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Word: wastelanders (lookup in dictionary) (lookup stats)
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...wasteland of sand and water. It covers more than 50 million square miles and extends almost halfway around the earth. Its inhabitants hunt goats in fern-forested Kauai. and missile nose cones in the sleepy lagoon of Eniwetok. It is the habitat of strange "birds" with peculiar names-Samos, Discoverer. Midas, Nike-Zeus-whose flights are scratched across the sky in weird contrails and tracked by missile-watching machines on a California mud flat and in such far-flung outposts as Alaska, Hawaii, Kwajalein and Christmas Island. The PMR-for Pacific Missile Range-is the nation's largest testing...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Defense: The Big Bird Sanctuary | 4/13/1962 | See Source »

...whatever the practicalities, television prefers another image of itself as a high-minded public service. And slowly, the feeling got around that Ollie Treyz had become a poor front man. When FCC Chairman Newton Minow talked darkly about the TV wasteland, no one doubted that he viewed Treyz as the chief waster...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Television: The Rub-Out | 3/30/1962 | See Source »

While the FCC is trying to irrigate American culture in the "wasteland" of television, the Post Office is threatening to kill it off where it has long flourished, in the little magazines. If the Senate approves the general postal rate increase urged by Postmaster General J. Edward Day--the House has done so already--many small journals will be faced with the choice of merger or extinction...

Author: NO WRITER ATTRIBUTED | Title: Rates and Values | 3/10/1962 | See Source »

...squelch unsociable feelings; the Navy even let them have all the cigarettes they wanted to avoid enmity over a dwindling supply. And each man in the shelter knew that he would be given a 72-hour liberty for his trouble-a considerably different prospect than emerging into an atomic wasteland...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Civil Defense: Sheltered Life | 3/9/1962 | See Source »

...capsule named Friendship 7. In an incredibly matter-of-fact voice, John Glenn began to count: "Ten, nine, eight, seven, six . . ." A great yellow-white gush of flame spewed out from the Atlas-D missile. For nearly four seconds, it seemed rooted to its pad in the space-age wasteland of Cape Canaveral, a flat, sandy scrubland dotted by palmetto trees and looming, ungainly missile gantries. Then the rocket took off, heading into the brilliant blue sky. "Lift-off," said Glenn. "The clock is operating. We're under...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Nation: Space: The Flight | 3/2/1962 | See Source »

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