accident-n.800445
<context>
The California Court, by a precarious majority, upheld the limitation on non-pecuniary damages to $250,000 as also conformable to the requirement of due process, noting that `thoughtful jurists and legal scholars have for some time questioned the wisdom of damages for pain and suffering in negligence actions", 
that the legislature was within its rights to conclude that it was in the public interest to obtain some cost savings by this device, and that, in any event, it knew of `no principle of California &dash. or federal &dash. constitutional law which prohibits the Legislature from limiting the recovery of damages in a particular setting in order to further a legitimate state interest". 
In support it relied on the US Supreme Court's upholding the limit in a federal statute on liability in the event of a nuclear <head>accident//NN</head>.   
</context>

amaze-a.800010
<context>
On occupational health, and I don't plead for those figures, because for a time, until Helen left to have her baby, we were fully staffed, and the number of inspections and the number of notices served and the number of prohibition notices served are very encouraging indeed. 
The impact of the section has been very broadly based in the city, and for the first time we've added for you in very brief terms, a Domiciliary Health information of just the total number of visits made by the city health care, {vocal sound="um"} and the level of work in terms of notices served, and prosecutions, note, going up in most of the sections, particularly their units they're small numbers, 
but they are significant, just the same, and the table on the top of page forty-four, {vocal sound="um"} as I said earlier, I think we reached the highest level of insect complaints in the summer that we've ever had to deal with, it's very usual for us to deal with a thousand, over in the summer period, this time we dealt with sixteen hundred. 
An <head>amazing</head> amount of work carried out by the three members of the pest control team, with some additional help with larger jobs during the summer period.   
</context>

band-p.800341
<context>
On this day: the Theatre Royal, Covent Garden (now the Royal Opera House), was opened, 1732; William Pitt the Younger became prime minister, 1783; Delaware became the first of the United States, 1787; the Alhambra Theatre was burned down, London 1882; Gilbert and Sullivan's opera The Gondoliers was first produced, London 1889; 
the Abyssinians defeated the Italians at Amba Alagi, 1895; an imperial edict authorised all Chinese to cut their pigtails, 1911; David Lloyd George became prime minister of Britain, 1916; the United States declared war on Austria-Hungary, 1917; the first parliament of the Irish Free State met, electing William Thomas Cosgrave as president, 1922; 
the parliament of Northern Ireland voted against being included in he Irish Free State, 1922; Japanese aircraft attacked Pearl Harbor, 1941; the Ivory Coast became an independent republic, 1960; Apollo 17 was launched from Cape Kennedy, 1972. 
DESPITE his unusually long career in jazz, British listeners knew Jimmy Shirley mainly for the Blue Note records he made in 1943 and 1944 in <head>bands</head> led by Edmond Hall, James P. 
Johnson and Sydney de Paris.   
</context>

band-p.800417
<context>
The motivating proportions had probably been: 
For a second the fifteen-percent figure made me unhappy, and then I thought, Fine, yes, I welcome all this imperfect mingling &dash. 
I want this circling refluxion of our old reconditioned pleasures and our new genuine ones to continue for years, decades, until it becomes impossible to trace backward the history of any particular liking, just as it was impossible to unstir the rash dollops of red or yellow tint my mother used to add to the custom-mixed paints she got from Sears: 
she used old peanut butter jars as receptacles, and sat cross-legged in the side yard pouring imperceptibly different yellow-greens from one jar to another, refining the color that she wanted for the porcelain-knobbed dresser in my sister's room, 
though the young technician in the paint department at Sears had with apparently scientific precision injected what seemed to me a perfectly acceptable series of squirts of yellow, cyan, and magenta from the paint organ into a white base, according to the recipe in a notebook for the sample chip my mother had matched to the border of a cloth calendar. 
She was closing in now on her idea; she had long since made use of the one free stirrer that came with the can of paint, and was now, `warming" the dresser-color-to-be by dipping a pencil in a tiny can of old Rust-Oleum and holding it above the peanut butter jar so that a stream of red fell, disappearing entirely at first and pooling in an invisible bulb of unmixedness at the heart of the host hue, 
and then later, as the pencil's burden lightened, thinning to a stretched rubber <head>band 's</head> breadth frail enough to remain caught on the surface, recording in Spirograph patterns the minute trembles of her hand and the light breezes that unplumbed the paint's angle of descent. 
</context>

band-p.800495
<context>
No, the explanation had to be that smiles became audible only at bedtime because toothpaste altered the chemical characteristics of one's saliva in a way that encouraged an unusually loud, sticky effervescence along the gum line. 
And think &dash. this smile sound was just one of many mouth sounds the Bug was going to notice and master in time! 
Speech was one, of course &dash. but also the loud woodblock tock we learned in second grade, made by cupping the tongue muscle under the roof of the mouth like a chiton and pulling it down while holding the lips in an amplifying O; 
or the interesting ducklike squirts you could make by enclosing two pillows of air high in the cheeks, just below the cheekbones, and then forcing these reserves to surge forward into the nameless tissues above the front teeth; 
or the plinks and squeaks of a rubber band stretched tightly through the lower dentition and plucked by the tongue until the cheddar-cheese pain of the rubber <head>band 's</head> edge against your gums made your eyes water and you pulled the loop free and again stretched it over the porcelain knobs of your dresser and let the spit fling itself heedlessly off in vibration; 
or the little kissy noise you could make by sucking the air from the blue cap of a Bic pen and letting it seal itself against your tongue and after you'd waggled it thoughtfully for a while pulling it free; or the much more substantial steel-drum effect you got by plucking your tongue free of the vacuum it had effortfully hauled from a soft-drink bottle before the gas escaping from the remaining soda negated your work; 
</context>

band-p.800862
<context>
For a second the fifteen-percent figure made me unhappy, and then I thought, Fine, yes, I welcome all this imperfect mingling &dash. 
I want this circling refluxion of our old reconditioned pleasures and our new genuine ones to continue for years, decades, until it becomes impossible to trace backward the history of any particular liking, just as it was impossible to unstir the rash dollops of red or yellow tint my mother used to add to the custom-mixed paints she got from Sears: 
she used old peanut butter jars as receptacles, and sat cross-legged in the side yard pouring imperceptibly different yellow-greens from one jar to another, refining the color that she wanted for the porcelain-knobbed dresser in my sister's room, 
though the young technician in the paint department at Sears had with apparently scientific precision injected what seemed to me a perfectly acceptable series of squirts of yellow, cyan, and magenta from the paint organ into a white base, according to the recipe in a notebook for the sample chip my mother had matched to the border of a cloth calendar. 
She was closing in now on her idea; she had long since made use of the one free stirrer that came with the can of paint, and was now, `warming" the dresser-color-to-be by dipping a pencil in a tiny can of old Rust-Oleum and holding it above the peanut butter jar so that a stream of red fell, disappearing entirely at first and pooling in an invisible bulb of unmixedness at the heart of the host hue, 
and then later, as the pencil's burden lightened, thinning to a stretched rubber band's breadth frail enough to remain caught on the surface, recording in Spirograph patterns the minute trembles of her hand and the light breezes that unplumbed the paint's angle of descent. 
Again she dipped the pencil in the red and held it over the jar; and then, although I was sure that she could have had no real knowledge of how large the reservoir of potential warmth was that hung somewhere in the midst of the yellow-green, waiting to tint it, she said, `I think that will do it," and stirred, and then she poured this new mixture into another jar of slightly lighter color, thereby interpolating a shade between them &dash. 
and that was the color my sister's small dresser was painted, a color that may have been close to celadon but was probably more of an ocher, that formed the background to the brown rubber <head>bands</head> I stretched between the porcelain knobs in L shapes and triangles, imagining I was threading tan magnetic tape around the capstans of a tape recorder, from which I plucked unpleasant tunes with my eyes closed.   
</context>

