Word: mutes
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Dates: during 2000-2009
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...these advertisements in hundreds of cabs. While having Isaac Hayes ask me to be concerned with my safety can be considered annoying, it is not nearly as frustrating as being urged to visit a trendy downtown bistro when I’m on my way to the dentist. Mute buttons on the screens can cut the noise, but having cute announcers bouncing around my knees during the ride is not as enjoyable as it might sound...
...wounded saying "Hi, Mom" and tearful families waiting for word. There are photographs of rubble and of bloodstains that could easily be mistaken for spilled wine. But there is none of the horror, none of the unimaginable sights--bodies torn apart, limbs flying--that cause combat veterans to go mute when asked about their experiences. The coverage of this war is as close to the truth of this war as reality TV is to real life. At a moment like this, the media should be an irritant--shocking us, shaking us, making sure that we're as alert and uncomfortable...
...wounded saying "Hi, Mom" and tearful families waiting for word. There are photographs of rubble and of bloodstains that could easily be mistaken for spilled wine. But there is none of the horror, none of the unimaginable sights - bodies torn apart, limbs flying - that cause combat veterans to go mute when asked about their experiences. The coverage of this war is as close to the truth of this war as reality TV is to real life. At a moment like this, the media should be an irritant - shocking us, shaking us, making sure that we're as alert and uncomfortable...
...fluttered with his hand, announced, "President John F. Kennedy died at approximately 1 o'clock Central Standard Time today, here in Dallas." I remember wondering how anything as exuberant as the Kennedy Administration could end in such a simple sentence. Around the corner in his makeshift office, Kilduff sat mute, weeping. "Can you tell me anything more?" I asked as gently as I knew how. He tossed the announcement paper at me, then he whispered, "Oh, that man's head. Oh, his head...
...shuffle off and become a postman for a final three minutes with "Wild Cat." She didn't deliver, either. Deciding that speed dating is nothing more than a novel way to offload three minutes of verbal garbage, I move on to salsa dancing. But after a succession of mute partners with a phobia for physical contact, only a gray-haired fiftysomething called Katrina manages to loosen my collar a little. Katrina's friskiness doesn't make up for the fact that I have not received a single calling card. So I consult in-house flirting guru Peta Heskell. "Some...