Word: se
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...grateful Mayenne placed a wreath at the bridge's center. Then the town built a marble monument, bearing an image of McRacken's face and the legend: "Ici pour sauver ce pout, James McRacken, 315 Bataillon, U.S.A., se sacrifia le cinq Août, 1944." President Truman sent a message for its dedication; General Charles de Gaulle knelt to place a floral Cross of Lorraine. Through the years, schoolchildren replaced the flowers as they withered. Each Aug. 5, the residents followed their mayor to the bridge to pay their somber respects to Jim McRacken. Each Christmas, they sent...
...anti-jockism at Harvard is as bad as anti-intellectualism; neither type of personality under attack really exists per se at Harvard, and there is no reason why a varsity athlete can't dispel the erroneous triad of stero-types by joining a final club and getting A's. To those who ask "What the hell are you doing down at that wet, muddy field with a bunch of robot-animals when you could be expanding your knowledge by reading or studying?" the athlete can reply "Accumulating a college experience" with as much validity and pride as a member...
...There is less interest in the patient's intellectual understanding of his emotional processes (which made every patient an amateur analyst), and more emphasis on the emotional experience of the analysis per se...
Organized Sound. Varèse achieves his effects by recording sounds on tape; then, with the aid of complex electronic equipment, he breaks the sounds apart, amplifies and filters them. He picked up his offbeat skills almost by indirection: his father, a Paris engineer, was so set upon an engineering rather than a musical career for his son that he kept the family piano locked. Varèse studied mathematics, taught himself music on the side, eventually got into the Paris Conservatory as a composition student. In 1915 he moved to New York, soon formed a little-appreciated orchestra devoted...
...painstaking worker ("The first instrument is the wastebasket"), Varèse creates his "organized sound" in a studio in Greenwich Village surrounded by the tools of his trade: gongs, sirens, whistles, drums. He is convinced that electronic music is clearly the music of the future, but he does not expect it to make more conventional composition obsolete ("Just because there are other ways of getting there, you do not kill the horse"). Still living modestly ("I am not an expensive animal"), he is as rigidly indifferent to the reactions of the public as he ever was. "My privilege," says Edgard...