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...research began after CIA officials were horrified by Jozsef Cardinal Mindszenty's vacant stare and mechanical voice at his 1949 treason trial in Budapest. Drugs and mind-control techniques had long been used by intelligence services, but the CIA feared that the Communists had made some breakthrough. By 1953, the CIA concluded that its worries were unfounded; still the research continued, despite some official misgivings...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: THE CIA: Mind-Bending Disclosures | 8/15/1977 | See Source »

Moving on to the main course, Molochkov warns: "Do not eat with your knife. Never put the knife into your mouth." It is not done, he emphasizes, to "stare intently at those around you," and in polite gatherings, "don't fidget, don't whisper, don't stare intently at furniture, pictures and other objects." For the loquacious, he counsels "don't tell old stories, jokes and anecdotes"-and for the insecure, "don't be disappointed if you think you are being ignored." One dictum might be intended for KGB operatives doing cover duty...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: The World: Marx and Manners | 7/11/1977 | See Source »

Wooden coasters feature careful pacing (a moment's hesitation at the top so that riders can stare into the abyss) and a studied mix of hills large and small, curves wrenching and free-floating...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Here Comes Summer: Those Roller Rides in the Sky | 7/4/1977 | See Source »

...hand is turning and the grinder is grinding and somewhere in between there's the owner of the hand, who is quickly turning himself into so much ground round. And over in the corner there's the suave detective, with a little moustache and a twenty-below-zero stare watching perfunctorily. Looking at the owner a weasily guy who is paying to attention to the grinder, the detective rattles in his just-the-facts-ma'am-I've-got-to-finish-my-report-before-dinner voice...

Author: By Francis J. Connolly, | Title: 'Most determined case of suicide I've ever seen' | 5/27/1977 | See Source »

...afternoon I raced down the hall, and foolishly grabbed for the closing iron-gate on the antiquated elevator. Slamming inside, and swinging the door behind me, I sensed a smell of squash rackets and straight teeth. She was there. In the elevator. With me. Well, you can only stare at the graffitti on the elevator-walls for so long, and you can only chew your shirt-collar in anxiety for so long, and you can only notice that the elevator is not moving, the elevator is not moving the elevator...

Author: By John A. Spritz, | Title: Pranks and embarrassments | 5/27/1977 | See Source »

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