band-p.800988
<context>
The whole outside, in fact, what I could see of it, looked unusually good and deserving of similes today &dash. cleaner, sharper, more richly colored: I had removed the screens from the windows the day before, because the hot weather seemed to be gone for the year. 
Also as a result of the weather, I was wearing a sweater for the first time in months, one Patty had given me for my birthday; a brown monster stout with various fugal inversions and augmentations of the standard cable knit, and consequently glutted with insulational dead air, 
its corona of lighter outer fibers frizzing out three-eighths of an inch or more from the slubbed and satisfyingly clutchable weave that formed the actual structure underneath, so that the sweater, along with me, its wearer, appeared to fade without a demonstrable outer boundary into the rest of the room, as tuning forks or rubber <head>bands</head> will seem in their blurred vibration to transform their material selves into the invisible sound they generate; 
a machine-made sweater, but manufactured apparently with Xenakian lurches and indecisions programmed into the numerically controlled needles that, unlike the chain flayings and bleaching stains used in production lines to antique new furniture, gave it to my eye an attraction distinct from the irregular grandmotherly alternations between close attention and indignant abandonment at historical preservation meetings prominent in handmade knitwear. 
</context>

behaviour-n.800071
<context>
Some link with the doctrine of the matrimonial offence has been retained by the further provision that the court may not decide that a marriage has broken down irretrievably unless the petitioner can establish one or more of the five following circumstances: 
that the respondent has committed adultery, and the petitioner finds it intolerable to live with the respondent; (2) that the respondent has behaved in such a way that the petitioner cannot reasonably be expected to live with him (or her); (3) that the respondent has deserted the petitioner for a continuous period of at least two years preceding the presentation of the petition; 
(4) that the parties have lived apart for a continuous period of at least two years immediately preceding the presentation of the petition, and the respondent consents to a decree being granted; or (5) that the parties have lived apart for a continuous period of at least five years immediately preceding the presentation of the petition. 
The <head>behaviour//NN</head> alleged under (1)-(3) above would amount to a matrimonial offence, while the circumstances covered by (4) amount to the first recognition in England of a right of divorce by mutual consent.   
</context>

behaviour-n.800148
<context>
She's had help now, but what a pity, you know, then I guess people weren't so aware of what could be done, but what a pity she couldn't have had help at the time. 
Yes, I think it's &ellip. just to follow on from that {vocal sound="um"} about trusting children to &ellip. to give us the sort of clues that we need to be able to respond to, very often they do that in ways that are not directly associated perhaps with the anxiety that's around, so that they may be expressing their anxiety by just generally difficult <head>behaviour//NN</head> or by wetting the bed at night, 
or maybe being quite disruptive in their play, or provoking other children, and adults who are able to see that sort of behaviour as useful for information for us, so that we can respond appropriately, not out of anger and a {vocal sound="um"} judgemental sort of response, but in a way that we can support their anxiety by &ellip. 
by not getting over excited and + and {vocal sound="um"} responding in a very aggressive way to the very aggression that they're expressing as a result of their anxiety.   
</context>

behaviour-n.800536
<context>
She made the inhaling seagull cry that at that period signified sudden joy. 
Our actual vibrating rush down the runway and our lift into flight and the clunk of the withdrawn landing gear did not distract her from her rapt appreciation of the interior invention: a participatory jet engine for each passenger, with a cream-colored pointed cone of plastic in its center similar to the metallic cones at the rear of the impossibly heavy GE engines outside, whose turbines ground slowly in and out of phase. 
It was a calming bit of self-paced instruction in the <head>behavior//NN</head> of compressible fluids; it was even a useful deception of sorts, since after an hour of feeling that spotlight of air playing over your face, your thoughts full of the remembered sight of contrails in a blue sky as seen from earth &dash. 
the way they first appear like narrow staves of music a little way behind a very high plane, and gradually fatten into shaving-cream crudities before fading &dash. or of cold rides in the back of pickup trucks, when your cheek nerves grew deadened to the insistent flapping of a lock of hair that now doesn't exist, 
or of the print ad for Maxell tape in which a man sits in an armchair and experiences a blast of La Mer from his speakers that sinks him deep into the cushions and flings his tie over his shoulder and tips the shade of the standing lamp, you began to think that if the real jet engines were to fail, 
the plane would float to earth on the output of these tame little verniers alone, as in the parlor trick in which ten guests each use one finger to lift a heavy volunteer &dash. and as the plane lost altitude and the captain flipped desperately through the technical manuals muttering 
</context>

behaviour-n.800736
<context>
Then I would expect that most of your work would be done with the parents of children, rather than children themselves. 
Yes, Elizabeth Howell of Exploring Parenthood, certainly that is the case, both with parents and with people like teachers or child care workers, who are in locus parentis for many hours of the day, and our sense is very much that if the adults around children can feel supported and confident that they can acknowledge their own fears and anxieties that they will then be better be able to transmit that measured response to the children in their care 
and it was very interesting last week, I heard from an educational psychologist in the north of England who said that a group of teachers had asked from several schools to come together to think about the resources that they needed to set in place in order to deal with the children's <head>behaviour//NN</head>, and after the meeting, at which they were able to express their anxieties, 
they then returned to their various areas and when the psychologist contacted them a couple of days later they said we felt sufficiently supported by knowing that others are struggling with the same issues and that we could acknowledge our concerns about it, that we now feel able to get on with the job of helping the children, and I think that was a very good example of adults finding a way to acknowledge  
</context>

