Word: pigged
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Dates: during 1970-1979
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...crossed over, pig," the black hood sneers at the black cop. "You're on the other side." Since this is a series that emphasizes Social Relevance 101-a basic course on TV these days-the hood in that episode is just a good ghetto boy who has been led astray, and the cop is good old Paddy on the beat. The black punk begins to find the right path, in fact, when the black cop (Georg Stanford Brown) and his white roommate (Michael Ontkean), another rookie, take him home to their apartment to protect him from the really...
...Parlor Pig. Green Springs' 200 residents were aghast, as were other true-blue Virginians. They foresaw that the prison would not only deface the pastoral area but also attract new housing projects for guards and motels for visitors. It was, residents often said, like "leading the pig into the parlor." Architects, historical societies and garden clubs bombarded state and federal officials with indignant letters. If the prison were built, said one, it would be "an affront to the past and an insult to the future." The area around such important houses as Boswell's Tavern, a supposed haunt...
...commanding general, those tall noble Anglo-Saxons who emanated all the confidence of surgeons to their patients. The next day they would be issued green fatigues and flown around by daredevil helicopter pilots to spend (but for the air trip) an unalterably boring day visiting hamlets with pig farms, maternity clinics, 'miracle rice' plots, and children washed, scrubbed and smiling, lining the streets and waving GVN flags... The VIPs would return to announce that progress was being made. How could they deny it? The confidence of the mission officials was so pure...
...wasn't football. Maybe "grease-the-pig" or "slitherball," but not football. BU fumbled a dozen times, and Harvard retaliated with five of their own. Seventeen fumbles in four quarters! Even the 30 m.p.h. winds that drove sheets of rain in from the open end of the field couldn't behave...
...status-and income-of chess masters continue to soar. Up in Iceland, a relaxed and happy Bobby Fischer feasted on suckling pig, sipped a sinister-sounding potion called Viking's Blood, danced with a pretty blonde named Anna Thorsteinsdottir, and uncharacteristically arrived ten minutes early for a meeting with Iceland's President Kristján Eldjárn. The world chess champion's chief worry, in fact, was how severely lawsuits would deplete the $154,687.50 purse he won for trouncing Russia's Boris Spassky. No matter. With offers flooding in (endorsements, book rights, exhibitions), Bobby...