Word: nonstops
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Interstate 10, bound east to west, is a nonstop train of dreamers. Barreling through the desert, they come in search of the cheap thrill, the easy score, the fast women, the sugar daddies. On their final approach, they can already begin to make out the pale halo of the city's lights--lights that can be seen from outer orbit, against the dark face of a planet couched in the shadow of night. They make their way down to the strip and all around the city. They're greeted by a madman's dreamscape: castles made of sand, built with...
Before there were webcams, there was Frederick Wiseman. Like the Internet cameras that film cubicles and street intersections nonstop, Wiseman creates unblinking images--exhaustive, exhausting, narration-free cinema-verite documentaries. The 4-hr. 8-min. Belfast lingers over daily life in a small blue-collar town: marriages, doctors' exams, factories, a read-through of Death of a Salesman. While Wiseman's vignettes can be mesmeric, they're too often simply tedious and excessive. And it smacks of self-congratulation for the public-TV gentry to do these working-class commoners the mere favor of acknowledging--as the Salesman reference suggests...
...showed him with a narrow lead over his rival, Senator John McCain. "Before Christmas, the Bush campaign was in a lot of trouble," says New Hampshire pollster Dick Bennett. "But they made some changes. The slide has stopped." And that is in New Hampshire, where McCain has campaigned almost nonstop for months. (To lower expectations, Bush aides are predicting that they might lose New Hampshire, even as they work flat out to win it.) In Iowa, where McCain is not participating, Bush has maintained a solid margin over publishing tycoon Steve Forbes in the final week before...
...hospital where I did my residency. I was in charge of the regular floor; my colleague, also an intern, was covering the ICU. Interns on call usually manage to grab at least a couple of hours' sleep during their 24-hr. shift, but that night we worked nonstop. Suddenly a senior resident came rushing down the hall. Emergency...
Despite succeeding years of more successful but unavoidably devastating surgeries, permanent paralysis of my legs and a nonstop assault of spinal pain, I've experienced no similar encounter. That fact tends to validate, for me, an objective core to the experience. If I manufactured one visionary self-consolation, why wouldn't I have repeated that solace in ensuing years of even worse trouble? In any case, to the surprise of my doctors, I've survived without apparent return of the cancer, and my life is more rewarding and productive than before that washing in Galilee. My lifelong sense that Jesus...