Word: despairingly
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...will. Undeterred, Alinsky publicly described the city's Negro area as a "zoo," got embroiled in an acrimonious argy-bargy with Board of Education President Homer Wadsworth, who declared: "Alinsky has the smell of the '30s about him." Retorted Alinsky: "We still have the smell of despair and oppression. Mr. Wadsworth smells nice. It's the smell of bankers and cologne." Whereupon Saul flew away to tend chores elsewhere, leaving Squire Lance, a militant Negro aide imported from Chicago, to scour Kansas City's slums in search of sores...
...surprise. Britain, said Callaghan, would switch from the traditional pounds, shillings and pence to decimal currency in 1971. By now the Tories were in full cry. "An uproarious farce," shouted Conservative Leader Ted Heath. "The government is bereft of ideas and fuddy-duddy." Wilson buried his head in mock despair and nearly fell off the bench laughing. Above the roar, Economics Minister George Brown could be heard shouting, "We're on our way, brothers...
...play Ivanov to the hilt. He fully, uses his absolute mastery of technique -- spewing lines at fantastic speed which still remain intelligible, of keeping his hands in constant motion. Just before his death, within the space of 90 seconds Ivanov goes through three distinct phases--black laughter, broken despair, and suicidal resolve. This is theatricality in the grand manner, and Gielgud carries it off. His Ivanov has the desperation and the savagery, and his suicide is not only believable, it is inevitable...
...Pigs? His mission was to promulgate the two-war theme enunciated in the Declaration of Honolulu. "Yes, indeed," he declared in South Viet Nam, "two wars can be won-the war to defeat the aggressor and the war to defeat the ancient and persistent enemies, disease, poverty, ignorance and despair. The people of South Viet Nam will make their choice...
...Gareth's present, equally hard to stomach, is his own storekeeper father, for whom he works rather like an indentured servant. "Old Screwballs," as Gareth refers to him, is clench-lipped, word-shy, and sclerotically set in his ways. An evening with him is an unaltering ritual of despair: one cup of tea (never two), a game of checkers with the canon, a grunt of shoptalk. Gareth's father puts on his glasses to see the paper, never his son. Yet there is a kind of love between the two, all the more painful for being inarticulate...