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Priest, directed by Antonia Bird, is sensational only in its content. At heart it is a TV drama with a one-track mind; Jimmy McGovern's script has no fewer than four scenes in which someone intrudes on a couple's sexual intimacy. Bird cues every emotion with spell-it-out reaction shots and a soupy sound track. What movie dares use You'll Never Walk Alone with no irony? Priest does, which is one reason why it leaves fat, hot tears on many spectators' faces. The film delivers on its promise to edify at any cost...
...immediately introduce her to someone who greets me, she takes that I've forgotten their name and introduces herself. Fortunately, my boyfriend has the same name as my roommate's long-time significant other, so I remember his name fairly well. (It helps that "Chris" is relatively easy to spell and pronounce.) Cosmo and Vogue may not realize it, but for non-together people, the name recognition factor can be significant in the search for the perfect mate...
...taxpayers making less than $95,000 a year. Otherwise, they argued, the credit would go to anyone making up to $200,000--hardly just the middle class. Perhaps worse, it would also amount to a backdoor raise for members of Congress, who make $133,600 a year. That could spell political demise...
Just whose land is it anyway? in the West that question is pitting citizens, counties and states against the Federal Government--in more ways than one. Two weeks ago, Roundup, Montana, saw more action than it has in quite a spell. The first arrests took place when two men showed up at the sheriff's office and tried to file some homespun legal papers on behalf of their fellow "freemen," a loose group that opposes taxes, gun restrictions and federal regulation. Both were arrested for carrying concealed weapons. Then three more men drove up to the office, and one opened...
...ages, socio-economic classes and questionable moral standards. However, unlike Let's Go, sometimes I make mistakes. I must apologize to all my Francophilic readers who were offended by last week's misspelling of Eiffel. I was so enamored with my memories of Jacques, I neglected to use my spell-checker. It seems like I can solve everyone else's problems but my own. Once again, I awoke this morning alone, surrounded by piles of reader mail. I wish I had a "George" like my friend in Leverett. What about Norma's needs...