behaviour-n.800743
<context>
The variance is disposed of by (1) absorbing it as an overhead cost for the period, (2) rolling it forward as an adjustment for the charging rates during the next period, or (3) retroactively changing rates and adjusting user bills so that the computer center ends up with a zero variance. 
This chargeback scheme suffers from a number of serious defects: The system is complex, expensive to administer, and difficult for users to comprehend  Users generally have considerable difficulty relating their use of the computer to the itemized charges they receive  
The costs levied against a given user depend not only on his own use of the system, but also on other factors over which he has no control (e.g., the efficiency of the data center and the total load on the system); 
consequently, the user may find it difficult to make rational tradeoffs between the cost and value of the services received  Rates are set at a level inversely related to expected demand, leading to undesirable user <head>behavior//NN</head> &dash. for example, if demand goes down, the rates for the remaining users go up, thus further depressing demand  Retroactive adjustment of rates to distribute the residual variance has several perverse effects:
(1) it patently serves no useful managerial purpose in allocating resources, because users have no control over their past usage; (2) it makes planning and budgeting very difficult for users, since they do not know the charges until after their consumption of services; and (3) it does not encourage efficiency on the part of the data   
</context>

behaviour-n.800959
<context>
Joanna Innes, the senior proctor. 
Yes, I wanted to emphasise the way some men feel constrain before, not because I want to suggest it's now becoming a problem for men and we should be worrying about them, but because you asked what prospects there were for doing something about it 
and I think if something's to be done about it, and it's a problem of everyone devising new standards of <head>behaviour//NN</head>, it's very important that quite large numbers of men should be prepared to play a part in trying to work out what these standards should be, and there is quite substantial interest in trying to do that, both at the level of the teaching staff at the university and at the level of the undergraduates.   
</context>

bet-n.800045
<context>
The more money you invest, the greater your chances of wining, but when you enter football pools you should be quite aware that the total amount of stake money that's returned to you in prizes is rather small. 
Of every hundred pounds that's invested, round about forty pounds goes straight to the government in <head>betting//NN</head> duty, round about thirty pounds goes to the football pools in expenses, commissions and profits, leaving round about thirty pounds to be returned in prizes, and so you can see that your rate of return on football pools is extremely small, 
but on the other hand a very large number of people do enter the football pools, and when they win they can win considerable sums of money and it can make absolute rational economic sense to go in for football pools because you are giving yourself a chance, no matter how small, of winning a sum of money that you wouldn't expect to come across in any other way of your life.   
</context>

bet-n.800167
<context>
It depends on your tactics in horse racing. 
If you decided that you're really only interested in long priced horses because you wanted win a large sum of money, so you only started looking at horses that were offered at fifty to one or longer odds than that, 
then if you look at the statistics then you'll find that the rate of return on such <head>bets//NNS</head> is even lower than the rate of return that we've quoted on football pools, but on the other hand if you look at horses which are offered, say, at odds-on or at very low odds, evens, two to one and things like that, then the rate of return is pretty close to a hundred per cent of your money. 
</context>

bother-v.800012
<context>
had a shadow from years in the airstream; and the pitch of your banked, rib-crushing turn toward home would be at exactly the angle at which you had set the ashtray's lid. 
Only much later did I begin to realize that all that childish poking and seat adjustment had been irritating to the strangers in front of and behind me: 
that (at least on short flights) we were not really meant ever to push the seat to its extreme restful tilt, and that in tilting it way back solely for the purpose of taking possession of a window that had been only halfway in our seat area (the seats and the windows were puzzlingly out of synchronization), we were being rude to the woman behind us, 
and especially that any rough treatment of our tray-table latches during flight simulation exercises was transmitted straight through seat foam to the back of the person ahead. 
We were taught the Golden Rule in first and second grades, but it was only after I had begun reviewing TV commercials for a new arts magazine and was flying back from a stormy punctuational session with a copy editor there &dash. 
a time when I thought I had lost all sensitivity to the physical interiors of airplanes and wanted, instead of thinking about the design of air nozzles, to continue reading Pattison's life of Isaac Casaubon &dash. that I noticed and was first <head>bothered//VBD</head> by a rough stowage of the tray table behind me (by an adult!), 
and even then I initially thought not with irritation but with surprise and interest that my absorption in a piece of learned intellectual biography could be interrupted simply by some dufe closing a latch at my back, 
and I went on to wonder whether in twenty years, when Boeing was begging for loan guarantees and sleek airships by Daewoo and Honda with perfect safety records were taxied on every runway, the humble latches on the tray table would be one of the first things in the new non-U.
S. planes to announce their instant superiority, despite the fact that once our tray tables had exemplified the state-of-the-art Murphy-bed modernism of a design sense energized by the war; and I felt pity 
</context>

bother-v.800112
<context>
The Times Literary Supplement was open on my knees to a long review by Grevel Lindop of Coleridge's marginalia, but I had lost interest in it, and though my knees flexed and unflexed, I had the paper adjusted so that it was quiet. 
And surprisingly, I seemed to have rocked my way to a rare stretch of floor and angle of attack that resulted in a nearly silent ride. 
I sat near the bookcase, where we normally gave the Bug her bottle, but instead of the floor's usual contributions &dash. the nail-shank knuckle-pops, the load-bearing grunts, the Curly `nyuck-nyucks" and the crowbarrings of polite inquiry that in forward and backward sequence made up a unique rhythmic bar code for every possible permutation of rocker placement, compass bearing, center of gravity, and level of humidity that could arise in the room &dash. 
instead of this considerable racket, which seemed not to affect the Bug and didn't <head>bother//VB</head> me most of the time, although occasionally I would have fits of indignation that made me think of Schopenhauer's fury at the idle cracking of buggy whips by coachmen on his street, there was at the moment no floor noise at all: 
which meant that nothing could distract the Bug and me from the pleasurable experience of the irregular topography of the floor itself as it was conveyed mutely and sleep-inducingly up through the chair to our bodies.   
</context>

bury-v.800186
<context>
From the instant the news of the terrible national tragedy was flashed across the country, all Americans went into deep mourning for three days which was as long as the experienced television industry had ever been able to measure their attention span before other `news, events had to be introduced to amuse them. 
`News" events were daily mass exorcisms which had been innovated by the Reagan administration (1981--89): the constant moral bloopers; the Grenada mockery; the Lebanese disasters; the Iran-Contra scandals; the Persian Gulf debacles; the Libya fixation; the Supreme Court appointments messes; Congressional committee exposures; 
the charges, arraignments and indictments of high Federal officials beyond any count of corruption in White House history &dash. all of it made subtly glamorous by trivialising it with the word `sleaze"; the most insurmountable budget deficit which the elderly President kicked higher every day, grinning his Harold Teen grin, so proud of his tailoring; 
all of it to keep the electorate from catching on that they were being imperilled by their government and the increasingly unregulated marketplace. 
The wrap-up of the Evaporation was a token funeral, staged for the television networks in Philadelphia, cradle of democracy, officially <head>burying//VBG</head> the government and the Constitution of the United States as the people thought they had known it.   
</context>

