Word: plastic
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...systematic terror." Even so, he went on, "the deeds of the Viet Cong go largely unnoted in the public debate. And it is this moral double bookkeeping which makes us get sometimes very weary of our critics." As if to punctuate the President's point, a Viet Cong plastic bomb erupted at a Saigon bus stop the same day, killing an old woman and wounding a young girl...
...over the world, for instance, the new bestseller is suddenly Quotations from Chairman Mao Tse-tung, which JAMES F. COYNE comes encased in red plastic with a red-ribbon marker. At Berke ley, it is treated like an amulet by the Black Muslims; at Columbia, it is outselling everything since Henry Miller; and Bren-tano's at the Pentagon has already unloaded 1,000 copies at $1 each. A few of the buyers may be genuine sinologists, but for the vast majority it is the new camp classic...
...gasoline burns. Because the cost of charcoal and kerosene has soared, some Vietnamese have tried to make do with stolen gasoline; hundreds have been burned in the resulting explosions. Of all the burn cases-by accident or by non-napalm weaponry-that came to his attention, only 5% required plastic surgery...
...white levis and old tweed jackets, orders a Bartley's Buns 21. The price--$1.10--is steep, but, after all, this is lunch. The Buns 21 boasts two Bartley burgers, two buns, and some scattered potato chips. Accessories include a little paper cup of cole slaw--about one blue plastic forkful--and a pickle. Two pickles if you know Florence. He also orders a large coke for twenty-five cents. Five minutes later, he's done. A ten cent tip for Florence. And don't forget to get a twelve cent box of crackerjacks at the cashier's counter...
Blitman asks for an extra thick shake and a creme-filled chocolate Ring Ding. He is punched for forty cents. Although he doesn't like Hazen's much, Blitman does get a big kick out of the way his plastic sanitary straw stands straight up in his shake. And he likes to observe the teen-bopper subculture in action. At night, Hazen's absorbs the Bartley crowd. During the weekdays, it becomes a Cambridge streetcorner moved indoors, a refuge for the lustful, sallow, acne-splattered teen set. Precocous little girls with rampaging breasts bump and grind to the Seeds...