Word: craniums
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Dates: during 2000-2009
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...recall a hardworking student, one who shot his hand up when the teacher scribbled a math problem on the chalkboard, shouting "chaiyo" (victory) when he inevitably got the right answer. He usually finished his homework in a matter of minutes. Still, the star pupil with the outsized cranium?his nickname among his buddies was Fat Head?was no geek. "He was popular with the other boys and not shy at all," says his second-grade teacher Srimoon Kantha. "I remember him flexing his muscles, saying 'I'm going to grow up and be a hero...
...wants to see Li in action. So watch him defeat bad guys with the tools of domesticity: a mop, a bale of laundry and (ouch) an iron. Gasp as he kicks a billiard ball out of an end pocket, then swats it, cricket-bat-style, into a villain's cranium. See him use a desk drawer as a truncheon. He sneaks past a sentry's guardhouse outside the evil inspecteur's police station and, just to show he can, he rams his foot through his guardhouse door, neatly kicking the sentry in the groin. Inside, he chances upon 20 martial...
Beneath a translucent scalp, the plates of Gertrude Dhlamini's cranium etch a geography of pain. Her illness is obvious in the thin, stretched skin under which veins throb with the shingles that have blinded her left eye and scarred that side of her face. At 39, she looks 70. The agonizing thrush, a kind of fungus, that paralyzed her throat has ebbed enough to enable her to swallow a spoon or two of warm gruel, but most of the nourishment flows away in constant diarrhea. She struggles to keep her hand from scratching restlessly at the scaly rash flushing...
...labeled as Businessmen, the drama queens as Performers and the loudmouths as Politicians. In some cases, the similarities were even more striking. My close friend, the Mastermind, fits the profile not only as a "schemer" and "plotter," but even her forehead bears a strange resemblance to the rather large cranium possessed by the Mastermind on the Web site...
...tell you, it's hard to keep a stiff upper lip these days. First my high-tech dot-com portfolio plummets. Then it turns out that my beloved cell phone may be zapping my delicate cranium with radioactive waves. And now, to top it all off, the Prozac that keeps me from murdering my coworkers is under attack, this time by recently unemployed talk therapists. It's as if everything that seemed so promising way back in the '90s has suddenly been tainted by doubt...