bury-v.800274
<context>
I broke the over-sharpened pencil point almost immediately, trying to enter the paper and scoop into a third dimension; and yet three would have fallen almost as short. 
I unzipped the huge crushed-velvet pillow of the blue couch in the living room (where my sister and I sat drawing, and where years later, when I was at Eastman, 
I once lay for four days, banging a tuning fork against my knee and jamming it into my ear and letting the impersonal, stewardessian purity of the A die away until I wasn't sure if I was hearing it or recreating it, in order to force absolute pitch on myself, while I thought about the machine that had crushed the velvet hard enough to leave the permanent wrinkles in which my face was <head>buried//VBD</head>) and I slid my hand into a permanently cool place, but was unenlightened: 
my hand wasn't really in the pillow at all, but merely between the inside of the velvet covering and the muslin of an inner pillow filled with stuffing. 
</context>

calculate-a.800013
<context>
Like a reporter assigned the obituary page, I gathered my envoical emotions together ahead of time to be ready for the loss: I recalled how I once tried to stretch a balloon around an air nozzle but was ordered to sit down before I found out whether it would inflate; and how, while my sister was occupied with a connect-the-dot book, I very stealthily stole her air and aimed it so that I could revel in a twin convergence; 
and how, pretending to study the stewardess-call button, I pointed my mother's, my sister's, and my own nozzles toward my sister and turned them all on full, so that the corner of her half-connected rabbit page flapped out of control. 
As soon as I was sure she was going to cry, I returned nonchalantly to The Family of Man, feigning interest in the shots of dust bowls and calloused hands, but in fact fixing in my mind the straining images of the childbirth sequence &dash. 
the incredible full-lipped ugly powerful arousing frown of the woman pushing amid the hospital sheets &dash. for it, along with a pen-and-ink drawing in a Dover book of Heinrich Kley's drawings, showing a tribal woman giving suck to a foot-and-a-half-tall baby elephant at each full breast, their squeezed mammalian yieldingness beautifully captured by repeatingly sinuous pen strokes, was my pornography between the ages of seven and nine. 
But despite hundreds of examples of <head>calculated//JJ</head> meanness to my sister, on airplanes, on car rides, at dinner tables, she still loved me enough to invite me to her wedding; indeed, she wanted me to be one of the people who read a little biblical something at the ceremony; 
and it was only on the way to this wedding, holding my Bug, the product of my own marriage, up to the air vent above us and seeing how entranced she was by it, that my appreciation of it and the screws and the footrest and the tufted-cloud design on the wall that separated us from first-class passengers, and the portshades and the ashtrays, all returned; 
and I wondered for the first time whether the shape of the nozzle's inner cone was in fact more than decorative, whether it functioned aerodynamically to focus the outflow into a coherent column and allowed it to continue, even at the hissiest stage near shutoff, to offer a palpable incumbency of coolness &dash. 
unlike the gun-sprayers on garden hoses, which just before the flow of water was completely cut off created instead a Panamanian circular fan of mist on a plane perpendicular to the direction you were pointing the hose, so that you couldn't mist the 
</context>

consume-v.800073
<context>
But now that I had the Bug to care for three days a week, I noticed that this phrase, which I had remembered only as something puzzlingly out of character, was coming to mind increasingly frequently, and seeming each time to capture more exactly the real pneumatics of the parental sensation: 
sometimes in looking at the Bug I felt as it I was crumpling up, hunching my shoulders, deflating like a pool-side flotation toy to be folded away for the winter &dash. the same collapsing feeling that Mal Green had induced by forcing me to play the Chiarnovsky in one breath: 
not the vocal hoarseness of prolonged shouting or whispering or even of talking for hours on a long car trip, but the deeper lungier expiration of blowing up a balloon (especially on an empty stomach), and transferring your pneuma to it. 
My mother, who I think loved my sister and me to the point of heart-hoarseness, taught us how to make clay coin banks by blowing up and tying balloons and then wrapping them in gray clay: 
we pinched the surfaces of the clay-covered balloons into guinea pigs or owls or bullfrogs (one of the teaching assistants did a nice caricatured head of my mother), but as we worked we were still able to sense the poppable resilience of the pale spheres underneath. 
And then coin slots were carefully cut and the clay banks were allowed to dry and fired to an off-white gritty color in a kiln: and our selfless balloons within were &dash. my mother taught us the word &dash. `vaporized" in thousands of degrees of heat: 
I shook my heavy frog bank and heard a slight dead-light-bulb tinkle &dash. crumbs no doubt of the vanished but heroic balloon (of the bunchier, tied navel part that always tended downward when the balloon was aloft?), which had been <head>consumed//VBD</head>, along with our hoarse inflating breaths, in order to maintain the essential hollowness around which an animal likeness was only decoration, 
a hollowness I slowly filled with coins I found in the cool depths of the blue couch or under the seat of the car or on the alcove rug near the stereo albums, and then restored once again by sliding the change coin by coin out of the slot with the blade of a butter knife, as a baby-sitter showed us, in order to buy Christmas presents, and then filled up again.   
</context>

derive-v.800007
<context>
The Bug's nostril had the innocent perfection of a Cheerio (and Cheerios were on my mind, since lately we had begun to offer them to her), a tiny dry clean salty ring, so small, with the odd but functional smallness of the tires on passenger planes, or of the smooth rim around the pistil of the brass pump head that you fitted over a tire's stem valve to inflate it to a pressure you preset with a crank on the air machine: 
at first, as the pump head and the stem valve failed to couple, there was a sharp, wasteful hissing, and the dinger tolled freely, but then you got the surfaces to seal and the air began to flow throatily in &dash. each slow decelerating ding now made the tire change shape slightly, as if it were swallowing, 
and the sound of the hiss was released into the tire, where the extra atmospheres gave it an unusual pent resonance (this was truer of car tires than bicycle tires), like the sounds strong dogs made as they strained at leashes, and familiar also from the transformation of the initial chesty sigh of balloon inflation into a space-age-upward-warping effect as the balloon's limit was reached, or the faint, high 
, sonar-like suffix of sound that the expensive kind of textured red rubber playground balls added to the prosaic bounce of extemal impact on concrete: inside, the shock waves flew around the ball (and the balloon and the tire) in unusually high-velocity polyhedrons, delighted by the readiness of their compressed medium to hum their rebounds and lengthen their term of reverberation. 
Air, the unparceled and seemingly infinite plenitude, available world wide, was focused and linearized by the air pump and brought to bear on a single task &dash. and so it was with my lovely Bug, who was able to inhale its transparent liters through a pair of miraculous one-sixteenth-inch portals and as a consequence to live and even to <head>derive//VB</head> amusement from a superball with a swirl in it. 
</context>

