Word: tedious
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Dates: during 1940-1949
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Hirohito stepped stiffly from his car at the Showa Electrical Co. plant near Yokohama. Past officials and workers standing at attention with Sunday smiles, he pattered like a not-quite-recuperated invalid treading on eggshells. While functionaries droned through tedious reports, Hirohito clasped and unclasped his hands, shifted from foot to foot, blinked and nodded. When it was all over, he sighed, "Ah so." Then His Majesty wandered like a scared mouse through the maze of plant wreckage. Before one of the workers, lined up to get their first imperial glimpse, he paused nervously. "How long have you been working...
They landed long after the President had hurried off to see his mother at Grandview. It was midnight before they caught up with him. It had been a wearing, tedious, all-but-newsless...
...romance, in the tradition of James Hilton's Lost Horizon, is a Polynesian Shangrila. It is plainly designed as a refuge for readers who have had enough of wartime realism. Two Navy flyers are floating on the Pacific in a flak-shattered PBY. One of them passes the tedious, hopeless days talking of the lush, tiny island that he dreamed of as a boy. The fish they finally catch must have been poisonous, because Gene, the navigator, dies that night. But Pilot Brooke wakes up to find the island there, just as he had always dreamed it. And when...
...heels of a non-comradely ruling that plain Russian soldiers must no longer use officers' clubs, the Soviet Government cushioned the lives of Red Army officers with some more line new decrees. Henceforth Soviet officers will get: 1) exemption from all taxes; 2) permanent orderlies to perform all tedious tasks; 3) extra food (some of it free...
Kathleen Winsor's Forever Amber, U.S. sexseller (nearly a million copies), appeared this month on London's bookstalls. English critics thumbed through and condemned it as tedious, bad writing and worse taste. Typical was the reaction of the Evening Standard's reviewer: "Miss Winsor has attempted an erotic novel on a grand scale, swoony with ill-defined sex, written in a style that rasps the nerves like a Brooklyn accent. I gave up on page 272, by which time Amber had reached her eighth...