Word: whooshes
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Dates: during 1950-1959
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...throne room at Columbia Pictures resounded with the whoosh of an outsized riding crop swung in anger. Scepter in hand, striding before two rows of Oscars at stiff attention behind his vast desk, Columbia's stubby and balding Boss Harry Cohn fumed with the king-sized wrath of the last Hollywood despot who still runs the studio he built. The year was 1953, the object of his wrath Rita Hayworth, Columbia's reigning love goddess; Rita had flounced out and left the studio with a costly stack of properties bought just for her. Before Cohn's desk...
Eden, bundled up in a flying suit and flight helmet, climbed the narrow ladder into the belly of one of the Vulcans, and took off in a whoosh of jet exhaust. The Prime Minister directed the huge aircraft as far as the English Channel, took over the controls for one long stretch, then landed at an airport near his home in London. "Wonderful, wonderful, wonderful," said Eden scrambling out. "It was as smooth as a magic carpet...
Behind his words was the apparition nicknamed IBM (for intercontinental ballistic missile), which is hurled hundreds of miles into the stratosphere to fall on its target. An IBM could super-whoosh along at 4,000 to 5,000 miles an hour and cross the Atlantic in as little as 30 or 40 minutes. Automatic navigation on the stars should keep the error at target within eight miles, a near miss with an atomic warhead...
...argument ensued, and some of Waly's followers grabbed the lighted torches. One of them stumbled. A tree flared up with a whoosh. In panic, others threw their torches away. In a moment the yard became an oil-soaked pyre. The impregnated sawdust blazed like napalm, clinging to raw flesh, burning and spreading. The crowd, roaring with fear and pain, ran from side to side in the narrow schoolyard. But there was no escape: three of the walls were 10 feet high; the only exit was a narrow gate. It was over in 20 minutes: 33 died, hundreds more...
...views . . . and each time as we obediently halted to look, we met the same happy couple, simple tourists like ourselves, but with movie camera attached. Roaring into the parking spot, they slammed to a halt, leaped out, and whirrilling like some great electronic brain, focused their mechanical eye . . . Then, whoosh!− into the car and off, one driving alone with an eye for the next stop, the other busily twiddling gadgets and sorting film. . . Granted that picture-taking is fun and that pictures are nice . . . good heavens! Let us remember to look around our camera lens occasionally and see something...