Word: roped
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Dates: during 1950-1959
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...looked the soul of matronly dignity. One night last week, wearing a black-lace-over-taffeta dress, a rope of artificial pearls and a corsage of roses pinned demurely over her ample midriff she stepped quietly in front of Bob Scobey's Dixieland combo in Oakland's Showboat Cafe. When she let fly with Ain't Gonna Give You None of My Jelly Roll, she rocked the Showboat. She clapped her hands, snapped her fingers shuffled her feet, flapped her elbows. The singer was New Orleans' Lizzie Miles, 60 one of the last of a great...
...existentialists. In the end, a little existentialist moss clings to his rolling stone, and Camus achieves his answer: "Crushing truths perish by being acknowledged . . . There is no fate that cannot be surmounted by scorn." Sisyphus has achieved "a total absence of hope (which has nothing to do with despair)." Rope or Cravat? While it is no news, of course, that French intellectuals of the Left have left the church, a lot of people will wish that they would stop arguing so noisily on the steps. Nevertheless, Camus is an honest, deeply intelligent man of near genius, who has tried...
...basic training that the staff spends its time: trips through the rope maze to teach clumsy feet how to stop fighting each other, lessons in how to wrap ankles, and running, running, running until the 85 hopefuls are too tired for anything but skull talks. Then back for more lessons: how to cut at right angles, how to pass without knocking down the receiver, and how to center between the legs...
...Jazzman Lucky Thompson and his tenor sax to the camp for a concert. There are 200 tape-recorded hours of Lucky's music on hand at Kenwood. Progressive jazz floats incessantly through the pines and maples. "Lucky is my rhythm man," Archie explains. "He plays while I skip rope, and this makes a pulsation which keeps me in time. We're artists who appreciate each other's work...
...That looks like one of them," said the grim-faced French colon. From the six Moroccan tribesmen bound together with a single rope, he picked out a shaven-headed Berber, captured by the French Foreign Legion in the plundered shambles that had been the prosperous town of Oued Zem (pop. 4,600). A helmeted Legionnaire slapped the suspect on the head and led him out to be shot. Thus, last week began France's bloody revenge for one of the bloodiest massacres of Europeans in modern colonial history...