Word: seat
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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...wonder who they're afraid might get into that place?" I asked as we drove off. A voice from the back seat mumbled, "Necrophiliacs...
...scrunched up on the front seat of the car, watching moisture form on the windshield, and feeling cramps develop all over my body, I began to smile with a quiet sense of vindication...
...miles up the Baltimore-Washington Expressway, we overtook a lone Army truck. The three soldiers in the back were shooting peace signs at everyone who passed. We traded signs with them. Then one of my friends, who was sitting in the right front seat, grabbed a handful of lollipops and leaned way out the window-we were going 50 miles an hour-and handed them to one of the soldiers. We dropped back a bit. As we approached again, the soldier proffered his hat: we pulled up close and accepted it. We fell behind again. My friend asked the soldiers...
...close-up of Jurieu driving in a car, the barest amount of background road visible in the window behind him, pans across the front seat to the close-up face of his friend Octave, grimacing nervously. Renoir cuts to a distant high-angle; the car drives off the road into a ditch. Renoir cuts to a frame three-quarters filled by waving grass: it's impossible to say whether it's a low-angle shot and the characters are about to appear over its edge, or whether he's shooting a hill, or indeed where...
...there we were. A half-million people sitting in the middle of the imperial seat, surrounded by its lying architecture. One of the isolated Americas superimposed on another. How many times had we all been through the very same ceremony? It was as if we had to gather every so often to make sure that we existed. Each individual had to reaffirm periodically that he was at least part of one of the Americas, even if that America was hopelessly at odds with all the others. Each individual had shuddered at the thought that he could believe only in himself...