Word: slummed
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Pasolini's violent murder in a Roman slum immortalized the artist. One critic referred to him as "St. Pier Paolo: Homosexual and Martyr," and most considered his final film, the bizarre and disturbing "Salo," strangely prophetic. It represents the enigmatic end of a tumultuous artistic career and, as Pasolini's 1959 novel proclaimed in its title, A Violent Life. "Mamma Roma" is far more typical than his last film, of the mix of politics and poetry, of ideology and of sentiment, which characterizes most of Pasolini's work. Its magnificent cinematography and superb acting make it a pleasure...
...bizarre non-sequiturs inserted into the lyrics, seemingly only for shock value. In the opening bars of the third track, "Heroine," Anderson sings, "She walks in beauty like the night/Discarding her clothes in the plastic flowers/ Pornographic and tragic in black and white/ My Marilyn come to my slum for an hour." While some might deem this cacophony of metaphors poetic, the sheer blender-mixed quality disturbs the song's coherence. This choppiness makes it difficult the type of emotional kinship that seems to be the band's goal...
...power rests in the word, not the sword. As he has demonstrated throughout the 16 years of his papacy, John Paul needs no divisions. He is an army of one, and his empire is both as ethereal and as ubiquitous as the soul. In a slum in Nairobi, Mary Kamati is dying of AIDS. In her mud house hangs a portrait of John Paul. "This is the only Pope who has come to this part of the world," she says. During his most recent visit, he sprinkled her with holy water. "That," she says, eyes trembling...
...above him is his bishop (Richard Pasco), also faithless but fiercely insistent that his priests honor tradition. Below and to the left of Espy is young Tony Ferris (Adam Kotz), in whom ambition and evangelical zealotry are so dangerously, neurotically mixed. As pastor of a dwindling and dissatisfied slum parish, Espy can find no useful support among colleagues whose responses to the modern spiritual crisis range from inane denial to tormented atheism...
Great expectations bewitch the slum of Cite Soleil. Markets and workshops are springing up as residents revel in their release from fear. People are chipping in pennies to buy paint and new fluorescent lights to spruce up their decrepit neighborhood. "Since he is the President of the people, I'm sure he won't leave us in the street," says Tiol Losa, a carpenter whose home was one of 1,300 leveled last December by soldiers who tore through the neighborhood on a rampage of revenge. "When Aristide comes, we'll be able to eat," says Mona Numa, a mother...