Word: primal
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Dates: during 1990-1999
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...Though his protagonists live in clean, secular Toronto, they carry around the primal ties and cycles of guilt that belong to the other side of the globe and leave them in half shadow...
...wind blowing through the pines, boots crunching through crusty snow, the howl of a coyote in the distance. Hunting is an atavistic thrill: staking out a spot in the virtual woods and waiting quietly for a buck; centering it in the crosshairs and shooting it were satisfying in a primal, I-eat-meat kind of way. I preferred the GT titles. Deer Hunter II was more straightforward and easier to play out of the box. But HeadGame's Big Game Hunter had the best graphics and was more faithful to ethical hunting, rewarding players who practice safe shooting...
...fast-changing industry, Watson promoted "scratchy, harsh" individuals and pressured them to think ahead. (When IBM engineers complained that transistors were unreliable, Watson handed out transistor radios and challenged the critics to wear them out.) He never backed away from conflict, not even what he called "savage, primal and unstoppable" fights with his father over issues like finance. He installed a "contention" system that encouraged IBM managers to challenge one another. Watson was paternal with rank-and-file employees, but he was murder on his lieutenants, in accordance with his dictum that "the higher the monkey climbs, the more...
Well, it's stuff for modern kids: the ones who are primal enough to giggle at a peepee rainbow (created by infants in a nursery) and the "pooped in his pantsie" jokes, yet canny enough to finish the film's sentence "Born under Venus, look for a..." In the catchy newborn nursery anthem This World Is Something New to Me, kids may understand the line "This world is such a gas!" followed by an impolite noise, and the baleful "I can barely hear myself suck!" but not the pouty "I miss my old womb," and maybe not the exchange between...
...wait until schmoozing with a client on a Maine hunting lease to accrue tracking abilities when a multitude of outfitters abound in the New England states? While more dainty Harvardians might disdain a mass of blood-encrusted feathers on their Prada bird bag, there's nothing quite like the primal gratification of winning a hard-fought battle with a wily fox. And this fundamental desire explains why, in an age of manufactured food and General Wong's Chicken, people still return to the backcountry's ancient forests and pristine streams...