Word: sanding
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Dates: during 1980-1989
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...this elegant and glowing memoir, Lance Morrow sifts time like sand in an hourglass, revisiting the places and stations of his life. They are brilliantly specific, but they resonate far beyond their locales. In Washington, "politics, elections, chicaneries flowed through private conversation . . . marinated in Scotch and cigarette smoke," and the boy immediately associates tobacco with wisdom and maturity. At Harvard, a fellow student tells him Schopenhauer, the ultimate pessimist, " 'knows the way life is' . . . life was painful. 'No,' I would say. 'Life is not like that at all.' I was terrified that it might...
...interesting psychedelic experience, without drugs, while reading Blake. It was an auditory hallucination of his voice pronouncing "the sunflower and the sick rose." Years later I began working with that to extrapolate tunes and melodies from those tones. I tried to reconstruct what it sounded like when Black orignally sand those words...
Mansfield'sand Murray's New Right perspective on affirmative action is also ill-informed about the American political process. For one thing, practices akin to affirmative action are not without precedent, past and present, in American social and political patterns. These might be called defacto affirmative action. Sometimes these practices--practices that modify and circumvent the so-called natural forces of the market place--are political, and at other times they take the form of "social power" and are thus covert or informally political. Since the Civil War, politics in American counties, cities, states and at the federal level have...
...Perched on the animal's back are Adela Quested, a quietly adventurous young lady from Britain and her escort, the eager-to-please Indian Dr. Aziz. Suddenly, both beast and humans are dwarfed on the screen to a mere splotch that makes its slow progress against a range of sand-colored rocks, massive and bulbous against the still blue...
...album. It is all out front, easy enough to hear: grandiloquent dance songs with pastiche lyrics, bass lines tough as marching orders and electronic production so enveloping that listening to the music becomes an almost suffocating physical experience, like being buried up to the ears in singing sand. But for those with a more fanciful turn of mind, the folks bringing us Frankie Goes to Hollywood, the newest in an apparently seasonal series of pop apocalypses imported from England, have provided a graphic rendering of the formula right on the sleeve of their new album, Welcome to the Pleasuredome. Follow...