Word: nirvana
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...tell their story of trouble in Nirvana, Hubner and Gruson adopt the usual techniques of the true-crime genre. Hearsay information is accepted as more or less reliable, and eyewitness accounts are energetically dramatized. Some characters are protected by pseudonyms. Others are fictional or, as the journalists prefer, "composites." In addition, dialogue that could not have been recorded firsthand is approximated for maximum effect. Here, for example, is a murder scene in which the victim, repeatedly shot, stabbed and bludgeoned, is as hard to kill as Rasputin...
...subject of tidy journeys, Oakland is the third straight team after Boston and Minnesota that Don Baylor has accompanied to nirvana. "It took me 15 years to get to the first Series," says America's designated hitter. "Now I wouldn't know what else to do in October." Still, he admits to feeling just a twinge of sorrow. "Especially in a championship year, you get close to the guys on your club. It's tough to move on." Not as tough as moving out, of course. And it helps to leave behind a little bit of yourself...
...living in a house finally. However, for many other transfers, their waiting is not yet over. For sophomore transfers, each year off-campus is a third of their time at Harvard. For junior transfers, it can be half of their time. Of course, living on-campus is not the nirvana of Harvard existence, but arbitrarily denying transfer students a chance to live on-campus when space is available is not justifiable. I hope that space will not continue to be jealously hoarded by Housing officers while transfers suffer. Timothy...
...children on a beef and hay farm in the Atlanta suburbs. "The house is real sequestered away from people," says Hunter in a lilting twang punctuated by the occasional dadgummit. "The farm isn't groomed -- there's a kind of wildness to the place. It's beautiful, a little Nirvana down there." Holly was the willful tomboy. "My father did not approve of my learning to drive a tractor," she says, "which is probably why I'm so stubborn. He made the rules, and I broke them. But, like everyone who grows up on a farm, I got a working...
...other Ginsburg--or is it Ginsberg?--Ginsbirg?--homonymous, at any rate, and a poet, the queer, the bundle of tie-died rags crumpled still sleeping at his brother's feet, sleeping off the daybreak or maybe paralyzed from the South African toadskin the freaked-out hitchhiker passed off as Nirvana several thousand moments ago in California, back there in a distant space before the angry pumped up reds-speed-and-Jack-Daniels buzz twisted, writhed and plummeted into the mellow blue-black of sweet Colombian dope and then, groggily, awoke into a bright new day of desert sunshine, cocaine...