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...example, is a "serious" problem?). And what about products that do not perform tasks, like automobiles or dishwashers, but are rather made to be ingested, e la orange juice, which is featured in the February 1995 issue of CR? Isn't one person's ambrosia another person's pig swill? "We have a standard of what is good orange juice," says CR spokeswoman Rana Arons. Tasters attempt to quantify attributes such as "sweet" and "astringent." "But you'll never see in Consumer Reports anywhere, 'We like this best, this tastes good.' We never say to our testers 'what tastes best...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: EVALUATING THE BUYER'S BIBLE | 2/20/1995 | See Source »

...maybe people shouldn't swill soybean-oil cocktails just because of the Boston University report. "Give me a break," exclaims Dr. William Castelli, director of the Framingham Heart Study in Massachusetts. "This was a very, very tiny study." The observation that heart-disease patients have low levels of essential fatty acids is interesting and deserves follow-up, but it hardly provides proof of cause and effect. In time, perhaps, a more convincing link will emerge...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Is a Low-Fat Diet Risky? | 9/5/1994 | See Source »

...with relief. F usually means Friday, but better than that, final. First came the assault, then the arrests, then the wranglings in court. As the world watched with fascination, the January attack on Nancy Kerrigan fueled a media frenzy, amply supported by the public's craving for the latest swill. Checkbook journalists, dubious gurus and assorted sleaze hounds soon joined in. By the time the drama was served up cold on the Olympic rink, it had all the ingredients of a classic face-off: Kerrigan, the almost too model American miss vs. Tonya Harding, the grungy underdog whose ex-husband...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: End of the Winter's Tale | 3/7/1994 | See Source »

...sanctimoniousness, San Angeles is a fascist state. Its smooth-spoken leader, Raymond Cocteau (Nigel Hawthorne), is annoyed by a persistent band of rebels, living where such folk always do in fictions like this, in the city's underground passages. There they cook hamburgers (well, actually, they're ratburgers), swill beer and dream of cholesterol's restoration. To deal with the outlaws, Cocteau frees a killer named Simon Phoenix (Wesley Snipes) from cryogenic prison (they took to deep-freezing criminals as early as 1996, during the last convulsive phase of urban warfare). To deal with him, his wimpy cops, not knowing...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Futuristic Face-Off | 10/18/1993 | See Source »

Strolling through downtown New York is a perilous occupation. At the moment you locate yourself, a crowd of pedestrians swill you into mysterious infernos full of rapacious sellers and frisky animals. Take Greenwich Village: on the surface, a rectangular and organized area, with numerous street-signs and helpful drug-pushers; underneath, where its unconscious beats, is a crazed mass of confusion threatening all sense of direction. Start walking down a road and before long the scenery will change, historical periods will be in flux, and your brain thrown into that charged state between curiosity and insanity...

Author: NO WRITER ATTRIBUTED | Title: For the Moment | 12/10/1992 | See Source »

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