Word: pick
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Dates: during 1980-1989
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Perhaps Newsweek or Time will pick up on this and other surveys showing similar trends towards careers in academia and public-service, and suddenly proclaim that our generation has found its way. Having become repulsed by Ivan Boesky and all he represents, our generation would seem to be as socially and politically active as it should be. Future professors of social history may even point to the response to the College survey as indicating that Harvard students were somehow in the "vanguard" of a broader movement towards more socially-productive careers than selling junk bonds...
Unless the housing lottery goes entirely random, Harvard can never ensure full diversity. Unless all students get to pick their house assignment, they can never be ensured freedom of choice. Both goals are worthy; hopefully, this new plan will be a healthy compromise between them...
...than zero during the past two years. In January, with inflation running at nearly 1,500%, the cordoba was pegged at a rate of 10 for each U.S. dollar; today the rate is 1,600 to $1. In Managua outdoor markets are bordered by garbage mounds where malnourished scavengers pick through the debris in search of food. Stagnant waters have become a breeding ground for dengue fever. In rural areas a plague of rats threatens the country's sugarcane crops...
...Today show. Why, there's Dennis Quaid, talking about his new film, Everybody's All-American. Drive to work, turn on the car radio. The local station is running a chat with Jessica Lange, another star of the intriguing new film Everybody's All-American. Park your car, pick up a newspaper, and read an interview with Taylor Hackford, director of that fascinating new film Everybody's All-American. At lunch, walk past the newsstand. Vanity Fair has a cover story on Jessica Lange, star of the new film Everybody's All-American. Get home that evening, channel-hop from...
There I was in the cockpit, hurtling toward the coast of Libya at 500 m.p.h. My mission: to drop a couple of 100-lb. Maverick missiles on a terrorist training camp near the Libyan port of Benghazi. My craft: the new supersecret F-19, a plane so hard to pick up on radar that I felt sure I could swoop in and blast Gaddafi's buddies without getting shot down myself. Suddenly, I saw something that shattered my composure. High over my stubby left wing, a Soviet-built MiG-25 Foxbat fighter was headed my way. Did the enemy know...