Word: potted
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Dates: during 1970-1979
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...said Cambodia's Premier Pol Pot at a banquet in Peking some weeks ago. After the leader of Kampuchea, as Cambodia was renamed when its Khmer Rouge Communists seized power in 1975, visited China, some changes in Southeast Asia's most militantly xenophobic regime appeared. Obviously at Peking's urging, the government once again acknowledged, though not diplomatically, neighboring Thailand, with whom it had previously had little contact. Last month the country's Foreign Minister, Ieng Sary, came to New York City, where he played host at a United Nations cocktail party for 200 diplomats...
Since the Communists took control, if refugee reports are correct, at least 500,000 people out of a population that once totaled 7 million have either been executed or have died from a variety of causes. Premier Pol Pot has declared that another 2% of the population are still "enemies of democratic Cambodia." Presumably they are in danger of what the government euphemistically describes as "the elimination of contradictions...
...Some blood spilled out of the peace movement itself, some flowed from the battered skulls after the Harvard strike. Then there was that day in 1970. Val strolled through Cambridge, sun shining, resolving to leave her meetings and take walks more often. At home, she is standing over a pot of spaghetti sauce chopping vegetables into it. She turned on the kitchen...
...sauce was simmering, it smelled delicious, she picked up the pot to smell it--she always did that and then somebody was saying it, she heard him say it, it couldn't be, but he was saying it was, she turned around to look at the screen, it couldn't be, but there it was, there were pictures, it was happening right before her eyes, she couldn't believe it, and then the picture stopped and someone was talking about a dirty shirt collar and talking about something else as if there were anything else to talk about...
...moist nights of last week, Dick Helms sipped a little Iranian vodka (straight over ice) and played a little bridge with his family (he made four spades with ease). He lunched with old agency colleagues, who gave him a long, standing ovation and, over his protests, passed around a pot for money to help him pay his fine. He seemed to be wryly accepting the next chapter of a spy's life. Instead of a medal for brilliant, selfless service, he was convicted of a misdemeanor...