Word: puree
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...Pure Gore," which recounts an afternoon spent with Gore Vidal in his house in Rome, is a fascinating display of two clashing sensibilities. Gore's dry pessimism in the face of his own worldly and literary success strikes Harrison as pouty and ungenerous. Rejecting the usual fawning interviwer's pose, Harrison challenges and argues with Vidal. In their tense but often funny exchange, they hone their opposing philosphies...
Sure, we must have presidential leadership. But some of the greatest changes in our country were not originated by Presidents; they came about as a result of popular drives that Presidents joined, more or less, to lead. That was true of the antitrust and pure-food revolutions, of the union movement, environmental protection, auto safety, the tax revolt, civil rights, women's rights, gay rights (whatever you may think of them...
...They will rescue us from our malaise, says Clinton, because Americans don't really hate politics, we are just "fed up with failure" -- and failure is decidedly not what these two survivors are about. How could it be? Clinton and Gore lust for the pinnacle, but their motives are pure: "I tell you truthfully," said Gore with a straight face (the same Gore, by the way, who previously derided as a "political dead end" the position he now covets), "I didn't seek this . . . I didn't expect it. I'm here for one simple reason: I love my country...
SPARKY, A PIT BULLTERRIER WITH A sweet disposition, gets run over by a car, and Victor Frankenstein (Barret Oliver), his 10-year-old master, determines to revive him using a microwave and a toaster. FRANKENWEENIE sounds like pure Tim Burton, and it is. The 27-min. Disney comedy, made in 1984 and now released as a home video, marked the debut of the director of the Batman blockbusters. This ripe tale has intimations of Burton's Beetlejuice and Edward Scissorhands: the undead and a wild child sundered in suburbia. But Burton's Batmanic surrealism is plenty evident here...
...sinks and it appears that we will spend a dry and desperate night, we finally hit sandy soil -- a good sign. Soon we find elephant footprints filled with water. It looks pure, and I drink greedily. Fay's hand is so tired from hours of hacking with the machete that he cannot open the water bottle I have just filled...