Word: sadnesses
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Dates: during 1950-1959
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...when fine wines were treated with the respect they deserved. Those were the days when the vineyard patrons of the sun-kissed Médoc district personally carried their finest Bordeaux vintages across the Channel and sold them at a Thames quayside to discriminating London vintners. "A good wine," sad Bertrand, "should have personal attention. It is a patron's duty." As spring's tender new shoots peeped from the wintry canes of his vines, Bertrand's plans were made. His own 47-foot cutter Lord Jim hung impatiently at her mooring on the Gironde. Her lockers...
...Technicolor installment on Hollywood's mountain of debt to the American Indian: after years of getting clobbered, the redskins this time win three battles in a row over the U.S. cavalry. What's more, the embattled Sioux are given Victor Mature as their peerless leader, but sad to say, when silhouetted against the sky in war paint and feathers, Mature looks more like an aggrieved turtle than an eagle of the plains...
...officials are taking sole credit for every major technical achievement. Party chiefs, rather than scientific experts, boss Red China's biggest projects, e.g., the taming of the Hwai River, with a resulting emphasis on hand labor rather than new machines. Concludes the M.I.T. survey: "It is a sad day for the 'bourgeois scientists,' who must sit inactively watching the wastefulness of the Communist method of organizing masses to perform unskilled tasks...
...Institute for Advanced Studies. At a glance, the little man could have been the caretaker or a gardener. He puffed meekly at his pipe; he sidled in quietly; he seldom spoke unless spoken to. But on a second look, a rare quality seemed to glow in that sad and wizened face, with its disordered halo of white hair and its soulful brown eyes. The quality was genius, a compound of soaring intellect and wide-ranging imagination that had carried Albert Einstein past the confines of man's old scientific certitudes and deeper into the material mysteries of the universe...
...come will be the choice of adjectives. "Brilliant" pretty well covers the production, but no one word is enough. Kurt Weill and Bert Brecht's composition is also beautiful and funny and splendid. A greatness of the opera lies in the fact that it is contrapuntally ugly and sad and tawdry. It is the grinning beggar on the street who wants to amuse but gets a raw pleasure from turning his check to show scars or festering gashes...