Word: sock
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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...graduate in political science from the University of Iowa, who spent a month in Viet Nam and captures the grime of the war. "You're always soaked, always miserable," he writes, describing the infantryman's lot, plodding through mud and swamps. "Your boots stink and your socks rot-and your feet rot if you aren't careful." Which goes to prove that there's more to say about one rotten sock in Viet Nam than a whole discotheque full of electric dresses...
Visually, the Burton Faustus is a darkling carnival of skeletons, candles, caves and necromancy, tricked out with such cinematic hocus-pocus as action shots montaged into a skull's eye sock et and heartbeats lub-dubbed onto the sound track. There is even a bit of bor rowing here too: a film clip of the magnificent charge of the French knights at Agincourt from Olivier's Henry V inexplicably turns up, and it is easily the best thing in the movie...
...with the cocky glide of a golfer who has just knocked off three birdies for a 68 and nailed Arnold Palmer to the clubhouse door. The crooked grin spreads wide, the clear brown eyes stay cool, and the audience roars its welcome; they can hardly wait for Hope to sock it to them. And so he does. Five, six gags a minute. Pertinent, impertinent, leering, perishing. And sometimes plopping, but only for an instant. When he misses, the famous scooped snoot shoots defiantly skyward, the prognathous jaw drops in mock anguish, or he goes into a stop-action freeze. Sometimes...
...Umph! And there is no escaping them; they rock around the ticktock. At 6 a.m. each weekday, several thousand Baltimoreans begin their day with a chorus of earsplitting chimes and 300-lb. Fat Daddy shouting: "Hear me now! Let me sock it to ya, Momma! From the depths of a fat man's soul, a golden oldie from outa the past with a star-studded cast! A WWIN radio blast! Shep and the Heartbeats! Eeetiddlydee! Come...
...ironfisted curfew. Earlier this month, the Groppians paraded through the Polish-dominated South Side and were met by abuse, firecrackers, beer cans and rage. Last week, while Groppi lay ill with summer flu and exhaustion, 80 of his stalwarts descended on the mayor's office, chanting "Sock it to me, Black Power" and "Mayor Maier, you punk!" For four hours, while cops stood by passively under orders from Maier to keep their cool, the commandos waited for a mayoral appearance. Then, in an outburst of pique, they ripped up leather chairs, dumped drawers on the floor, and defaced...