Word: rage
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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...minute, when he steps into the spotlight and throws a nightlong temper tantrum, the dramatic results are explosively and corrosively alive. Whether it be Jimmy Porter (Look Back in Anger), or Archie Rice (The Entertainer), or Bill Maitland (Inadmissible Evidence), Osborne's personal mouthpiece always screams out his rage, scorn, self-pity and impotence so that an audience is held in a vise of attention. What Osborne has been able to find in himself is an astonishingly concrete symbol of the times. As Mary McCarthy once noted, "Although Osborne is no thinker, he understands the present very well, which...
...PATTERN of last month's attack on the Center for International Affairs has been writ large on the streets of Chicago this week. Most of us knew what the Weathermen were planning in Chicago, when and where the days of rage would strike. But no amount of psychic rehearsal could have prepared us for the indiscriminate violence of the Weathermen campaign...
...storms that forever rage over foreign aid have all but obscured the fact that it is a relatively recent and radical experiment in international cooperation. Only for a couple of decades have the world's richer nations observed a general commitment to help the more than 100 less developed countries that embrace two-thirds of mankind. The results have been mixed, but there have been enough signs of success to merit strong support for the experiment. Yet after a year-long study sponsored by the World Bank, an eight-member commission headed by former Canadian Prime Minister Lester...
McHarg's new book is partly a burst of rage at the lavalike flow of U.S. cities into the countryside, where city dwellers yearning for nature destroy it in the process. McHarg blames the lack of planning on the arrogance of both capitalism and Christianity, cries that man is poisoning the very biosphere that sustains him and calls for a new ecological religion based on living in harmony with nature rather than on conquering...
...been drowning, how I'd considered that I'd gone down for the third time long ago, how I've kept thrashing around in the water simply because I still felt the impulse to fight back and the tug of a distant shore, how I sat in a rage that night with the ... burden of your name pounding in my brain ... and out of what instinct did I decide to write to you? It was a gamble on an equation constructed in delirium, and it was right...