Word: utterings
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...Their first game was Convention!, which can be played by two to seven players, each of whom is trying to win the nomination for President of the U.S. Uncommitted delegates, ballots, caucuses, bandwagon sentiment and demonstrations all play a part, with the smoke-filled room a policy of utter desperation...
Unless some academic genius invents a substitute for grades, this generation is seemingly chained to a double life: utter classroom sobriety, relieved by afterhours explosion. Princeton, where rioters went berserk last spring, has its Saturday night "cult of the grubby"-dungareed dancers twisting in once elegant clubs. Bizarre idiocy is also prevalent. L.S.U. coeds recently launched a "drawers raid" on a men's dormitory, and two Cornell fraternity teams played a 30-hour touch football game (score: 664-538). Columbia students staged an 'all-cause" protest rally with marchers Brandishing such signs as HOOVER...
...none of these things, causing the Atlanta Constitution's Publisher Ralph McGill, himself an Episcopalian, to resign from the cathedral, snorting "Utter hypocrisy" to an interviewer from the Atlanta church's monthly newspaper The Diocese. McGill's words never got into print, for a right-hand man of the bishop rushed to The Diocese's print shop after the press run was over, gave orders that the entire issue be destroyed and a new one distributed without the interview...
...quite happy where I am....We're not bothered. And nobody bothers us.") and the hells they inhabit ("There's not much light in this place is there, Mrs. Hudd?). Pinter creates his multi-levelled allegory by carefully planning tone and symbol; for example, the impression of utter darkness underlies a banal quarrel about whether there were indeed stars in the sky. Obviously such a play de-instance, their laughter must be nervous as well as amused...
Prehensile Tale. Boulle's tale clings prehensilely to this one turnabout joke, but rings nearly as many satiric changes on it as Swift did on the horsey Houyhnhnms. Caught in a hunting drive, the captured earthman watches as elegant female gorillas in fine tweeds utter little cries of admiration for the bag of naked humans their husbands have shot. The survivors are put in cages in the local laboratory, and Mérou finds that his dim-witted cellmates take weeks to learn to salivate when the keeper blows a whistle at mealtimes and never really catch...