Word: robing
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Dates: during 2000-2009
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When things get tough, many Christians ask themselves, What would Jesus do? The Rev. Daniel Webster goes straight to the source: the dude with the beard, flowing hair and robe who rides shotgun in his car. "Let it play out," comes the answer from the Son of God. Then he adds, "You're tailgating...
Amidst a myriad of flasks and his “black arts” chemicals and wearing an opulent gold brocade robe, the alchemist pursues his treacherous craft. But this craft in not merely the spurious production of gold; rather, the alchemist’s true art lies is his ability to exploit human weakness. The Harvard-Radcliffe Dramatic Club’s (HRDC) masterful presentation of Jacobean dramatist Ben Jonson’s “The Alchemist” succeeds in transcending its titular seventeenth century pseudoscience to provide a humorous look at the foibles of mankind...
...hardly surprising that London's Royal Academy would mount an exhibition devoted to its art. All the riches of Chinese civilization are on display at the sumptuous "China: The Three Emperors, 1662-1795" show until mid-April: artifacts from ancient dynasties, flowing calligraphy, elaborate scrolls, magnificent dragon-decorated robes, priceless jades and ancestor paintings that represent the most important Confucian value, filial piety. In fact, the subjects of this exhibition are a father, his son and grandson - the Qing Emperors Kangxi, Yongzheng and Qianlong - who ruled the Middle Kingdom for 133 consecutive years and expanded China even beyond its present...
...love this song. It’s so chill. 2. Ken Oak Band - “Madness & Back”: Though this ain’t my favorite track on his newest album, this one still is a pretty defining piece…an angel, wings of guitars, robe of cello, voice of Ken. 3. Musiq (Soulchild) - “Girl Next Door ft. Ayana”: This counts as a throwback now, doesn’t it? Oh, 2000, never mind that. You ever have that special lady friend with who you probably would have shared your grub, depending...
...evening, the reporters were unexpectedly herded onto buses and driven to the site of the colonel's bombed-out home. There, bathed in moonlight and flanked by two recently wounded sons, sat Gaddafi's wife Safia. Clutching a crutch as her silver-trimmed black robe billowed in the stiff breeze, the usually private woman vowed to kill with her own hands the pilot who had shattered her house and to pursue eternal vengeance on all Americans "unless they give Reagan the death sentence." For all its staginess, the eerie scene was another reminder that despite last week's precautions...