Word: veined
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Dates: during 1990-1999
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...sections dealing with Pop art and Minimalism are strong and, on the whole, well chosen -- decadent though they may look in Beijing. But the historical structure is lame-brained because it ignores a vein of American art in the early 1960s that, though out of favor today, has a solid claim to inclusion: abstract color-field painting. Helen Frankenthaler, Kenneth Noland, Morris Louis do not appear and might never have existed. Instead the narrative goes straight from Abstract Expressionism...
...seems strange, then, that the DEA's head of LSD operations, Gene Haislip, said at the end of last year about the nation's acid problem, "We've opened up a vein here. We're going to mine it until this whole thing turns around." The problems with this statement run deeper than Haislip's unfortunate drug-addled "vein" analogy. The fact that the DEA has tripled spending and personnel on a drug that doesn't harm anyone physically, doesn't make people harm each other and isn't corrupting national governments in the tropics should make one wonder...
...helping Ross Perot to drum up opposition to the North American Free Trade Agreement, which would create a Canada- U.S.-Mexico common market. NAFTA does not deal with immigration, and Perot has not mentioned the subject. But some analysts think he is tapping, deliberately or not, into a vein of anti-Mexican sentiment fed largely by illegal immigration...
There is a rich vein of misogyny, or at the very least, a virulent strain of anti-feminism running through this novel. Margaret, at age 28, agonizes about her husband's purported infidelity moaning that "he has forsaken my aging flesh for-for what? To lose him to some exquisite little girl with long hair flicking like a horse's mane, a student drawn to him and he to her, intoxicated with the wine dark words of Walt Whitman, yes, okay, that's as it should be." Since when does turning 30 signal the onset of senescence? Admittedly, there...
...sophisticate realm of high fiction. Directly, that is, if you discount his only other published work, Kentucky Straight. In that collection of short fiction. Offutt shamelessly sold out his Kentucky heritage to Random. House. After slogging through the nine stories in the Paw-dun-hung-himself-with-his-belt vein. I was dreading the two hundred pages of memoir that make up. The Same River Twice. But Offutt has tired of Flogging the dead horse of his homeland, and has produced as intelligent and enthralling account of his journey across America and towards fatherhood...