Word: roofs
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...their wrathful pounding, so System of a Down, an Armenian-American metal band, is as refreshing as a whiff of shish kebab in a Burger King. Its music has a near Eastern feel, a sound akin to what Metallica might produce in a revival of Fiddler on the Roof. Moreover, the band knows raunchy from bad: drug dealers and groupies get their due tongue lashings. Best of all, the group keeps most songs under three minutes, a suitable dose of new metal for ears still traumatized by old metal's five-minute guitar solos...
...mood on the roof was languid. Our heavily armed escorts forgot about their weapons and engaged in the usual journalist-watching - it's sitting up, it's lying down, it's playing with a computer. Patrick Forestier of Paris-Match had a sudden, rare urge to do some work, became disoriented, and tried to interview Franchetti, mistaking him in the dark for a mujahideen. There really are Taliban all around, I had to keep reminding myself, but no one seems to care...
...midnight we had tired of the roof. Khademudin seemed relieved, and announced he would drive back with us. On the way back down, this time thank God with the headlights on, we caught a rabbit in our beams. Khdemudin moved unexpectedly fast, grabbing his AK 47 and bounding out of the minivan, gun cocked. I watched with interest, wondering how much would be left of a bunny shot at close range with an assault rifle. It escaped...
...writing more for readers in this case, trying not to limit my imagination to what is easily feasible on stage. I mean, there are some theaters that can have a room from Versailles fall from the roof but those are not theaters I am going to have access to. With readers you have no limits, they can imagine anything. That makes this a little closer to a novel—it’s useful not to have practical limits. It makes this piece unperformable but I think that’s okay...
...This weekend I walked down from the roof and sat on our building?s stoop, occasionally helping folks who stopped to ask, ?Where?s the World Trade Center?? (Well, two months ago, it was right down there.) There was brisk and heavy foot traffic, mostly parents and their kids visiting Manhattan?s own theme park of death and remembrance. A mother and daughter walked north wearing particle masks. Two women passing them shot them a stern look, as if to say, ?This ain?t no stinkin? biohazard zone,? and the mother turned to argue, then kept walking away. Another family...