excess-a.800037
<context>
Each user should normally bear the costs of the information services provided  Costs charged to users should generally be based on long-term marginal costs &dash. that is, they should exclude costs that will not change significantly over any plausible range of activity, such as the cost of the core management team for the data center  
A small portion of the total central MIS budget &dash. in the range of perhaps 5 to 10% &dash. should be made available for innovative and possibly risky projects that no user department is willing to fund completely on its own  Revenue received from users by the data center should become discretionary `revolving" funds available to support the operation without further budgetary approva  
Costs not controlled through user charges &dash. that is, the fixed cost component of the data center budget plus centrally-funded exploratory projects &dash. should be controlled directly at the corporate level  Standard rates, rather than `actual" (retrospective) costs, should be used as the basis for charging users; these rates should be based on expected volumes and an acceptable level of efficiency over the forthcoming accounting period (a year, say)  
Any variance at the end of the accounting period should normally be absorbed at the data center level, with due management attention paid to the source of the variance  Variances stemming from multiperiod effects (e.g., start-up of a new computer having <head>excess//JJ</head> initial capacity) can be carried over to the following period in setting the new rates  
Users should be charged for any resource dedicated to their specific use (such as a disk drive devoted solely to a nonshared database); multiyear contracts with users of such resources often make particularly good sense  
Unbundle charges &dash. providing a separate `a la carte" price for each individual resource &dash. so that users pay for the services they actually consume rather than on the basis of an average mix of resources  
Use price differentials to motivate desirable user behavior (such as discounting nighttime prices to shift work to a time when idle capacity is available)  
Employ output-related charges when a reasonably standard measure of output exists (e.g., number of credit accounts maintained or invoices issued) rather than input-related charges (e.g., CPU seconds, input/output volume)  
Charge fixed prices for services that have a relatively small (or predictable) demand for resources, such as a fixed monthly price for dedicated workstation and electronic mail services  Use a fixed-price contract for each stage of a software development project, possibly with a fixed upper limit on the project as a whole  For large development   
</context>

excess-n.800019
<context>
The Publisher will pay the Proprietor the sum of Can $55,000 (fifty five thousand Canadian dollars) for the outright purchase of the master video tape as specified in Schedule II. 
The Publisher will pay the Proprietor the following royalties on sales of the Work  Video Cassettes (Classroom Version) &dash. 6% (six per cent) of the Publisher's net receipts on the first 500 copies of each cassette sold (irrespective for format or standard) &dash. 8% (eight per cent) of the Publisher's net receipts on all copies between 501 and 1,000 copies sold &dash. 
10% (ten per cent) of the Publisher's net receipts on all copies between 1,001 and 2,000 copies sold  &dash. 12% (twelve per cent) of the Publisher's net receipts on all copies between 2,001 and 10,000 copies sold  &dash. 14% (fourteen per cent) of the Publisher's net receipts on all copies sold in excess of 10,000 copies   Student's Activity Books (Classroom Version) &dash. 
12% (twelve per cent) of the Publisher's net receipts on the first 20,000 copies sold  &dash. 15% (fifteen per cent) of the Publisher's net receipts on all copies between 20,001 and 50,000 copies sold  &dash. 16% (sixteen per cent) of the Publisher's net receipts on all copies sold in excess of 50,000 copies   Teacher's Video Guide &dash. 10% (ten per cent) of the Publisher's net receipts on all copies sold  Self Study Version &dash. 
4% (four per cent) of the Publisher's net receipts on the first 1,000 units sold &dash. 8% (eight per cent) of the Publisher's net receipts on all units sold between 1,001 and 2,000 units &dash. 10% (ten percent) of the Publisher's net receipts on all units sold between 2,001 and 5,000 units &dash. 12% (twelve per cent) of the Publisher's net receipts on all units sold in <head>excess//NNP</head> of 5,000 units   
</context>

float-v.800051
<context>
Was it program music? 
Only in the sense (as I would have to explain at defensive length in the program notes) that the daintily vortical second movement of La Mer was program music: and indeed the sound of the air entering the peanut butter jar was meant lovingly to sum up Debussy's lifelong fascination with air &dash. his interest in a technique of piano pedaling that would approximate breathing; 
his wish for a music whose harmonic progressions, although they might sound stifled in the concert hall, would once out of doors enter into a collaboration with the open air and <head>float//VB</head> joyfully over the tops of the trees; his piano preludes, whose titles (`Voiles," `Le Vent dans la plaine," `Les sons et les parfums tournent dans l'air du soir," `Ce qu'a vu le vent d'ouest," `Brouillards," and so on) repeatedly made aerial references; 
the recollections by Gabriel Pierne&acute. and Camille Bellaigue that his piano technique was accompanied by his `puffing noisily during the difficult passages" and by `a kind of hiccup or harsh puff" to mark the beginning of every bar. 
</context>

float-v.800191
<context>
She made the inhaling seagull cry that at that period signified sudden joy. 
Our actual vibrating rush down the runway and our lift into flight and the clunk of the withdrawn landing gear did not distract her from her rapt appreciation of the interior invention: a participatory jet engine for each passenger, with a cream-colored pointed cone of plastic in its center similar to the metallic cones at the rear of the impossibly heavy GE engines outside, whose turbines ground slowly in and out of phase. 
It was a calming bit of self-paced instruction in the behavior of compressible fluids; it was even a useful deception of sorts, since after an hour of feeling that spotlight of air playing over your face, your thoughts full of the remembered sight of contrails in a blue sky as seen from earth &dash. 
the way they first appear like narrow staves of music a little way behind a very high plane, and gradually fatten into shaving-cream crudities before fading &dash. or of cold rides in the back of pickup trucks, when your cheek nerves grew deadened to the insistent flapping of a lock of hair that now doesn't exist, or of the print ad for Maxell tape in which a man sits in an armchair 
and experiences a blast of La Mer from his speakers that sinks him deep into the cushions and flings his tie over his shoulder and tips the shade of the standing lamp, you began to think that if the real jet engines were to fail, the plane would <head>float//VB</head> to earth on the output of these tame little verniers alone, as in the parlor trick in which ten guests each use one finger to lift a heavy volunteer &dash. 
and as the plane lost altitude and the captain flipped desperately through the technical manuals muttering 
</context>

generous-a.800080
<context>
And I suppose there's a sense in which the child gains because the parents are that much happier and fulfilled? 
Yes, the frustrated mother can't be <head>generous//JJ</head> and so forth with her child, and on the whole I think the emphasis that people used to put on mothers staying at home was very misguided, because a mother who's having to sacrifice all her outside interests for the sake of her child is just a frustrated mother, and it's not good for the &ellip. 
also the problem is that you then have fairly energetic women devoting all they have to children, then they over-invest in the child's own achievements, so in fact you are putting a great psychological burden on the child because it has to grow up fulfilling expectations of an adult, which is not right for a child.  
</context>

