Word: rosee
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Dates: during 1980-1989
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...civilian "pacification officer" for the Agency for International Development. He opposed Westmoreland's attrition strategy because he believed it resulted in needless U.S. and Vietnamese casualties. The U.S., he argued, should reform the corrupt Saigon regime and woo the peasantry. Despite his role as gadfly, Vann rose through the system, ultimately becoming the top U.S. adviser for central Viet Nam and the first civilian, according to Sheehan, ever to command U.S. troops in wartime...
...history of literature. (This story decidedly did not appear in The New Yorker.) For page after page a Harvard undergraduate named Wiley tries to bring his stubbornly unresponsive girlfriend to orgasm: "The whitish bubbling, the splash of her discontinuous physical response: those waves, ah, that wake rose, curled outward, bubbled, and fell. Rose, curled outward, bubbled, and fell." Little in this prose marathon is particularly erotic or offensive; it is possible for long periods of time to forget entirely what is supposed to be going on. The point of the exercise seems to be verbal ingenuity, coupled with the message...
...momentum is with us," boasts Father Ed Roden, a key organizer. "The people rose up; they're getting action." Change never comes nicely, Alinsky's disciples preach. Nor fast. Sister will be content if a few hundred water hookups can be made by year's end. That will be a signal the colonias are on the road to controlling their own destiny...
...NEVER PROMISED YOU A ROSE GARDEN. Quite the opposite, but everything's coming up profits anyway for doomsayer Ravi Batra, 45, the economics professor at Southern Methodist University who wrote The Great Depression of 1990. First published by a small press in 1985 and then by Simon & Schuster in June 1987, the book sold more than 500,000 copies in hard cover. His promptly produced sequel, Surviving the Great Depression of 1990, was released last month with a first printing...
Outside the terminal the wind was blowing cold, and on the horizon the skyscrapers rose up against a dark sky; it looked like the clouds were going to bowl and smash into the buildings, piling them into the harbor. I followed people with suitcases to the bus shelter and waited for the T shuttle. Across the tracks at the Blue Line stop, the woman on a temp poster had been spray painted to look like a snaggle-toothed devil; someone had even taken the trouble to climb over the third rail, draw in a penis by her mouth and scrawl...