Word: vomiting
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Dates: during 1970-1979
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Mayor George Moscone, 49, had learned only a few days before of the deaths of Jones, whom he had once appointed head of the city housing authority, and of the other Guyana victims. "I proceeded to vomit and cry," Moscone had said. Supervisor Harvey Milk, 48, who had spoken at political rallies at the Peoples Temple, had candidly proclaimed his homosexuality and won election to the city's eleven-member governing board. He had also left a tape recording predicting that he might be killed because he had become such a prominent political spokesman for gays. The man charged...
...particularly impressed. Governor Jerry Brown came to the Peoples Temple. San Francisco Mayor George Moscone, who received important help from Jones in his close 1975 election, appointed him to the city's housing authority in 1976. (Said the mayor about last week's horror: "I proceeded to vomit and cry.") The sheriff and district attorney were temple visitors, but Lieutenant Governor Mervyn Dymally outdid them all by dropping in on the 27,000-acre plantation in Guyana that Jones had acquired...
...talent; instead they gave it a permanent irritability. His family was sunk in a kind 'of permanent neurasthenia, the petit-bourgeois provincial twilight known to every reader of Strindberg or Ibsen. He was, almost literally, raised in the family sickroom, in a dreadful atmosphere of whispers, enforced silences, vomit, snot and the cold stink of carbolic acid...
...Exorcist. William Friedkin's film of William Peter Blatty's reasonably entertaining novel is cinematic vomit--in a word, a gross-out. Or maybe two words. Friedkin, whose hit-'em-over the head style should confine him to urban crime thrillers, shoves his disgusting images into our faces in a manner reminiscent of Linda Blair shoving a crucifix into her crotch. Crunch, crunch. Blatty's novel needed: a) someone less pretentious than Blatty to write the screenplay, and b) a director with more of a sense of lyricism and wit, a modern James Whale, or a Hitchcock, or even...
...anything else I have ever smelled. Even the escorting officer could not stand the odor and, holding his handkerchief to his nose, asked to be excused. Abandoned babies were inserted four to a crib. Those who could not fit were simply laid on the straw. They smelled of baby vomit and baby shit, and when they were dead, they were cleaned...