giant-a.800433
<context>
But no! 
Instead of letting them go back into that hell-hole, she transported them, in her imagination, to the campus: the entire workforce &dash. labourers, craftsmen, supervisors, managers, directors, secretaries and cleaners and cooks, in their grease-stiff dungarees and soiled overalls and chain-store frocks and striped suits &dash. brought them in buses across the city, and unloaded them at the gates of the campus, 
and let them wander through it in a long procession, like a lost army, headed by Danny Ram and the two Sikhs from the cupola and the <head>giant//JJ</head> black from the knock-out, their eyes rolling white in their swarthy, soot-blackened faces, as they stared about them with bewildered curiosity at the fine buildings and the trees and flowerbeds and lawns, and at the beautiful young people at work or play all around them. 
</context>

knee-n.800308
<context>
I'm having physiotherapy as well at the moment. 
Any of my old school friends in Wallingford that know me {vocal sound="um"} well they'll just never believe that I can run 26 miles because I don't know if when you were at school, but when {vocal sound="um"} when we used to have a cross-country run I was the one at the back and usually the P.
E. instructor used to go round and whack us with a slipper, you know the slow ones and I was unfortunately one of those, but {vocal sound="um"} now I've been running with the Bicester Road Runners for what 2 years, {vocal sound="um"} half, 
I've done a few half marathons, nothing anywhere near 26 miles, I've, my furthest run until yesterday was 16 miles, and yesterday, injured, with a bandage round my <head>knee//NN</head>, I managed 18 miles, and I'm pleased to say it's still holding out and I'm quietly confident that I'm going to complete this, 
and like I say, if I can {vocal sound="um"} well, just get the local businesses in Bicester interested and to support me, I say however small, just a, you know, if they, a penny a mile from just a few of the businesses in Bicester and, well, the Bible school could have, you know, a few pounds coming to them, which I'm sure   
</context>

knee-n.800343
<context>
I broke the over-sharpened pencil point almost immediately, trying to enter the paper and scoop into a third dimension; and yet three would have fallen almost as short. 
I unzipped the huge crushed-velvet pillow of the blue couch in the living room (where my sister and I sat drawing, and where years later, when I was at Eastman, I once lay for four days, banging a tuning fork against my <head>knee//NN</head> and jamming it into my ear and letting the impersonal, stewardessian purity of the A die away until I wasn't sure if I was hearing it or recreating it, in order to force absolute pitch on myself, 
while I thought about the machine that had crushed the velvet hard enough to leave the permanent wrinkles in which my face was buried) and I slid my hand into a permanently cool place, but was unenlightened: my hand wasn't really in the pillow at all, but merely between the inside of the velvet covering and the muslin of an inner pillow filled with stuffing. 
</context>

promise-a.800504
<context>
Yeah, not too bad. 
We {vocal sound="um"} we got very close to beating Bellevue at Bellevue which was ok I mean everybody's a bit rusty so and we were experimenting with tyres and everything and {vocal sound="um"} it was only a challenge, but it was nice to get the first meeting on the way and {vocal sound="um"} I was very impressed by some of {vocal sound="um"} the team members of what I saw, 
I knew {vocal sound="um"} team mate Dean Bargger was doing particularly well scoring 11 points and {vocal sound="um"} he's really a <head>promising//JJ</head> {vocal sound="um"} youngster which I think we can get a lot of use out of, and {vocal sound="um"} in general I mean you know Ellis Stevens was doing particularly well as well, 
so if those two can keep doing well during the season, then ok mine had a few problems, she only scored 3 points, but that was just a one-off so yeah I thing we look quite strong on paper again now.   
</context>

promise-a.800664
<context>
It is impossible to put in capsule form all the myriad tasks necessary to build such a base, but certainly the following actions must be taken: 
Develop long-term aggregate estimates (e.g., over three to five years) of capacity requirements, along with the necessary staffing and funding   Develop detailed short-term budgets (e.g., over a two-year horizon) for MIS activities within the general guidelines of the longer-term plan  Develop means for educating users in MIS concepts  Manage procedures for attracting, training, and providing attractive career paths for the technical staff  Plan 
and manage the implementation and operation of a communications network  Plan and manage the implementation and operation of data sharing mechanisms (e.g., data dictionary, database management system, data administration)  Plan and manage the installation of office information systems, with special emphasis on text processing, interpersonal communications, and document transmission  Plan and manage the implementation of centrally developed application programs  
Plan and manage user support services  Provide a high-productivity software development environment (e.g., 4GLs, extensive program library, interactive debugging facilities with subsecond response)  Develop procedures for project planning and control 
Develop procedures for budgeting and charging for information services, including both user- and centrally-funded activities  Develop vendor selection policies (e.g., a single- versus multiple-vendor environment)  Develop software acquisition policies (e.g., make versus buy) Develop mechanisms for identifying and introducing <head>promising//JJ</head> new technology  The list could go on &dash. the   
</context>

promise-a.802056
<context>
`Straight from the jar, baby!" 
I said. 
Soon she had a stomach profile as smoothly Bernoullian as my model-building Skippy spoonfuls, and I, perhaps influenced by that anecdote in Shakespeare about the votaress who got pregnant and grew, like a sail, `big-bellied with the wanton wind," 
began to visualize her lying with her legs strapped down in a wind tunnel wearing a shiny leotard, giving teasing effleurage to her dome, calling for a technician to apply some Chap Stick to her lips from time to time, while I, a <head>promising//JJ</head> young engineer at work on the next generation of airbus wings, evaluated the inexplicable magnitude of lift her Bug-mound aroused in the moaning tunnel's air by pumping luminous gases through the smoke rake 
and watching their streaklines veer upward and interlace, laminarity disrupted by the brief fuss of her pubic hair, shedding into elaborate lasso shapes and beehives of induced flow that after only a few minutes of flight-speed wind made the entire research installation knock and shiver with worrisome resonances.   
</context>

promise-n.800455
<context>
No reliance could be placed on the doctrine of promissory estoppel which was only adumbrated before the court. 
Following the view of the majority in Ward v Byham (1956) 1 WLR 496 and of the whole court in Williams v Williams (1957) 1 WLR 148 and of the Privy Council in Pao On v Lau Yiu Long (1989) AC 614, in which economic duress was considered, the present state of the law could be expressed in the following proposition: 
(i) If A had entered into a contract with B to do work for, or supply goods or services to, B in return for payment by B, and (ii) at some stage before A had completely performed his obligations under the contract B had reason to doubt whether A would, or would be able to, complete his side of the bargain; and (ii) B thereupon promised A an additional payment in return for A's promise to perform his contractual obligations on time; and 
(iv) as a result of giving his promise, B obtained in practice a benefit or obviated a disbenefit; and (v) B's promise was not given as the result of economic duress or fraud on the part of A; then (vi) the benefit to B was capable of being consideration for B's promise, so that the <head>promise//NN</head> would be legally binding. 
</context>

