Word: piney
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Similarly indignant questions are being echoed all over Louisiana. In the thick piney woods near Mansfield, in the rural, Protestant north, Duke recently gave some 150 white partisans at a local V.F.W. hall his well- modulated litany of how an inept government and its wasteful social programs are taking advantage of law-abiding middle-class folks. "There is no bigger problem we have in Louisiana and in the country than the rising welfare underclass," he told them. "We're never going to have fiscal reform in Louisiana until we have welfare reform...
...getting everything" are nowhere to be seen among the picnickers. The only blacks visible wear the Day-Glo blazers of parking attendants. In fact, the prosperity of Duke's supporters is a point of pride to the campaign aide who asks me, "Do these people look like piney-woods rednecks...
...thousand years ago in the piney fastness of the Teutoburg Forest, near where the city of Bielefeldr is today, an army of German tribesmen lay in wait for three Roman legions advancing from the Rhine. Led by the chieftain Arminius, the Germans ambushed the veteran legionaries and massacred them. Rome never again tried to extend its empire far beyond the Rhine. The Roman historian Tacitus called Arminius' ferocious style of warfare the furor Teutonicus: given to drinking and fighting, the Germans, he wrote, were tough, hardened warriors "fanatically loyal to their leaders." Concluded Tacitus: "Rest is unwelcome to the race...
...muggy Houston morning, George Foreman, the heavyweight boxing champion of 15 years ago, is bundled in a military shirt and heavy work pants, plodding up and down a freeway embankment in the piney woods near his home. Foreman isn't just climbing the steep hill. He is maneuvering up it backward -- up and back, up and back -- a modern-day Sisyphus, sweating and straining in the heavy grass. As he moves, the old fighter hurls jabs and uppercuts at the blazing sun with his prodigious arms...
Porn's big profits ensure that Hurlbut will never lack for work. The station wagon is now deep in the piney woods northeast of the city as he searches vainly for the site of another nude bar, one that he has chased from two other prospective locations. "We'll get him sooner or later," he chuckles. On the drive home, he wheels up to a fading stucco relic aside the four-lane. Shut down long ago, the nude club's blue canopy still flaps amid the weeds and litter, and a garish neon sign towers skyward. "Twenty warrants for prostitution...