Word: cats
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...provinces showed a marked improvement in peasant morale, and confidence in Premier Ky's government. There is also a sharp increase in willingness to inform on the Viet Cong-and to cooperate with the anti-Communist forces. A small but significant example of this occurred in Ben Cat last week when a V.C. terrorist stepped out of a crowd to hurl a grenade at U.S. troops passing on the street near by. Before he could throw it, a young Vietnamese in the crowd felled him with a flying tackle; time was when no civilian would have dared to raise...
Others felt the same disappointment. Civil-rights workers in Greenville, who swam in the lake, drank Dr. Pepper from the bottle and wore dungarees--they too had heard about Carter and had read the Delta Democrat-Times; then they came to town and saw the big house. "Fat cat," they chanted...
...radicals see the big house and they react automatically, "Fat cat." But Carter is far from the easy-going Southern planter who chokes on his gin-and-tonic the minute you mention "Negro." He's one of the few people, north or south, black or white, who would rather listen than talk to you about civil rights, even if the topic is his own back yard. The most fatuous polemic brings only a smile, a twinkle of his grey-green eyes, and a friendly "Hell, you know better than that." If you get out on a ideological limb...
...which pilots had been free to blast away at will. Henceforth FAC planes will patrol each of the known Viet Cong zones, pinpoint strikes within them as in the rest of South Viet Nam. A B-52 raid originally planned for the big allied sweep of the Ben Cat area fortnight ago (TIME, Sept. 24) was canceled on the outside chance that some stray bombs might hit uninvolved villages. And in an area west of Saigon, undirected artillery fire was banned-because civilians, despite orders to stay out, persisted in moving into the area...
Film, written by Samuel Beckett, played both the Venice and New York fests. It is a stark, black-and-white portrait of an old man who awaits death in a small, lonely room. Seeking absolute solitude, he turns out his cat and dog, closes the curtains, covers the parrot cage and goldfish bowl with his coat, and blacks out the room's only mirror. Finally, he destroys the last reference to the world in which he has lived, a packet of old photographs. But he cannot escape himself, and as he lifts his eyes to the barren wall before...