promise-n.801180
<context>
He made the pronouncement with the same intelligent ironic tone he had used (so Patty related it) two years earlier, when he first saw the somewhat ornate Victorian engagement ring that my widowed maternal grandmother had given me to give to her, and he had said, `Well! &dash. it's certainly not vulgarly discreet." 
But the Bug's nose, its infantile tininess combining with its monstrous <head>promise//NN</head>, was at the moment one of her nicest features, and the best thing about it was what it shared with all babies' noses: 
not the gargoylian turn of its wings, which was from Patty's parents, nor the palpable bump at the bridge, which might at puberty bulk itself into a `Beal Breakfront," as those who had married into my mother's family, the Beals, had called it among themselves Lor several generations &dash. no, what was finest about the Bug's nose was the same amazing thing I had noticed at age five when shown a neighbor's newborn: it was so clean inside. 
</context>

promise-v.801940
<context>
In all such cases you may not be satisfied to receive even large damages for the wrong done; and what the amount of damages is to be may be very uncertain. 
At any rate, if damages are the only thing to be got, your wealthy neighbour might buy the right to annoy you. 
It was to meet cases of this kind that Equity invented the great remedies of specific performance and injunction: specific performance to compel a man actually to do what he has <head>promised//VBD</head> &dash. to give you the land in return for the money, to pay you the purchase money in return for the land; injunction to forbid him to do what he has promised not to do or what he has no right to do &dash.
to forbid him to open the public house or the music-school, to forbid him to build so as to block up your light, even to compel him to pull down the objectionable wall; the last sort of injunction is called mandatory.   
</context>

sanction-p.800034
<context>
Now of course, some people might say well the Iranians {vocal sound="um"} haven't covered themselves with glory one way and another in the last few years, and that of course, is true. 
But unfortunately, in international relations, you have to {vocal sound="um"} work with, with the grain, and if it is a case that the Iranians are taking a fairly {vocal sound="um"} tough line on Iraq, 
well this is clearly to be encouraged because Saddam Hussein must be {vocal sound="um"} surrounded, he must be isolated, the <head>sanctions</head> must work, and I'm sorry to say this, but the country of Iraq must suffer in order that those sanction work, because if it doesn't suffer, and if the sanctions don't work, there is a danger of war, and that will be immensely costly to our side as well as being the end for Saddam Hussein.   
</context>

shake-p.800076
<context>
In Robina Sandel's opinion, the phenomena undoubtedly witnessed could be laid fair and square at the door of her niece, Tilda. 
Not necessarily known as a superstitious woman, Robina was soon talking of poltergeists; and if Dr Freud had been brought into the picture as well, he would probably have been the first to agree with Robina's other diagnosis, that Tilda's psychic state was due to her recent shock in the basement (where, it went without saying, she had left her clothes untidily herself, the mess being in no way the responsibility of the prowler or other invader) 
and that the state in which she now found herself was in all likelihood due to an innate guilt on the subject of untidiness, imbued in her by a mother who suffered from `Housewife's Neurosis". 
However it was looked at, Robina stressed, Tilda came up those stairs from the basement as white as a sheet and <head>shaking</head>.   
</context>

shake-p.800308
<context>
But now that I had the Bug to care for three days a week, I noticed that this phrase, which I had remembered only as something puzzlingly out of character, was coming to mind increasingly frequently, and seeming each time to capture more exactly the real pneumatics of the parental sensation: 
sometimes in looking at the Bug I felt as it I was crumpling up, hunching my shoulders, deflating like a pool-side flotation toy to be folded away for the winter &dash. the same collapsing feeling that Mal Green had induced by forcing me to play the Chiarnovsky in one breath: 
not the vocal hoarseness of prolonged shouting or whispering or even of talking for hours on a long car trip, but the deeper lungier expiration of blowing up a balloon (especially on an empty stomach), and transferring your pneuma to it. 
My mother, who I think loved my sister and me to the point of heart-hoarseness, taught us how to make clay coin banks by blowing up and tying balloons and then wrapping them in gray clay: we pinched the surfaces of the clay-covered balloons into guinea pigs or owls or bullfrogs (one of the teaching assistants did a nice caricatured head of my mother), but as we worked we were still able to sense the poppable resilience of the pale spheres underneath. 
And then coin slots were carefully cut and the clay banks were allowed to dry and fired to an off-white gritty color in a kiln: and our selfless balloons within were &dash. my mother taught us the word &dash. `vaporized" in thousands of degrees of heat: I <head>shook</head> my heavy frog bank and heard a slight dead-light-bulb tinkle &dash. 
crumbs no doubt of the vanished but heroic balloon (of the bunchier, tied navel part that always tended downward when the balloon was aloft?), which had been consumed, along with our hoarse inflating breaths, in order to maintain the essential hollowness around which an animal likeness was only decoration, 
a hollowness I slowly filled with coins I found in the cool depths of the blue couch or under the seat of the car or on the alcove rug near the stereo albums, and then restored once again by sliding the change coin by coin out of the slot with the blade of a butter knife, as a baby-sitter showed us, in order to buy Christmas presents, and then filled up again.   
</context>

shirt-n.800256
<context>
The Camp Fire Girls filed out; I hovered, but I was too aware of a museum staff person waiting outside to try to touch TAM's knee. 
And bicycling home I found that already TAM'S knee, her nude immobile physical self, was becoming less interesting than the idea of the real woman who had been paid to do TAM'S voice. 
Even years later I would think of this unknown woman in the recording studio with the script in front of her, leaning very close to the microphone so that every intimate palatal event that accompanied her words was recorded, reading about her innocent spleen or thyroid or skeletal system, and yet thinking as she took her professional breaths at each set of dot-dot-dots that the moment when she would have to say, `And these are my breasts," was coming ever closer: 
Would she bring out the sentence with the relaxed, full-lipped, mature aplomb that she as a trained and highly paid voice was expected to have, when reading these words was in the world of sound equivalent to standing up in the thickly carpeted room and letting her <head>shirt//NN</head> fall open and holding her arms apart for the instantly tit-maddened audio technicians beyond the glass?   
</context>

