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...president of the Republic of Iraq." He took umbrage when the judge suggested he was, in fact, the "former" president of Iraq, interjecting that this was the judge's interpretation, not his own. Once the hearing was over, two guards moved to take his arms. He shook them off and engaged in a tense stare down with them before he finally exited the dock flanked by guards, but untouched. Once outside the room, Saddam turned to the chief guard and said: "I am the President of Iraq. You can't grab me like that...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Inside Saddam's Defense Strategy | 10/19/2005 | See Source »

...better three of them in front of me traded elbow nudges and head nods. One wore white, the other black, and the third stepped back as if to judge. A duel ensued.The soldier in black stood a few inches taller. She churned her arms, dropped her head and shook it side-to-side when the notes from “It’s 5!” charged off the stage, horns ablaze. Her hands shot upward with the high notes. Her hips hesitated (all style) on the offbeat. Her eyes opened only at the end of the song...

Author: By Adam C. Estes, CRIMSON STAFF WRITER | Title: Helsinki Rocks Middle East | 10/13/2005 | See Source »

After the legislative victories of 1964, Perkins said, he left his hometown for Vietnam, from which he returned, years later, a different person. At this point, he turned to Matt and Andrew. “You veterans?” he asked. Startled, they shook their heads no. He continued. Though he had been trained in King’s nonviolence methods, Vietnam radicalized Perkins. Just as he was about to join Black Power, Perkins said, he had a change of heart and got married instead. The marriage lasted 30 pleasant years; when it ended, he said, he turned...

Author: By Elizabeth W. Green, CRIMSON STAFF WRITER | Title: An Unintentional Education | 9/29/2005 | See Source »

Wearing exactly zero cowboy hats between them, they said goodbye to the stranger, shook his hand, and accepted his offer of luck. Not that they needed...

Author: By Elizabeth W. Green, CRIMSON STAFF WRITER | Title: Eight Weeks in America | 9/29/2005 | See Source »

...Good As I Once Was.” His high was deflating. Sipping a Budweiser, he stood up and stared at the front. The song ended and another one came on. It was not “As Good As I Once Was.” Matt shook his head and retreated to the bathroom, resigned. He did not expect to make any conversation when, from his right, a growling voice: “Today is my 53rd birthday.” It was the unshaven Vietnam vet, sickly thin, in an old t-shirt and a worn-down...

Author: By Elizabeth W. Green, CRIMSON STAFF WRITER | Title: Eight Weeks in America | 9/29/2005 | See Source »

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