Word: whirred
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Wells now pump oil right out from underneath Main Street, and dozens more dot the surrounding buttes. Cranes lay down sections of pipe across snow and sagebrush that will carry gas from well to processing plants. Helicopters whir overhead. Hundreds of workers live in trailers and tents in fields, along the river banks, or wherever a friendly rancher will let them camp...
...emigration to desertion from the army. Other critics contend that those going to the U.S. are motivated by the most crass materialism. One comment in the Jerusalem Post last week was typical: "They want to be lulled into nirvana by the hum of a six-cylinder auto engine, the whir of a food processor and the strains of an expensive stereo. They want to come home from work and be pampered, to make a lot of money and stop caring...
...glaring confusion of this scene Sellars tries to turn Lear's tragedy on us, blinding us with spotlights until our eyes tear or shut; deafening us with insidious noise, the constant whir of electric mosquitoes or a four-hour test of the emergency broadcast system; teasing us with snippets of Shakespeare's poetry made impotent by the onslaught of technological power. We are all Lears, Sellars implies, who have turned our backs on love, on simple beauty and grace, on people and objects of substance. Like Lear we mistakenly embrace the shiny, the glossy, the plastic, the metallic--words...
...Southfork Hilton, and it must take a tanker and a half to fuel all those Mercedes in the driveway. The lovely Ewing ladies flop around the house in designer dresses, and when the good ole boys go hunting, they don't pile into a pickup. They whir away in a helicopter...
...unashamed appeal to the lower emotions and the exuberant ingenuity of its rococo plot. Like one of those electric lint brushes, Dallas' industrious writers have picked up a little fuzz from most of their betters, all of their equals, and one or two of their inferiors. Whir, buzz. Here's a thread from Shakespeare's voluminous mantle: that old blood feud betwen the Montagues and the Capulets, or, in this case, the Ewings and the Barneses. Hum, grind. There's half of Tennessee Williams' back pocket. Can't you hear that cat scratching...