Word: livered
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Consider your basic Gadus morrhua, otherwise known as the cod. Its skin is slimy. Its liver is smelly. Its mouth droops and its eyes bulge outrageously. Even its character seems less than admirable: the cod submits meekly to any fishhook in sight. Yet the lowly Gadus morrhua is hardly friendless. Indeed, for the third time in 17 years, Great Britain and Iceland have deemed their attachment to the fish so vital that they are engaged in another "cod war" against each other...
...Committee was told by M. Harvey Brenner, an associate professor of public health at Johns Hopkins University, that there are concrete correlations between economic hard times and serious physical and social ills. According to Brenner, high inflation and widespread unemployment bring increased suicides, higher incidences of cirrhosis of the liver due to heavier drinking, and an upsurge in mortality from cardiovascular diseases. There is also an apparent strong correlation with increased crime-the next subject Brenner has agreed to look into for the committee. So far, nobody has begun looking into how low the misery index must drop before...
...does a liver cell differ from a brain cell, when they both carry the same genetic information," Maniatis asked. Artificial reproduction of genes can answer such questions, he said, because it can act as a probe into DNA organization and control in higher animals...
...carried: drugs, cameras, records. They sold well but did not earn much profit. In their place went goods aimed at people who had money to spend on more than boring necessities. The result in microcosm: Bloomingdale's sells no men's razors, but it does sell bloc of duck liver with green pepper...
...playwright Howard O'Brien's script are sort of dull, but the characters that lack them tend to buckle under familiar interpretations. O'Brien fills the play's most decrepit role as Old Man Boyle, who blathers sporadically about the 20 pounds of crap in his bowels, his putrid liver, leaden legs, rotting teeth, and sparse hair. Perched in his wheelchair, between the park bench and the garbage pail, he seems content to survey the progressive dissolution of others with a complicit smile that might be meant for a slyer old man, Beckett...