Word: shudder
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...shudder to think of these murderers as human beings, but they do share that distinction with the rest of us. What separates a serial rapist from the man in the office cubicle next to him? Society has tried to weed these people out with tougher prison sentences and sex-offender registry laws, but people are still dying horrible deaths and living brutalized lives. Only those convicted show up on the government's radar screen. The rest go undetected...
...that said, however, High Art grabs our interest early and holds our attention almost throughout. The almost hypnotic effect of the picture springs partly from the rich, percussive soundtrack composed by Shudder To Think, but more credit belongs to the trio of actresses at the center of the narrative. Mitchell has the largest role, and she nicely manages the role of the seeming innocent drawn so far into this circle of sirens that her presence creates tensions felt by the whole group. Clarkson impresses mightily as Greta, whose mordant wit is an obvious retort to a life and a lover...
...phone with me were quite reassuring. They said that they were still working on things, that they were busy but would soon get around to it, that they would call me "at the beginning of next week." In my mind, the beginning of a week ends with Wednesday. I shudder to recall the number of melancholy Thursday mornings I spent in abject disappointment...
...techno-spooks on the ground who are cracking encryption codes and breaking into buildings overseas to plant bugs or parking themselves outside in vans to listen in on phone calls surreptitiously with high-tech electronic gear. No wonder the CIA heaved a collective shudder last week when one of its boys from S&T was accused of passing on secrets he had learned to foreign governments...
...self-respecting Southern restaurant would shudder at the thought of portabella mushrooms and goat cheese. Any self-respecting Southern restaurant would put mesclun greens on its menu only under the very threat of death. However, this is Cambridge, where Ralph Waldo Emerson proclaimed John Brown a saint for his raid on Harper's Ferry and where the Mason-Dixon feels about as far south as the equator. Around here, good Southern cooking is as hard to find as the old Stars and Bars. But who really cares, when the result of a fusion of Southern and yuppie cuisine...