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Even Alice Lenshina had grown alarmed at the wave of slaughter provoked by her fanatic followers. So Alice, the plump black matron who can issue her spearsmen "passports to heaven" and turn enemy bullets to water, did what any fugitive, illiterate, resurrected high priestess might be expected to do. She got in touch with her lawyer...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Northern Rhodesia: You Sons of God, Listen | 8/21/1964 | See Source »

Magic Word. Alice, now a plump 40, founded her cult among Northern Rhodesian tribesmen eleven years ago, after having-so she claimed-died and risen from the dead. As the story goes, the rapid spread of her fame dates from the day she ordered her followers to strip naked during a violent rainstorm. She said she would cleanse them of sin, but those beyond redemption would be struck dead by a bolt of lightning. According to the legend, no sooner had she spoken than lightning struck a nearby tree, killing two. As the story of the "miracle" spread, Alice...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Northern Rhodesia: Alice Is at It Again | 8/7/1964 | See Source »

...KNACK is a fantastically droll British bedroom farce played out in an all but bare room. If one can imagine three perplexed and at times almost pathetic Marx Brothers chasing a plump country girl, with the cry of "Rape!" punctuating the air like "Tallyho!", one gets a glimmer of Playwright Ann Jellicoe's comic instincts...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Television: Jul. 24, 1964 | 7/24/1964 | See Source »

...London registry office last week (he is an Anglican, she a Roman Catholic), Sir Winston sent Lady Clem to the ceremony alone. But the bridal party dropped round afterward to raise a toast with the grand old man, whom they found in the company of his plump cat, Jock...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: People: Jul. 24, 1964 | 7/24/1964 | See Source »

...Ndjili Airport, the DC-8 jetliner whined to a halt on the hardstand. Almost coyly, it poked its nose between a pair of aircraft chartered to ferry the last United Nations soldiers away from the Congo. From the hatch of the first-class compartment stepped a tall, plump man in a severe black suit, grinning like an African Fernandel. Burly, rifle-swinging Congolese cops and nervous Surete plainclothesmen hustled him into a black Chevy Impala with government plates, and off he sped into the flower-and sewage-scented dark. Thus last week with fanfare and foreboding did Moise Kapenda ("Moses...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: The Congo: Back Comes Moses the Beloved | 7/3/1964 | See Source »

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