Word: spats
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...happened. The perfect way both to fight for one's rights and at the same time to convince one's opponent that one is not an uncontrolled savage, is to fight, to resist--non-violently. The pictures and stories of Negroes at lunch counters and on picket lines, being spat upon, cursed, struck, beaten, dragged away and yet never speaking back, never lifting a limb in self-defense--this "new Negro" broke the image of slovenly, slap-happy, sex-and violence- ridden Sambo, and dramatically demonstrated his commitment to middle class ethics...
...shouted: "I am not prepared to see my loved ones go up in radioactive dust so that we should act as a lightning conductor-as decoy duck-to draw enemy fire on our heads to divert it from New York and Chicago." In some replies to Gaitskellites, "NATO" was spat out like a dirty word. Fiery Michael Foot demanded that imperial Britain, to avoid obliteration, should become a neutralist country "like India, Indonesia, Egypt, Yugoslavia, Ghana...
...26th birthday-and it ended up in a neurological clinic in Nice, where the diagnosis was barbiturate poisoning, plus slight wrist lacerations. Brigitte's periodically estranged husband, Cinemactor Jacques Charrier, far off on the other side of Southern France, in Biarritz, where he had gone after their latest spat, jumped in a car to drive to her side. At week's end the aging "Sex Kitten" of French moviedom was recovering. Paris' deadly serious Le Monde, customarily oblivious to BB, accorded her a sort of ghoulish obituary-in-life: "Once upon a time there was a starlet...
...That is America," spat Khrushchev derisively. "The supreme culture! It's shameful! I ask you, have you seen or heard anything like that in our country?" From NBC's onetime Moscow Commentator Joseph Michaels came the reply: "What about the demonstration in front of the American embassy in Moscow a few years back? Here there are only 100 demonstrators. There it was 100,000!" Khrushchev shot back: "Yes, we could have made it 200,000 or a million! That was in reply to the one here! In our country it's a tooth for a tooth...
Curtain Lines. The mayor and the aldermen sided with Earl. He himself scuffled his cowboy boots in the dust, spat through tobacco-stained teeth and stayed on the job. So far he has only collected $9 in fines, but he has no intention of quitting his flashlight-and-pistol technique, or his job. "They threatened to kill me Saturday night," he drawls. "At least three times they've tried to run me over when I was on foot. I'll tell you, the only way I'm going to leave is if the town fires...