Word: pretenders
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...their punk violations? Nursing their own straw men. While their commercial efforts are, in the eyes of most punk rockers, ignoble, even criminal, it is hard to argue with any band who have chosen to share their music with a greater number, to spread whatever message they have (or pretend to have), rather than stroking the angsty egos of a highly insular—and an increasingly elitist and hierarchical—punk culture. They are, in a sense, punks within (or relative to) the punk culture itself—and that’s about as punk...
...sheets and her son blue. Meanwhile her son, Stefan (Sam Kessel), has introduced Anna’s son Tet (named for the Vietnam war offensive) to the joys of plastic toys. It is worth the price of admission alone to see this child, raised in a peace-loving commune, pretend to torture another child with electrodes—for fun—and it is a tribute to both the children’s skills as actors and Moodysson’s skill as a director that the scene ends up funny...
...audience that job offers might be sparse this year. She predicted that fewer companies will visit campus than in past years, and that those who do come to recruit will reduce their interview schedules. Murray explained, “In order to motivate students, we usually tell them to pretend that this job market is the worst in years. Well, this year, you won’t have to pretend.” Murray then let out a light chuckle, as if to intimate that she was half-joking. Her laughter was not contagious...
...educating and counseling kids for generations, was asked a series of questions regarding what an adult might tell a child regarding the attack. Mr. Rogers urged parents and caregivers to keep to familiar routines, limit children's TV viewing, redirect play toward "caring and nurturing themes...like making a pretend meal for the emergency helpers...
...column that I hope to write will be a silly bi-weekly romp through the pages of Glamour magazine, complete with tantrum-type rants and bizarro generalities about a magazine we all pretend not to read. I hope to add a splash of frivolity to the editorial page while putting in print the psuedo-stream of consciousness babble that echoes in the recesses of my mind. But, for obvious reasons, I found that I couldn’t jump into the intended frivolity with this, my first column. The crumpled, thumbed-through Glamour is sitting on my coffee table...