Word: phlegm
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...through the Academy Award ceremony - it's mandatory, even for "Sopranos" fans - before watching the episode that aired last evening. (And having seen it, right after shooing our Oscar Night guests home, I can confidently predict that Burt Young will nab an Emmy for Best Phlegm...
...blocks from my office in Manhattan, taunting me. As a young Jewish male, my lifelong dream was to date a tall blond. But my other dream was to join the Friars Club. I pictured Shecky insulting Slappy, Slappy mocking Nipsey, Nipsey taunting Soupy, and Soupy choking on his own phlegm. There would be a whoopee cushion on every bar stool, pie fights over stolen punch lines and a lot of catcalling at the mere mention...
...moon is mute. And the magnificent swirl of the cosmos simply marks time: it cannot tell us of history, cannot instruct us on what to remember, what to proscribe, what to avoid. Memory is born of biological time, and it is borne on blood and bone and phlegm. Can the stars shudder at sacrifice? Only humankind can grasp the need for heroism amid the persistence of warfare simply by noticing that virtually across the street from the bronze soldiers, who fought a war spawned in the Balkans, is Yugoslavia's mission to the U.N. And only we can repent...
Like any regular Thursday morning, I was busily scribbling notes from The Crimson's cliquey front row of Professor Harvey "C -" Mansfield's moral reasoning lecture, when from a few seats behind me I heard an old woman burst into a garbled, phlegm-filled hacking fit. If I were mature, I would have disregarded this disruption of Book Eight of Plato's Republic like everyone else in the class. But I'm not, so I giggled at the funny noise. My outburst was audible for just a second because I clenched my body to hold in the laughter. I shook...
Like any regular Thursday morning, I was busily scribbling notes from The Crimson's cliquey front row of Professor Harvey "C -" Mansfield's moral reasoning lecture, when from a few seats behind me I heard an old woman burst into a garbled, phlegm-filled hacking fit. If I were mature, I would have disregarded this disruption of Book Eight of Plato's Republic like everyone else in the class. But I'm not, so I giggled at the funny noise. My outburst was audible for just a second because I clenched my body to hold in the laughter. I shook...