Word: torches
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Dates: during 1970-1979
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...make Briticisms comprehensible to Americans, and Americanisms to Britons. The glossary, which has more than 200 Americanisms, advises the newly arrived American housewife that when she goes shopping for diapers, a baby carriage, a flashlight and a vacuum cleaner, she should ask for nappies, a pram, a torch and a hoover. The housewife will find that while there are no eggplants or zucchini in the food stores, aubergines and courgettes taste exactly like them. If she finds it all too baffling and wants to return home, no moving van will pull up to her front door, but a pantechnicon will...
...cannot. Tyranny, like hell, may not be conquered at all. At least not by us as we are. We have had the life sucked out of us-gigantic blood-swollen ticks sucking at our hearts and heads. The statue with the big torch has burned us to ashes. We can no longer love nor desire nor even hate. We will have to sink back into the clay again in order to form ourselves as men. That's how I will begin. Clay first, then...
...Khmer word I learned, they demanded to know the equivalent in "Washington." I found out that the small oil lamp every soldier carries with him is called a caiden. After I used the word the first time, one of the soldiers held up the lamp and asked, "Washington? Washington?" "Torch," I replied. "Tors, tors," they all repeated, unable to form the difficult English ch sound with their mouths. I laughed and shook my head. "Not tors. Call it lamp. L-a-m-p." I depended on them for my every need: food, water, cigarettes, paper and pen. These they provided...
...cannot. Tyranny, like hell, may not be conquered at all. At least not by us as we are. We have had the life sucked out of us- gigantic blood-swollen ticks sucking at our hearts and heads. The statue with the big torch has burned us to ashes. We can no longer love nor desire nor even hate. We will have to sink back into the clay again in order to form ourselves as men. That's how I will begin. Clay first, then...
...cannot. Tyranny, like hell, may not be conquered at all, At least not by us as we are. We have had the life sucked out of us-gigantic blood-swollen ticks sucking at our hearts and heads. The statue with the big torch has burned us to ashes. We can no longer love nor desire nor even hate. We will have to sink back into the clay again in order to form ourselves as men. That's how I will begin. Clay first, then...