Word: ringed
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Dates: during 1970-1970
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...Kent State Professor Charles Brill's statement, "My God, this is for real," ring throughout our nation. You bet your hippie wig it's for real. America is fed up with all of these violent demonstrators. What a great nation we'd have if just a fraction of this hostile energy could be transformed into efforts to assist the more unfortunate members of our country...
Despite the impression that the Communists run their war from some sort of E-Ring in the jungles, COSVN is actually a staff of some 2,400 people who are widely dispersed and highly mobile−too mobile to please a U.S. brigade that has been toiling in fruitless quest of COSVN for three weeks. Says a weary intelligence analyst: "We're still looking for the guy in the COSVNT shirt...
Marcel Cerdan Jr. was no higher than a ring post when his father became the middleweight champion of the world. Marcel Sr. died shortly thereafter but for the son the legacy lives on: "It is my duty to try to succeed my father." He is certain of this, he says, for on the eve of a fight his father often visits him in his dreams, urging him on. "It is in the stars," says his manager, Philippe Filippi. "Old Marcel is up there watching me, and I know he's happy about what I am doing...
...famed Chanteuse Edith Piaf, his father's mistress, petit Marcel finally arrived at Manhattan's Madison Square Garden last week for his first fight in the U.S. As always, he carried with him cherished mementos of his father: the taped water bottle he always used in the ring, the watch he was wearing when he died, the bloodstained trunks he wore when he dethroned Zale. Whenever anyone mentioned his quest for the championship, petit Marcel spoke the few words of English he had mastered: "It is my destinée" Shortly before the fight, he listened...
...dust jacket provides the perfect image for the contents. An older man and a girl, dressed in what appears to be nightshirts, are dancing a sort of ring-around-a-rosy. Despite clasped hands, the two are curiously abstracted. Their eyes do not meet. Their smiles do not match. A vaguely Marat/ Sade promise of violence seems to be in the air. The manic energy of the dance generates no gaiety, no warmth. This is a social act in a vacuum-dance seen as antic pathological spin...