Word: piped
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...this issue (see BOOKS). Tom occupied the corner for a year. By day the copy boy buzzer was a continual interruption, but late at night, when the big bullpen was dark except for the ceiling reflections of nearby Broadway's neons, he sat under a desk lamp, pipe-smoking and writing. Fifteen times Tom rewrote his book. Late in the summer of 1954 he quit TIME and went off to the cranberry boglands of New Jersey's Toms River country to live alone in a shack and polish the final version of his Korean war story...
...bill maintain that these regulations curtail the profits of the nation's more than 5000 gas producers--most of them relatively small--discouraging them from seeking vital new reserves. The real violators of the consumer's interest, according to Senator Fulbright of Arkansas, sponsor of the bill, are the pipe-line companies who collect 90 cents from every dollar spent for gas by the householder. The amendment, he claims, would stimulate new industries based on an increased supply of natural gas and enable the producer to have a bigger share...
...grew lyrical, sentimental and popular in such musicals as Lady in the Dark and Lost in the Stars. But in this album he is still the unreconstructed composer of gutter nihilisms. In one ditty. Singer Lenya is a bitter, jilted girl who snarls at her indifferent lover: "Take that pipe out of your kisser, you dog!" In the chilling Berlin Requiem she sings the horrifying vision of a drowned girl whose body is decomposing, limb by limb, as "God gradually forgot her, first her face, then her hands and finally her hair." Funniest for U.S. listeners is a moaning ragtime...
...scandal, and the phony baby ploy, Blade finds that Adams is gaining ground. Still he needles his staff with the first law of gimmickry: "There ain't any highbrow in lowbrows, but there's some lowbrow in everybody." Where is the golden kazoo† that will pied-pipe the voters into the Adams camp? Before Election Day rolls around, Blade finds the kazoo and a tune to tootle...
...them all in a sack, and on a pitch black night took them out under an arch. First I would cough, and then immediately whale the daylights out of the cats. They whined and shrieked like an infernal pipe organ. I would pause for a while and repeat the operation-first a cough, and then a thrashing. I finally noticed that even without beating them, the beasts moaned and yelped like the very devil whenever I coughed. I then let them loose. Thereafter, whenever I had to eat off the floor, I would cast a look around. If an animal...