned grandfather John Watson Foster, U.S. Secretary of State 1892-93 (under President Benjamin Harrison), the other of his uncle Robert Lansing, U.S. Secretary of State 1915-20 (Woodrow Wilson...
...hammy confusion, the G.C.A. operator himself was superbly true to life. Calm, careful, his every tone reassuring and reliable, he was just the man to bring a pilot home.* The true Lieut. Obenauf was surely willing to overlook the utterly silly last lines that the show put in his mouth: "Hey, I gotta pick up all that baby stuff from the Maxwells'." In real life, temporarily blinded though he was, he had jumped from the plane and run until someone tackled...
...fishermen can blame themselves for part of the trouble. For years U.S. fleets fished with such predatory methods that the Government now permits no salmon fishing outside the three-mile limit, this year outlawed the use of fish traps at the mouth of spawning rivers. But the U.S. has no control over other nations, whose fleets catch the salmon before they ever get to Alaska waters...
...word sentences, nested with concentric sets of parenthetical statements and restatements, across four-page expanses of type. The flow of words, like the wind, halts for a moment, then rushes on, engulfing a stabbing or a casual conversation with the same intensity. Simon rewrites without editing (a mouth is "closed again immediately afterwards, or rather pursed again, or rather sealed") and, in the New Realists' fashion, sets down the slightest detail with the pointillist's fanatic care. Yet his prose-wind's repeated excesses, by equating the important with the trivial, reinforce a savage statement of meaninglessness...
...high pitch through 53 inches of drawn-brass tubing requires the lung power of a bull moose and the finesse of a brindled gnu. What few trumpeters know is that while tootling they approximate the effects of "a formidable Valsalva maneuver," i.e., a hard nose-blow with nostrils and mouth blocked. To find out just how formidable the effects are, London's Dr. E. P. Sharpey-Schafer and California Musician Maurice Faulkner last summer sat down in London. Faulkner huffed his way through several trumpet passages, including a phrase from Wolfram's Song to the Evening Star...