Word: scum
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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...River, which flows directly into Lake Erie. The Cuyahoga River, which runs through the middle of Akron and Cleveland before spilling into the lake, is so clogged with logs, rotted pilings, flammable chemicals, oil slicks and old tires that it has been labeled a fire hazard. Adding to the scum and stench are thousands of dead fish that were smothered by the pollution. On a cruise up the Buffalo River last summer, Buffalo Mayor Chester Kowal slid past islands of detergents, pools of grain dust, and a general rainbow of industrial discharge. The stink was overpowering. "Unbelievable! Disgusting!" he concluded...
Growers bitterly complained that Americans would not do the menial stooping labor, that the only non-Mexican workers they could get were drunks and incompetents. "They want us to go to Los Angeles and screen scum," charged Jack Tabata, who last month plowed under twelve acres of his Orange County strawberry field in a well-publicized protest against the Government's refusal to lower the bars to braceros. Tabata also sent Labor Secretary W. Willard Wirtz a tray of bruised berries, picked, he said, by a worker supplied by the Labor Department...
Through an accident of onomatopoeia, the Rann of Kutch* looks just like it sounds. A reeking reach of black tidal mudflats bounded with sand dunes and etched by dead streams of salt and scum, it was until recently of interest only to hardy naturalists in search of the lesser flamingo and herds of wild asses. But the Rann separates India and Pakistan, and that fact alone was sufficient last week to make it another of the world's dangerous little flash points...
...Pawnbroker. In his murky, cluttered shop in Spanish Harlem's upper depths, Sol Nazerman sits behind a wire partition coldly doling out pittances to the people he calls "scum and rejects." Hopefully, they come to hock personal or stolen goods. They look to the old Jew for understanding, or even a fair price, and see the eyes of a man whose last links to life were cruelly severed decades ago in a Nazi concentration camp. Now he speaks of those days as if he were carving an epitaph: "Everything I loved was taken from me, and I didn...
...style is TRB's elegantly folksy column, which invariably eschews logic and statistics to come right to the point. Even when the point is a tired one, the freshness of TRB's verbal stream brings new clarity to the matter by rinsing away all the moss and scum of confusion: "Maybe it's unfortunate, but about the only counterweight the little man has to Big Business is Big Government; the record of the century is that business has grown big first, with government limping along behind...