Word: throatedly
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...singer of the Dead Boys gyrated in a rent pair of blue jeans occasionally flashing one pallid cheek to the congregation. As he crooned in a raspy baritone, he slid one hand into his pocket and drew out an enormous Bowie knife, which he held to the guitarist's throat in a skinnyboned imitation of a hard-ass punk. After picking his teeth with the knife, the Boy tired of that toy, only to pick out a new one for the next number: a pink plastic pleasure machine, with which he caressed his bony pelvis in mock ecstasy between stanzas...
...some hung from a metal frame: drums, gongs, warped cymbals, pot covers, a Chinese zither. Further downstage stand three sonic sculptures: clusters of metal rods placed on hollow blocks which sound otherworldly when stroked or bowed. And Moss makes vocal sounds too: I thought he was just clearing his throat and settling into his funhouse of instruments before I realized the concert had begun. Paxton joins Moss for one instrumental section; later Moss takes another while Paxton disappears to change from a red T-shirt into a yellow one. The concert ends as Paxton, drawing a deep breath, exchanges...
Requirements include willingness to negotiate a leisurely eight-mile circuit along the Charles River on a sunny Sunday afternoon and the ability to cram refreshments provided by McDonalds down your throat...
...have grown steadily ever since the agency was founded in 1907 under crusading Pure-Food Advocate Harvey Wiley, chief chemist of the Department of Agriculture. In 1938, after 107 people died from use of a sulfanilamide preparation that was supposed to be a cure-all for diseases like strep throat, Congress passed a strengthened Food, Drug and Cosmetic Act, providing the cornerstone for the FDA's current powers to enforce health, purity and labeling regulations...
...finally takes a killing to end it. Lawrence Jones, a striking miner, is shot in the back of the head one night, and, ironically, the outside pressure brought to bear from the incident forces Duke to negotiate. The scene causes anger to rise cold in your throat--it's strangely impersonal, yet moving. A flashlight shines on some muck on the ground, and a miner's dirty hand stirs through it. "Know what that is?" the voice asks. "Them;s brains. Shit. That's the way with a dirty scab. Shoot you when you're not even looking. Shit." Kopple...