Word: yorkers
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...Yorker Writer Jonathan Schell sets out from the moralist camp and Physicist Freeman Dyson from the rationalist camp in search of common ground...
Both books first appeared as lengthy serializations in The New Yorker at the beginning of the year. Schell's is a sequel to his 1982 bestseller The Fate of the Earth. That work received widespread praise for its passionate, sometimes overwrought meditation on the madness of mutual assured destruction (MAD). Schell argued that the apocalyptic nature of nuclear war had rendered obsolete not only war itself but the concept of national sovereignty. He called on the superpowers to eliminate nuclear weapons and to "reinvent politics" by creating a world government loosely based on the pacifist ideals of Mahatma Gandhi...
...Yorker loathes traffic, and Geraldine Ferraro, 48, is no exception. But the bold aplomb needed to take charge is all her own. Aplomb took her from teaching school to learning law, from an assistant prosecutor's job to a prominent position in Congress. It could, if the timing and political climate were precisely right, put her on the Democratic ticket in July. No less a figure than House Speaker Tip O'Neill is touting her vice-presidential chances. "Sure, I have a candidate," he told reporters. "Her name is Geraldine Ferraro...
...will be remembered critically for his short stories of the 1930s and '40s; of a heart attack; in Davos, Switzerland. Born in Brooklyn, Shaw first won acclaim for his antiwar play Bury the Dead in 1936. He attracted a wide following with his short stories in The New Yorker, particularly his exquisite evocation of a young man's obsession, The Girls in Their Summer Dresses (1939). Renowned in writers' circles for his generosity to young authors, Shaw took his financial success lightly (his novels were often turned into movies or TV mini-series). He took his craft...
...people came into view several blocks ahead. Many who had made the mistake of thinking Jackson would keep his schedule had turned out early and been waiting four or even seven hours to greet their hero, but their spirits had not been dimmed. When a navy blue Chrysler New Yorker pulled to a halt and the candidate leaped out, the crowd surged over wooden police barricades chanting, "Win, Jesse, win!" Jackson, smiling broadly, strode into the throng, surrounded by apprehensive Secret Service agents who formed a circle around him; one kept a tight grip on the back of Jackson...