Word: stick
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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...song. Singing scenes, like fight and dance scenes, in Ford show group activity in which each person's behavior is laid down by tradition. A fight scene in The Searchers (1956), for example, gives participants and spectators secure roles. The tension generated when one man picks up a stick of wood turns into warmth and humor when he sets it as a boundary marker. No such security comes from the sequence in How Green: Ford cuts from one face to another, showing his characters straining to create song as if for the first time. All the film's shots...
Some bodies, of course, are better off concealed. Designers are unanimous in warning anyone with so much as an extra pound of flesh to stick to the old shirtdress. Steven Brody, one of the innovators of the Cadoro breastplate (see color pages), recalls with disdain an overendowed woman in a see-through blouse: "It was not appetizing. There she was, just bouncing along. Flippety flop." Designer Jon Haggins, himself a slim, trim 165 Ibs., adds that "our customer has to be between 19 and 35, with a firm body, not absolutely flat and not busty either...
Then came the disasterous third quarter. The Indians' Carl Andros, using a deep stick, rolled in one goal. Another one scored as players fought for the ball in front of the Crimson net, and Dartmouth's fifth tally came on a mysterious shot which went in as the cage came loose from its anchorings. The next two scores were more orthodox, and the Indian...
...directed at their positions. And they're not really people; they're troops. They aren't even dead men; only body counts. And the degree of deadness isn't always too bad; sometimes it's light or moderate instead of heavy. We'll stick it out because it's a question of honor and thank God we only hear about it once a day, and then it's quickly followed by some broad telling you how groovy some gasoline is and how you can get laid practically as much as you want...
...clean? If you haven't been too nervous, if you haven't forgotten, if you aren't jumping from foot to foot, then the calmness of extreme pathology has come over you, the worm of murder in your mouth, then you remembered to bolt the door, to boil the stick; what a laugh you have, man! What a weird cat would like the way you laugh! Colors mean nothing to you; the flying Byrds, the opening Doors, the Rolling Stones, they are nothing at all for you--that's it! Here it is. Welcome...