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...most part, though, designers display a staunch regional aesthetic. "The prevalence of capitalist consumer culture from the West has meant that there's a move toward a regional identity," says Daniel Vukovich, a lecturer in postcolonial theory at the University of Hong Kong...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Your Logo Here | 8/8/2008 | See Source »

...Anaheim, Calif. Before winning the Indy 500 in 1959 and 1962, Ward almost quit racing because of his involvement in two fatal crashes--one that killed his former crew chief Clay Smith, and another that claimed the life of his friend and two-time Indy 500 champion Bill Vukovich...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Milestones Jul. 19, 2004 | 7/19/2004 | See Source »

...shrouded in cobwebs. The Indians on the field that season--1985--were on their way to losing 102 games. A solitary fanatic in the last row of the distant bleachers was banging a drum slowly to wake up either the offense or the ghosts of the past. George Vukovich stood where Rocky Colavito once stood. The 5,000 people rattling around the 74,208-seat Temple of Doom looked as if they wanted to wipe the stupid grin off the face of Chief Wahoo, the mascot whose very name was a cruel joke both to Native Americans and to Cleveland...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: IT MIGHT BE AN INDIAN SUMMER | 7/3/1995 | See Source »

...something of a shock to see a capacity crowd of 41,948 stream into brand-new Jacobs Field last Wednesday evening to root, root, root for the best team in baseball, the Cleveland Indians. The press box was crowded; Manny Ramirez stood where George Vukovich once stood; and people were grinning like, well, Chief Wahoo. The fanatic with the drum, a computer programmer named John Adams, was still banging away in the back row of the bleachers, but he couldn't be heard through all the crowd noise. "Cleveland," said Indians pitcher Dennis Martinez, "is the baseball place...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: IT MIGHT BE AN INDIAN SUMMER | 7/3/1995 | See Source »

...that the spot had turned into "a pool of oily water on the floor. I noticed this quite offensive smell that I can't really describe." Others smelled it too and edged away. By Kamiyacho station, 11 minutes after the strange man had boarded, commuters panicked. Says Matthias Vukovich, an Austrian student who was in the car: "Everyone just ran off, and I didn't know what was going on. Someone yelled, 'It's gas!'" Looking back, Vukovich, whose eyes and head were beginning to hurt, glimpsed the puddle. Next to it sat an immobile old man. His name...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: JAPAN'S PROPHET OF POISON: Shoko Asahara | 4/3/1995 | See Source »

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