Word: thump
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...transmutation of Gregor Samsa, the world ceases to be predictable or rational; natural and moral order disappear. Critics have found in Kafka's vision hints of everything from the Holocaust to AIDS. But to burden the story with greater weight is in fact to lessen it. The thump in the gut comes from the literal details. The man who used to hurry to work now scuttles beneath the bed; the fastidious fellow who loved milk now detests "the fresher foods" and slurps deafeningly over anything decayed. When he agonizes with wounds inflicted by members of his family, they cannot bear...
...Auckland, New Zealand, the Boeing 747, carrying 336 passengers and a crew of 18, had climbed to 22,000 ft. over the Pacific. As the flight attendants were preparing to roll out the beverage carts, passengers in the forward section heard a hissing noise. Within seconds came a loud thump of bursting metal and a roar of cold air. "It was like a dream," said passenger Gary Garber later. "A section of the plane wasn't there any longer...
...pianist and accordionist, a geek with glasses in a white dinner jacket and purple slacks who is also the minister of music at his church; Debbie the drummer, an ex- prom queen in a strapless gown who exchanges one pink pump for a running shoe, the better to thump her bass drum; Mary the violinist, of stern Scandinavian stock, uptight, humorless and "best remembered locally for her performance as Anita in West Side Story"; and Mike the gentle, wistful synthesizer player who found himself during the 1967 Summer of Love and once played with an acid- rock band called Thursday...
...watch Pryor and his conscience playing out the conflicts that led him from freebasing to selfimmolation (all to the thump of Herbie Hancock's throbbing drum), the audience can't helped being shaken by the montage of emotion. Anyone with any heart will fall for this scene, regardless of how many times it's been done before because this time we know it really happened. If only Richard Pryor didn't have to hide behind Jo Jo Dancer...
...roaring toward their five Libyan targets. Out of the black Mediterranean night they came, racing through orange cones of frantic antiaircraft fire to punish the man Ronald Reagan calls the "mad dog of the Middle East." As Americans, transfixed at their television sets, listened to the muffled rattle and thump of the assault filtering over the phone lines of network correspondents holed up in a Tripoli hotel, the U.S. attackers delivered their lethal cargo of laser-directed bombs. As quickly as they had come, the warplanes wheeled out to sea, vanishing back into the gloom, all safe...