Word: sheen
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Still, it is hard to know when a flash-fire protest in a prairie will turn into something more. Surely it didn't happen when Martin Sheen called (which was on Day 5). Nor did it when the police donned riot gear, as they did on Day 7, when the President's motorcade came within 100 feet of Sheehan's ramshackle encampment. (Riot gear is casual fashion for police at protests these days, after all.) Attendance figures--about 100 by midweek--did not break any records either...
...evening,” is Ms. Howard’s thesis, which she supplements with such brilliant supporting arguments as “we can woof woof any time of day / it’s all good for me.” The unmemorable beat rolls along, all metallic sheen and Clinton-era ignorance. You forgot this song for a reason...
...walk for global nuclear disarmament. Conceived by David Mixner, a former political consultant to Gary Hart, PROpeace will be supported by a movable city of 2,500 geodesic tents and six mobile kitchens providing an estimated 3.8 million meals over the course of the march. Madonna, Rosanna Arquette, Martin Sheen, Rob Lowe and Leonard Nimoy join a mock march in PROpeace's public-service TV advertisement. About $20 million should cover costs, says Mixner, and so far about $2 million has been raised. Though 11,000 prospective marchers have received applications, some may find the path of peace too taxing...
When Sheed & Ward established a New York publishing branch, Frank used his circuit riding to recruit authors. In England, the "Pied Publishers" signed Monsignor Ronald Knox, Evelyn Waugh's favorite priest, and in America, the Rev. Fulton Sheen, for whom Wilfrid worked briefly and unenthusiastically after finishing his education at Oxford. Billing his proselytizing parents as "kings of the Catholic world from John o' Groats to Borneo," Sheed asserts they stirred up the forces that "would change the face of American Catholicism." But he never makes quite clear how; perhaps it was by sheer exuberance. In any case, the winds...
...what remains of the many-trunked Elephant 6 scene. But the market for trippy harmonics that the Georgian collective once served has been cornered for the moment by even weirder psychedelic varietals, and the mantle that rests on Barnes’ shoulders comes now with slightly dimmed rainbow-watercolor sheen and a koan-like paradox. With the collective’s founders dispersed to side projects and Powerpuff soundtracks—or, in Jeff Mangum’s case, last sighted piloting a transatlantic aeroplane somewhere near Amelia Earhart’s—does Elephant 6 still matter...