Word: webbings
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Dates: during 1950-1959
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Mobilist Alexander Calder saw his "prisoner" as two black triangles pierced with a spear. Philadelphia's Wharton Esherick used a pair of leaning monoliths to convey his idea. Others showed a tiny figure trapped, fly-like, in a conical web of wires; shapeless wooden chunks joined by metal bars; a writhing metal mass with sharp edges and a pair of protruding wings. Only one winner gave his prisoner a human form...
Every new fire was a new problem. In Rumania, the caved-in well had made a crater 250 ft. wide and 65 ft. deep filled with small ground fires and a tangled web of melted pipeline. It took Kinley six months to lick the fire. In Oklahoma, when his leg was caught in some machinery and broken, Kinley got it set in a cast, went back to direct the fire fighting from horseback. In Venezuela, when shifting winds blew the fire on to him, he spent five weeks on his stomach in a hospital recuperating. In Texas...
...Hygiene building itself is hardly a place for an adequate medical center. It was set up in the shell of the old Spec Club that burned down in 1930. The inside is like a spider-web, with myriads of narrow hallways. Cramped offices lack of storage space, and a tiny den for testing eyes that no self-respecting optometrist would tolerate make life tough for both doctors and patients...
...speakers agreed that there was need for biologists who set forth theories that come out of biological observations alone and that did not immediately draw upon the standing physico-chemical web of concepts. Historical examples were drawn to show that a "boldness and courage of this sort" had been fruitful in stimulating more research. Eventually the unrelated concepts had fit into a scheme that was made consistent with schemes in other fields, the speakers commented. Genetic theory was given as an example of this sort of bold concept that was not at first built on existing physico-chemical bases...
...Charlotte's Web, The New Yorker's E. B. White retires, as all city intellectuals should, to a roomy barn on a large farm. Here, on a cosy dung heap, he sets Wilbur, a runt that is never likely to make much of a pig-a sort of porcine Cinderella, in fact. But thanks to bottle feeding by a little girl, Wilbur waxes so stout that he is a cinch to become the farmer's Christmas dinner. Wilbur's hard plight-considered first too puny, then too appetizing to live-excites the pity of a spider...