Word: whining
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Dates: during 1990-1999
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...first hint to Saddam that the sky is falling again will come in the darkest hour of the night. He'll hear the whine of dozens of titanium-clad cruise missiles as they arrive in Baghdad from U.S. warships and submarines in the Persian Gulf and perhaps from giant B-52 bombers lumbering in from their Indian Ocean base on Diego Garcia. The cruise missiles will come crashing through the windows and walls of Iraq's main military command-and-communications centers. Over the crump and flame of those explosions will sound the roar of low-flying F-117 stealth...
...girls gathered last Friday in the FleetCenter, it was obvious that we still live very much in the shadow of the '60s. But it was equally obvious that the fire that fueled the brilliance of the era has long died out. Dylan's voice is still a nasal whine, but his lyrical efforts can no longer redeem it. Youthful abandon continues to stretch boundaries, but any spirit of adventure has been replaced by sad desperation. Halfway through Dylan's unintentionally elegaic performance, my schoolgirl friends stopped drinking, smoking and fondling each other. They sat slumped in their chairs, staring blankly...
Folks may whine this way or that about the foundering dinghy that is Titanic but the real crime of the minute is the non-criticism of Jackie Brown. Its reviews have had all the analytical ferocity of a dog rolling over and playing dead, and we can be sure Quentin Tarantino has rubbed that pup's belly--explaining feelingly to a wheedling New York Times or an absurd Charlie Rose about how the borrowing of mediocre orchestral tracks from '70s B-movie is a gesture of high art. He's a used car salesman, but the problem is, people...
...mean to whine, but what about me? Lots of people used to believe that the Net would be a renaissance for writers and artists and even journalists. But what it really is, it turns out, is an electronic Yellow Pages, an interactive card catalog, a mall without a parking...
Criticizing the liberals, however, becomes difficult. As Keillor portrays them, they are either militant freaks of society who fight for ridiculous-sounding causes, or else self-obsessed inner children who whine when they should be working. "New Age music," John grumbles in his head, "[is] relaxation music for yuppies to listen to and get even farther into themselves than they already were." Readers cannot help but despise as well as laugh at his descriptions of people so untouchably far from reality. To defend them, particularly the ones who persecute John so suddenly and relentlessly, is to become one of them...