Word: sprayings
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...market, had a close friend who was seriously injured in an auto wreck (though not through any fault of Detroit: the friend fell asleep at the wheel). Later, he was horrified during his undergraduate years at Princeton when songbirds on the campus began dying as a result of DDT spray-long before Rachel Carson's Silent Spring raised an anti-pesticide furor...
...infected areas as fast as they can shoot. More than 280,000 cows, bulls, sheep and pigs have already been slaughtered. Tractors pull the piles of carcasses to massive graves, and the pyres of burning animals nightly throw their smoke into the Shropshire sky. Soldiers and airmen have sprayed thousands of gallons of disinfectant on farms not yet hit by the plague, and at the border between infected and "clean" areas police prevent animals from crossing roads and carefully spray the tires of all passing vehicles in hopes of containing the epidemic. Horse racing and livestock shows have been canceled...
Next day, still intent on shutting down the induction center, the crowd defied police orders to move out and was subdued by a flying wedge of helmeted patrolmen wielding billy clubs and squirt guns loaded with Mace-a chemical crowd-dispersal spray that stings, sickens and temporarily blinds anyone it hits in the face. Shattered and shaken, the dissenters broke and ran, leaving bloody-headed buddies-and a dozen hapless newsmen-crumpled in the streets. The picketers resumed their vigil, forcing the draft center to bus its inductees right to the door, then double-time the soldiers-to-be through...
Fearful that forces guarding the Pentagon would spray them with Mace, the hippies concocted a counterspray called lysergic acid crypto ethylene (LACE). Purportedly a purplish aphrodisiac brewed by the flipped-out pharmacist of hippiedom, Augustus Owsley Stanley III, LACE "makes you want to take off your clothes, kiss people and make love." Other hippie plots included jamming gun barrels with flowers and an attempt to "kidnap L.B.J. while wrestling him to the ground and pulling his pants off. We will attack with noisemakers, water pistols, marbles, bubble-gum wrappers and bazookas. Sorcerers, swamis, priests, warlocks, rabbis, gurus, witches, alchemists, speed...
Though Robbie D, a skinny, goateed chap who looks vaguely like a molting broom, is only 20, most of the rock jockeys are pushing 30. Their natural habitat is the "jock booth," where, surrounded by stacks of 45-r.p.m. records, they suck on lemons, spray their throats, turn the treble up and the bass down, and wail. During an average three-hour program, they cram in six five-minute newscasts, twelve station breaks, 35 records and 54 commercials...