Word: lurking
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Dates: during 1970-1979
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...broadcasts, newspapers, magazines, posters, labels, environmental journals, medical tracts, Government reports, even books. One of the books is a brand-new broadside by Dr. Charles T. McGee, a clinical ecologist of Alamo, Calif., who is quoted above. His 220-page polemic issues a general alarm about multifarious dangers that lurk in every nook and cranny of contemporary civilization. Even fluorescent lighting, he says, may, in some weird way, weaken the muscles. The book, billed as a "crash course in protecting your health from hidden hazards of modern living," is entitled How to Survive Modern Technology. Anybody with a frail heart...
...Edelhart's writing is so exaggerated. Edelhart occasionally delivers a piercing phrase. His writing rarely drags, but among the abundant exclamation points lurk tired ideas--suggestions that today strike even grandmothers as quaint...
...only he could go home again. But back in Manhattan lurk Billy's sister Abby, who clomps "the treacherous hike from the bathroom to the kitchen linoleum" in hiking boots; his twice-divorced mother; and her balding lover Henry, whom Billy catches poring over nymphet glossies in a porn shop. Epstein is at his best with fresh comic perceptions of growing up absurd in a multiparent home. He is at his weakest in describing Billy's moony infatuation with Zizi, which leads to the novel's adolescent denouement...
...necessary to enter Carl Jung's collective unconscious and search among primordial archetypes (the great mother, the old man) that supposedly lurk there. It seems reasonable enough to suppose that Americans test the looks of would-be Presidents against an accumulating folkloric archetype, a fluid and ambiguous composite formed of several diverse figures...
They begin turning up this time of year as reliably as gaudy lights and the Salvation Army, and with furrowed brows they hand the public a unique gift-clear warnings about the morbid hazards that lurk in the traditional seasonal celebrations. They are the jolly diagnosticians, and they dirge forth chanting their own anthem, a sort of Fugue for Handwringers, the gist of which is that there may be poisoned plums in the pudding...