Word: shudderously
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Strait-Jacket. Joan Crawford cuts loose in a sanguinary shudder-show that suffers from a split personality. It was written by Robert Bloch (Psycho), but screams for the sure hand of Hitchcock; it aspires to the Grand Guignol of Baby Jane, but falls short of being droll. Yet despite foolish dialogue, blunt direction, and a fustian plot, there are moments of breath-stopping terror as the heads roll, at times almost literally...
...results, though the voting will not end until this week. Except for a few dissenters, most citizens were expected to rubber-stamp the proposals. There was, after all, that sizable herd of Osagyefo-worshippers who received fresh inspiration from the Ghanaian Times writer who recently confessed: "I shudder when I think of the greatness of the Great One. And so let the world know, and the word go forth, that indeed we do have a miracle called Kwame Nkrumah who walks the face of Africa today...
Rocks & Towers. Purists scoff at preserve hunting ("Like shooting in the city zoo," says a Colorado gunner), and Natty Bumppo would shudder at the way some owners operate. Most preserves bill hunters only for birds and animals actually shot (from $3.50 for a pheasant, up to $600 for a European red stag)-so the more killed, the merrier. To accommodate lazy patrons, owners will "rock" pheasants and chukars, tucking their heads under their wings and spinning them around until they are too dizzy to fly properly; some birds are so groggy that hunters have to kick them into...
...early discoverers shudder to think that Vallarta may go the way of Acapulco-even though they will be able to sell out handsomely as they move on to the next "undiscovered" spot. This appears to be a place called Yelapa, 20 miles down the coast, where half a dozen American settlers have already set up housekeeping. "When we first came," recalls a retired American woman in Puerto Vallarta, "you could hear parrots from the mountains at night. You can't hear them any more." But to the Mexicans, the clang of cash registers makes...
...nothing but a play of light," said Rosso, and to let it play, he used a material most sculptors would shudder at-wax. Rosso built up his figures in clay first, cast them in bronze, or in plaster which he then coated with warm translucent wax thick enough to let him lightly edit the original version. Increasingly he left his sculptures as mere impressions, with fewer and fewer fine details, submerging behind veils of light. In one of his last busts, Madame X, barely more than a lopsided oval of wax, Rosso nearly dismisses the tactile world entirely. The mystery...