Word: spouted
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...believe that any socially liberal ideas (feminism, gay rights, abortion rights) zip right down the slippery slope to cultural relativism and the moral decay of Our Great Nation. You'd have to present yourself as a martyr for defending free speech and then use your well-deserved speech to spout only intolerance. You'd have to dismiss moderate conservatives as sissies, or as closet liberals. You'd have to vehemently deny that you were actually on the fringe...
...review a Pudding show? There's not a lot to compare it to. The Pudding is a genre of its own; where else would 16 guys dress up in drag, spout scads of puns, vamp around stage for a couple of hours, and end up high-heeled and scantily clad, dancing in a kickline lifted straight out of Radio City...
...pretend that a summer of baseball solved anything. In the end, after a team party at a coach's apartment, the kids get into cars for the drive back to Cabrini, which is still a war zone. This is not the moment for uplifting oratory, and Coyle doesn't spout any. But he does offer a gentle visual image that could be taken for hope: as the cars pull away from the curb, "a dozen small hands could be seen sticking out of the windows, trying to capture...
...compose the body's structure in terms of twisting and displacement. This "Freud effect" is not unlike the quick, coarse expressiveness of Frans Hals, but less benign. A broader stroke didn't diminish the closeness of his inspection. If Velazquez had ever chosen to paint water dribbling from a spout, he might have come up with the sort of brilliant fiction about unstable, passing appearances that Freud achieved in Two Japanese Wrestlers by a Sink, 1983-87. (The "Japanese wrestlers" of the title are not real sumo contenders, but fragmentary pictures of them pinned to the wall.) There are amazing...
Around her people fill their jugs and bottles, trying to carry enough water home to get through the day. Every drain spout in the city has a collection bucket under it, and when rains come, the buckets are jealously guarded by old men and women grateful for water that does not have to be dragged up the city's steep hills. "It is all we do. We look for water. We look for wood. We try to feed the family, and then we begin the process all over again," says one woman who has struggled up the embankment with...