Word: stuffs
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...gets stranger still. Not only does dark energy swamp ordinary gravity but an invisible substance known to scientists as "dark matter" also seems to outweigh the ordinary stuff of stars, planets and people by a factor of 10 to 1. "Not only are we not at the center of the universe," University of California, Santa Cruz, astrophysical theorist Joel Primack has commented, "we aren't even made of the same stuff the universe...
...Billing himself as Rhubarb Red, Paul soon had a country-music act out of Chicago; he'd play harmonica and guitar and, between numbers, peddle rube humor. By the early '30s he was making $1000 a week at the country stuff; but in the bustling Chicago music scene there was so much more to hear and play. 'In the morning I was hillbilly, and at night I was playing jazz with Roy Eldridge, Coleman Hawkins, Nat Cole and Art Tatum.' He cut his first records in 1936, backing blues singer-pianist Georgia White as she belted out Andy Razaf...
...Sometimes, when Erik is giving a motivational speech for one of his corporate clients, such as Glaxo Wellcome or AT&T, a fat, balding middle-aged middle manager will approach him and say, "Even I wouldn't do that stuff." Erik calls it the Even I Syndrome. And he has to resist an impulse to say, "You're fat, out of shape and you smoke. Why would you even think of doing any of this stuff? Just because you can see?" Erik is not impatient or smug, but he tires of people assuming that sight will trump all other attributes...
...Erik know if the girl he was talking to was attractive. "Just because you're blind doesn't make you any more selfless or deep or anything. You're just like most guys, but you look for different things," Erik says. "Smooth skin, nice body, muscles?that stuff becomes more important." And the voice becomes paramount. "My wife has the most beautiful voice in the world," Erik says. Married in 1997, he and his wife Ellie have a one-year-old daughter, Emma...
...hotel in the middle of nowhere, like a mirage. We went in for lunch. We were the only persons in the hotel, except for the staff. They had a canned music system, and when we entered, the desk clerk rushed to the sound control panel to turn on the stuff ("Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head," a little oasis of song in the Sinai). He watched us intently, and as we passed from lobby to dining room, and I, eventually, to the men's room, the clerk switched on the speaker in that particular room in turn, so that...