Word: monstering
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...what has plagued this sluggish monster of an organization for the past few years is not how to stay alive, but how to lead the hundreds who join it only to hear a few top-name speakers, not how to make noise, but how to say something significant in political vacuum which is Harvard vague liberal consensus. Young Dems' membership problem is one not of numbers, but of quality, in a college whose liberal student activists join SDS and whose non-activist creative thinkers write tutorial papers...
...there was no shortage of high-velocity competition. Miami Boatbuilder Dick Bertram was at the helm of his diesel-powered Brave Moppie, the 1965 world champion. Following in the example of his father, a champion hydroplane racer, Gar Wood Jr. was driving Orca, a needle-nosed, 47-ft. monster that packed 1,200 horses under its deck. British hopes were pinned on Surfury, a molded plywood 36-footer with twin supercharged engines that generated 525 h.p. apiece...
Whiplash. Still, De Sade's letters are interesting not only for his status as a metaphysical monster but for his human inconsistencies. Sometimes he addressed his wife as "my lollote" "celestial pussycat," "joy of Mahomet" and "whiplash of my nerves"; at other times he complained that she had visited him in immodest clothes, told her he would rather see her in a whorehouse than with her mother, and lectured her sternly about his superior philosophical systems ("Mine," he wrote, "are based on reason, and yours are merely the fruit of stupidity"). He was more jovial with his valet Carteron...
...walking remains a romantic refuge from politics and society in general. Many Germans ramble alone. Others prize the mystic shared experience of striding arm in arm, verbunden (joined together) with a dear friend, facing the little obstacles of the way, starting together at strange noises, wondering what Grimm monster lurks in the forest shadows. "Walking invigorates the soul," they explain. "Things seem to sort themselves out and fall into place during a good walk...
...workers against war. The tolling of church bells reminded Jaurès of Schiller's Song of the Bells: "I summon the living, I mourn the dead, I break the furnaces." Cried Jaurès: "I call on the living that they may defend themselves from the monster who appears on the horizon. I weep for the countless dead now rotting in the East. I will break the thunderbolts of war which menace from the skies." Eighteen months later, Jaurès was dead of bullets fired by a youthful assassin who found such pacifism unpatriotic...