Word: shrilling
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Dates: during 1940-1940
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...Asia the maritime power, Japan, chose the side of the challenger to help break the hold on the Far East of the Anglo-U. S. combination, issued its own challenge in shrill but vehement tones. But the Japanese were still far from Singapore, which is Britain's fourth great naval fortress, and from the U. S. base at Manila...
...phrase well strikes the effect of the Martinu quartet. It was dazzlingly clever. As far as I could see, it capitalized on every music sure-fire ever invented: catchy, inclusive rhythms, abrupt changes in tempo, wild polytonality, a string technique which graded off from whole pages of unbearably shrill violin-chatter at some times to a Brahmsian luxuriance at others; to boot, reams of discordant counterpoint and impressively dull masses of sound. The quartet was musical sleight-of-hand personified, and it oozed cleverness. But it didn't ring true. Its themes bickered away in endless mediocrity, in a ceaseless...
...Carnegie-Illinois steelworkers at the plant at Homestead, who last week greeted Wendell Willkie with boos; reverential Negroes of Pittsburgh's Harlem, who had watched silently, even resentfully, when the President's opponent passed; school children, let out of school for the day, who had jeered in shrill-voiced mockery at the Republican candidate. Now they were merged in a solid mass of organized enthusiasm that reached from Pittsburgh's East Liberty Station, up through the hills of Swissvale and Rankin, that poured out of the grimy factories and working-class homes to roar its sustained, unvaried...
...selected and expounded the most currently relevant 15% of Spengler's text. Today and Destiny ap peals to the U. S.'s weakness for digests. It also appeals to the U. S.'s apprehension for its national future on a quaking planet. Far more than the shrill, prolix nonsense of Mein Kampf (U. S. sales: 197,500), Spengler makes profitable U. S. reading...
...babies their husbands had not yet seen, wives whose honeymoons had been cut short when the Fleet sailed to Pearl Harbor six months ago, sailors' girls, sailors' mothers. The air jangled with the familiar sounds of "the Fleet's in"-the rattle of anchor chains, the shrill of boatswains' pipes-finally the lilting bugle notes of liberty call. Over the sides of the stern grey ships, up from the bowels of four submarines poured officers and men, into motor launches, gigs, barges. Ashore they disappeared like snow in spring. The grey ships, manned by skeleton crews...