Word: self
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Dates: during 1980-1989
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...loud," sang James Brown, "I'm black and I'm proud." The year was 1968, an exhilarating time of Black Pride, Black Power and slogans like "Black Is Beautiful." "Black" became more than a racial characterization; it was an assertion of social and political self-definition. The terms colored and Negro, in common use as late as 1967, were cast off as labels of second-class citizenship...
BIRD Charlie Parker, genius of modern jazz and modern self-destruction, is played with easy-gliding perfection by Forest Whitaker, and director Clint Eastwood re-creates his world in dark, romantic hues. No false notes, no easy sentiment...
...odious citizens than some of those portrayed in Blind Faith. The villain of Fatal Vision had a perverse stature and a demonic intelligence that are totally lacking in McGinniss's Robert Marshall. His fabrications and the entreaties recorded on love cassettes to his mistress suggest a ludicrous absence of self-awareness. Marshall's low animal cunning hits bottom when he exploits his sons' conflict between filial loyalty and the truth about their mother's death. McGinniss makes the Marshall boys' loss of innocence the emotional center of an otherwise lurid and coldhearted book...
Only the young and the supremely self-confident could view such a task with equanimity. For as Michael Korda sagely observed in one of his treatises on modern success, "Desks can tell us a great deal about people's power quotient." Another year shackled to a black vinyl Daily Planner would be the final indictment of the drab ordinariness of my workaday life. As my power quotient tumbled beneath even that of Michael Dukakis, gone would be those wistful dreams of a corner office and secretaries heralding my daily arrival with eager chirps of "Good morning, Mr. Shapiro...
...black vinyl stigma of inferiority would, of course, vanish instantly with the purchase of the right upscale desk accessory. These days, given the vast array of choices, selecting a personal diary has become a bold and precarious act of self-definition. It is fine for Gail Sheehy in Passages to decree that "somewhere between 35 and 45 if we let ourselves, most of us will have a full-out authenticity crisis." Sure, I know it is about time for me to decide who I really am and where I fit in the cosmos. But do I really have to grapple...