Word: thrustingly
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...outset. Boorman creates just the right mood of mystery and high adventure. After the opening credits tell us that we're in The Dark Ages ("The Land was divided and with a King.") we're thrust into a bloody battle between small armies of knights on horseback. Their armor splattered with blood and mud, they fight against the background of a bright orange sky, the bloodshot sun hanging low. The strange atmosphere of unreality intensifies with the entrance of Merlin (Nicol Williamson) who emerges from the mist covered in black robes, his head adorned with a glistening silver skull...
...Thrust innocently into a national spotlight she had not sought, the actress held a news conference at Yale to confirm that she had received many "unsolicited" love notes from Hinckley. None had mentioned the President, she said, and none had contained any hints of violence...
...thrust of the tumult, as of the book, was that Hollis, in the twilight of his undercover career, had come under suspicion as the result of accusations against him within M15 that he had been a Soviet agent. In 1970, Hollis withstood 48 hours of unstinting interrogation as a result of these charges in an M15 safe house in London, according to Pincher. But doubts remained. A year after Hollis' death, Lord Trend, a former Secretary of the Cabinet and a highly respected civil servant, was recalled from retirement to reinvestigate the charges. Lord Trend, Pincher reported, concluded there...
...figures on the floor drug-addled, lobotomized, throwing each other over, punching each other up, selling each other out. Elvis Costello has played a lot of clubs these last few years; after an angry, violent American tour, morsels of America sizzled in his brainpan, and in Get Happy!! Elvis thrust his middle finger up her dumb whore B-Movie hole, the music as hyper-energized, as fractious and scrappy as the country itself. It was a smashing, reverberating disc that some of us thought would go through the roof critically and commercially. Alas. audiences and rock critics can't digest...
...papers held on somehow, anachronistic, silly sheets put out by oddball reporters working for befuddled editors, until one day, out of the blue, the paper would be sold out from under them. The editorial thrust grew nostalgic and bitter, full of red-baiting, rigid middle-class values, and Hearst-like pretensions towards social and political prominence. And as the papers wandered along in permanent adolescence, the family drifted away in their cars, mansions, clubs, and sports...