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...Most Surreal Moment - Watching Marines arrive at my detention facility and unload a truck load of flex-cuffed midgets. 26 to be exact. We had put the word out earlier in the day to the Marines in Fallujah that we were looking for Bad Guy X, who was described as a midget. Little did I know that Fallujah was home to a small community of midgets, who banded together for support since they were considered as social outcasts. The Marines were anxious to get back to the midget colony to bring in the rest of the midget suspects...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: The Secret Letter From Iraq | 10/6/2006 | See Source »

Harvard students will now have a newfound appreciation for the grease dripping from their popcorn chicken or samosas. Since last week, used vegetable oil from Annenberg Hall has been fueling a Harvard Recycling Waste and Management truck, as a result of collaboration between concerned students and administrators. Using vegetable oil for diesel engines is no novel concept, but this is the first time such a program has been attempted at the University. The project was initially proposed by two undergraduates—Tatianna Bartch ’06 and Jeremy P. Tchou ’08?...

Author: By Sonam S. Velani, CONTRIBUTING WRITER | Title: Dining Hall Drippings Power Garbage Truck | 9/29/2006 | See Source »

...circus too, and a flying one at that." In fact, his childhood was more Dickensian-poignant than Python-comic. In 1945, when Eric was two, his father died when coming home from the Army for Christmas; the car he'd hitched a ride in was hit by a truck. The family had few resources, so for a dozen years, from age seven, Eric was raised at the Royal Orphanage in Wolverhampton, an institution he describes as "bleakly Victorian." The school was bleak and chilly. "I was cold until I was nineteen," Idle recalled, conjuring up the deprivations George Orwell wrote...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Pythonostalgia! | 9/26/2006 | See Source »

...sound and sight dimmed, as my thoughts turned inward. This is not how I pictured my life ending: futilely and unglamorously, on the frigid floor of a truck, thousands of miles away from anyone I loved...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: How I Lost My Hand But Found Myself | 9/24/2006 | See Source »

...error occurred while processing this directive] Maputo's Sunset Boulevard, the Avenida de Marginal, was serving up sax and prawns long before an AK-47 made it onto the Mozambican flag - but to get there you had to cling to the back of a pickup truck with another 40 wide-eyed souls. Today, you can travel in style, in a chauffeur-driven, mint-green-and-chrome '50s-style car. The Havana Transport Company is typical of the city's fast-growing entrepreneurialism - it's owned by a South African who has emigrated to Mozambique. For $50 an hour, Jaime Sumbane...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: A Musical Revival | 9/8/2006 | See Source »

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