Word: selfishnesses
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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During this ordeal, Quentin-Miller is agonized but strangely inhumane. In one telling scene where Maggie-Marilyn is crawling across the floor begging him to take the pills away from her, he lectures her with stony and selfish Freudian logic: "I take them; and then we fight, and then I give them up, and you take the death from me. You see what's happening? You've been setting me up for a murder...
...since she does not feel it. She (which is all the play calls her) is clever in speech, stupid about life. At long last, she wants to be her own woman, though there is no proof that she has ever really been anyone else's. The selfish mistakes of a lifetime gradually filter into her drawing room to offer comic rebuke. One son marries the spitfiery image of his mother, and the couple travels to the brink of divorce. Too little love, rather than too much, has turned another son into a mother...
Nothing so irritates Harry Bridges, now 62, as the notion that the automation agreement means that he is mellowing. Says he: "We've merely adopted a very selfish, narrow program to take care of the people in our union." Yet others insist that he really enjoys his new status. Explains Bridges' "friendly foe," Maritime Negotiator J. Paul St. Sure: "It got a little trying for him to hear all the time about what a rough s.o.b. he was. He likes his present role." Although Bridges lives in a modest two-bedroom house with his third wife Noriko...
...rare visits to the tub. A cigarette is permanently glued to his lip. His bulbous nose glows whenever he has a snootful, which is nearly every night. He has no discernible trade and lives on the dole as if he had earned it. He is selfish, improvident, coarse, arrogant and bullying. "Don't stand out there in the cold, lass," he says to his sister-in-law, come to pay a visit. "Buzz off." His name is Andy Capp, and he is the newest folk hero of the comic strips...
...calling for inaction and background financial support from the whites. We're not after country clubs or moving into exclusive suburba. We want more Negro truck drivers. Our goals are selfish and parochial; our organizational structure is undemocratic. This is the way we want to do things, and I think this is the way we have to do them. Things had better change or, I'm afraid, something will happen...