Word: slaughtering
(lookup in dictionary)
(lookup stats)
Dates: during 1970-1979
Sort By: most recent first
(reverse)
...were describing an apparent popular revulsion against the war, antiwar activists had no reason for optimism. When Lyndon Johnson was pulling the strings, and American soldiers were falling by the thousands, it was clear the war would end sooner or later. Americans would not send their sons to the slaughter indefinitely. But the Nixon nightmare of Vietnamization, which extracts the Americans and then incinerates the region, makes that confidence obsolete. This war can go on forever. Or until a nation and a culture are reduced to ash and rubble...
...official. Bertucelli persuaded the inhabitants of a remote village-who had never seen a motion-picture camera-to perform their lives without a trace of self-consciousness or restraint. As a result, watching Ramparts of Clay is like looking at the sun-almost unendurable for long. The ritual slaughter of a ram, for instance, becomes a cataract of blood and pain...
...sharp and frequently funny scenario is by Daniel Taradash, who cannily undercuts the elephantine melodramatics of Frank G. Slaughter's original novel with some fleet and biting dialogue of his own. He and Director George Schaefer let audiences know they are not quite serious. The story concerns itself with the sordid vagaries of a small group of California physicians and their spouses. The husbands have their mistresses, the wives their lovers, and both share a set of suburban hangups that would stagger the late Grace Metalious. The game of musical beds ends when one of the doctors finds...
...complain that you don't divide along political lines, Mr. Huntington, but why don't you ever try moral lines. (Isn't it incredible that mentioning morality should instantly consign one to the realms of the banal?) Political lines. So it looks as if old Henry, fresh from the slaughter of hundreds of thousands of Asians fighting for their right to self-determination, will come back here to bask in the glow of adoring undergraduates and (mostly) graduate students. What kind of people are these? What kind of person am I that I talk civilly to them...
...loss of innocence. I came here, very naively, to find a glittering community of moral (though perhaps misguided) men and women. I found a cesspool of egomaniacs who are far more interested in themselves, Art, Science, Zen, Catholicism or marijuana than they are in stopping the slaughter we are committing over there. And I found that I was one of them. I came to the right place. Not better or worse than other places, perhaps, but cosmically bigger. Other places aspire to produce Henry Kissingers...