Word: soullessness
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Dates: during 1980-1989
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Love the movie and damn all those who don't as soulless swine. Hate it and call it Field of Corn. But appreciate the care and assurance with which it was made. And grant this, that in a time when movies and politicians win approval by dodging the big awful issues, Field of Dreams engineers a head-on collision with things that matter: the desperate competition between fathers and sons, the need for '60s idealism in the me-first '80s, the desire for reconciliation beyond the grave. In a dialogue between Mann and Ray as they approach the ball park...
...other potential 1992 candidates. Richard Gephardt and, to a lesser extent, Al Gore are strengthened by the perception that they would have run stronger races than Dukakis did. Bill Bradley remains as beguiling as ever, and Mario Cuomo stands ready to prove that not all Northeastern ethnic Governors are soulless technocrats. Maybe 1992 will be the year the Democrats shake off their presidential curse. Or maybe the party is just doomed to wander in the wilderness until President Dan Quayle runs for a second term...
...conspicuous as the flaws of Bush and Dukakis may be, it would be a serious mistake to blame the soulless cynicism of 1988 entirely on the character of the two nominees. There are deeper forces at work as well, and understanding them may be the only way to prevent the 1992 race from becoming so ugly that it will even make voters nostalgic for this year's second debate. The collective responsibility for the sour campaign rests with what might be called the Five P's of Poison-Ivy Politics: the public, the process, the packagers, the polls...
...debate, Bush smiled and said, "Wouldn't it be nice to be the Ice Man, so you never make a mistake?" His aides later christened the contest the Nice Man vs. the Ice Man. The idea was to portray Bush's occasional goofiness as engaging, and Dukakis' competence as soulless...
...mouth widened into a toothy grin. From the moment he ascended the multi-tiered podium in Atlanta, before he uttered a single syllable, the Democratic nominee seemed a man transformed. Punching the air in triumph, blowing kisses to his wife: these were not the metronomic gestures of a soulless technocrat. Could that be Michael Dukakis, the unflappable exponent of cool reason, choking on his words? Yes, there was a catch in his throat as he said softly that tonight his dead father Panos "would be very proud...