Word: plot
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Dates: during 1970-1979
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...plot is simple enough. I am invited to the Midland City Festival of the Arts through the efforts of Eliot Rosewater, an eccentric millionaire with the handwriting of a fourteen-year-old, and incidentally, my only fan. After a rather roundabout trip I arrive, only to drive a Pontiac dealer, Dwayne Hoover, insane with the ideas from one of my books. You can imagine my horror; I had never even driven a Pontiac before, and besides, my books had always influenced people to do only one thing: cut out the dirty pictures my publishers put in them and then burn...
Alch said last week McCord's testimony was falsified in an attempt to "get Nixon." McCord, a former CIA official, testified of White House pressure to portray the Watergate break-in as a CIA plot. In exchange for corroborating that story, McCord would have received executive clemency, John J. Caulfield, former White House staff testified. The CIA had previously been linked to a 1971 break-in at the office of Daniel Ellsberg's psychiatrist...
...name, used by Conspirator E. Howard Hunt Jr.; tape, screwdriver, pliers, flashlight and other burglar's tools. Lower left: phone numbers found on a Watergate conspirator listing Hunt's White House number. This was one of the primary clues that led police to trace the break-in plot to the White House...
...abuse, the people in the movies or the ones watching them. L'Amour ("presented" by Warhol, written and directed by Warhol and his protege Morrissey) features the wrecking crew from The Factory, Warhol's New York homestead, transported to Paris, where they scratch and stammer through a plot that might be a low-camp rewrite of La Ronde. Michael (Michael Sklar) and Max (Max Delys) are lovers. Michael, wanting to get married for appearances only, becomes involved with Donna (Donna Jordan), while Max makes lanolin passes at Jane (Jane Forth). All have been encouraged to play someone approximating...
Fever. Kate Brown and the reader, accordingly, must face the shock of age, the loss of beauty, with dramatic speed. And if that means that the plot must groan like a Paris elevator, or the prose sometimes has to scuff along in rundown slippers and an old dressing gown, Doris Lessing has never been one to take the cosmetics of fiction seriously...