Word: shiverings
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...friends'. He would repeat tales of indiscretions and infidelities with rogueish, non-judgmental relish. He could even rejoice in another's meanness-a quality he detested-but only if it was of such spectacular proportions that it made a good story. Raconteur is a word that normally provokes a shiver of dread, but you could listen to Len all night. I never heard him stumble over a name or punchline, even when by rights he should have been stumbling over the furniture. And every tale, bawdy or screamingly funny, showed an understanding of human nature born of self-knowledge...
...celebrate his 65th birthday, do not bust out your dusty tambourine. Skip the Zimmerman bus tour of Hibbing. Instead, play those early songs again. You'll shiver at their stark profundity - at the way words, simple chords and a stray mutt's voice could combine to form an immediate and lasting legacy of pop poetry. Dylan was destined, as the beautiful lyric to "Mr. Tambourine Man" has it, "to dance beneath the diamond sky with one hand waving free." In following that fate, he taught the rest of us to dance with...
...Tony Blair, Jacques Chirac, Berlusconi and other European leaders sing a mockery of "We Are the World" (in English): "We f--- the world, / We f--- the children, / We f--- the world, the forest and the sea / So let us do it." Maybe even the Comedy Central censors would shiver at that...
...exposition, Shafrin also brings a much-needed levity to the show, with frequent paranoid references to the power of “the mafia.” He adds small touches to the role, like a drunk’s stagger or an abused child’s shiver, that make Frederick’s character fully-fleshed.Dorin (an HRDC veteran who produced last semester’s “The Alchemist”) does a fantastic job of mediating these performances and evoking a mood that is dark and Gothic, yet not totally hopeless. Dorin’s choice...
...vaguely uncomfortable, the anonymous note didn’t stop me from continuing my weekend routine. Every Friday and Saturday night, I would slap on some eyeliner, shove my feet into stilettos, find my tightest jeans, and head out to Mt. Auburn Street. My freshman clique and I would shiver on the steps while a club member looked us up and down to see if we were hot enough to get in. Inside we’d be handed alcohol by someone we usually didn’t know, dance or play beer pong, and end up making out with...