shirt-n.800363
<context>
For this silhouette has all the necessary attributes to take over the next decade &dash. it is practical, it is versatile: like its wearer, it works. 
Photographs (omitted): Left: Grey flannel jacket, #77.90; tartan yellow ski pants, #38.90, both by Benetton, at major branches nationwide; white cotton shirt with pointed collar, #55, by Whistles, 12-14 St Christopher's Place, London W1 and branches nationwide; black suede desert boots, also in burgundy, #29.99, by Next Accessory, 54-60 Kensington High Street, London W8 and branches nationwide Right: 
Bordeaux wool mock turtle neck sweater, #35, by John Smedley, at Whistles; Sam Fisher, 32-33 Burlington Arcade, London W1; Way In at Harrods, Knightsbridge, London SW1; Flannels, 4 St Anne's Place, Manchester; Cruise, 39 Renfield Street, Glasgow; grey wool shawl collar single breasted jacket, #242, by Frits Klaarenbeck/Soap Studio, at Dar and Dar, 53 Monmouth Street, London WC2; 
The Square, 3-34 The Corridor, Bath; Going Dutch, 7 Rosemount Viaduct, Aberdeen; wine Liberty print ski pants, #67, by Francine Seward, at Liberty, Regent Street, London W1; wine cashmere embroidered shawl, #135, at Whistles; black patent leather ankle boots, by Stephane Kelian, 49a Sloane Street, London SW1 Left: 
Brown wool pinstripe jacket , #585; white cotton <head>shirt//NN</head> with ruffle collar, #240; brown velvet high-waisted ski pants, #175; sage green suede shoes, from a selection from #170; gold embroidered gauze scarf with tassles and fringing, #280, all by Romeo Gigli, at Browns, 23-27 South Molton Street, London W1; 6c Sloane Street, London SW1 Above: 
Cream Sea Island cotton sweater, #35, by John Smedley as before; cream wool gaberdine jacket, #179, by Et Vous, at Whistles, as before; loden green cotton Lycra ski pants, #19.99, by Debbie Moore for Pineapple, 6a Langley Street, London WC2 Above: Lime green wool jacket; lime green narrow pants, sold as a suit, #619, by Zuccoli; at A la Mode, 36 Hans Crescent, London SW1.   
</context>

shirt-n.800457
<context>
Embroidered silks, old gold Fortuny-look-alike pleated scarves can change the look for evening, along with old lace, rich patterned textiles, ropes of jet or amber beads: the basic line is simple enough to take elaborate additions. 
For this silhouette has all the necessary attributes to take over the next decade &dash. it is practical, it is versatile: like its wearer, it works. 
Photographs (omitted): Left: Grey flannel jacket, #77.90; tartan yellow ski pants, #38.90, both by Benetton, at major branches nationwide; white cotton <head>shirt//NN</head> with pointed collar, #55, by Whistles, 12-14 St Christopher's Place, London W1 and branches nationwide; black suede desert boots, also in burgundy, #29.99, by Next Accessory, 54-60 Kensington High Street, London W8 and branches nationwide Right: 
Bordeaux wool mock turtle neck sweater, #35, by John Smedley, at Whistles; Sam Fisher, 32-33 Burlington Arcade, London W1; Way In at Harrods, Knightsbridge, London SW1; Flannels, 4 St Anne's Place, Manchester; Cruise, 39 Renfield Street, Glasgow; grey wool shawl collar single breasted jacket, #242, by Frits Klaarenbeck/Soap Studio, at Dar and Dar, 53 Monmouth Street, London WC2; 
The Square, 3-34 The Corridor, Bath; Going Dutch, 7 Rosemount Viaduct, Aberdeen; wine Liberty print ski pants, #67, by Francine Seward, at Liberty, Regent Street, London W1; wine cashmere embroidered shawl, #135, at Whistles; black patent leather ankle boots, by Stephane Kelian, 49a Sloane Street, London SW1 Left: Brown wool pinstripe jacket 
</context>

shirt-n.800511
<context>
`She likes it," I would say, but I didn't do it very often. 
After I had cut down my time at work to two days a week and had really bonded with the Bug, I grew bold one afternoon, stunned at the perfect love-inspiring beauty of her round glowing face as she lay on the changing table studying a small superball she held in her hands, after I had wiped her captivating little coffee bean of a pudendum and put on a new diaper, the air filled with the fresh sound of crinkly plastic as she kicked experimentally, 
and after I had rolled up the old gel-puffed diaper into a tight hoagie and secured it with its own adhesive tabs: I bent low toward her face, filling her vision with a pretend-amazed expression, and deliberately tasted, or rather touched my tongue tip to the perimeter of, one of her nostril openings. 
She pushed me away uninterestedly, staring in complete concentration at the swirling blue and red injections in the amber-colored superball (originally a stocking-stuffer from me to Patty, but like many of the toys we had once given to each other, now finding a secondary life as a Bug-diversion), 
but for me the sensation marked a new stage of love for her, as when a cat touches your hand with its nose and jumps back at the static and yet is willing to try to sniff you again, or when one time in college Patty got out of my dorm bed with only a dark blue <head>T-shirt//NN</head> on and discovered a dime stuck to her bottom, because we had been sleeping all night in change that had poured at some stage of arousal from my pants pockets the night before, 
and said sleepily, without puzzlement, `Dime on my bottom," and put it on my desk, and I had used it as a bookmark for several years after that, erasing a stripe in it to single it out. 
</context>

slight-a.800204
<context>
But now that I had the Bug to care for three days a week, I noticed that this phrase, which I had remembered only as something puzzlingly out of character, was coming to mind increasingly frequently, and seeming each time to capture more exactly the real pneumatics of the parental sensation: 
sometimes in looking at the Bug I felt as it I was crumpling up, hunching my shoulders, deflating like a pool-side flotation toy to be folded away for the winter &dash. the same collapsing feeling that Mal Green had induced by forcing me to play the Chiarnovsky in one breath: 
not the vocal hoarseness of prolonged shouting or whispering or even of talking for hours on a long car trip, but the deeper lungier expiration of blowing up a balloon (especially on an empty stomach), and transferring your pneuma to it. 
My mother, who I think loved my sister and me to the point of heart-hoarseness, taught us how to make clay coin banks by blowing up and tying balloons and then wrapping them in gray clay: 
we pinched the surfaces of the clay-covered balloons into guinea pigs or owls or bullfrogs (one of the teaching assistants did a nice caricatured head of my mother), but as we worked we were still able to sense the poppable resilience of the pale spheres underneath. 
And then coin slots were carefully cut and the clay banks were allowed to dry and fired to an off-white gritty color in a kiln: and our selfless balloons within were &dash. my mother taught us the word &dash. `vaporized" in thousands of degrees of heat: 
I shook my heavy frog bank and heard a <head>slight//JJ</head> dead-light-bulb tinkle &dash. crumbs no doubt of the vanished but heroic balloon (of the bunchier, tied navel part that always tended downward when the balloon was aloft?), which had been consumed, along with our hoarse inflating breaths, in order to maintain the essential hollowness around which an animal likeness was only decoration, 
a hollowness I slowly filled with coins I found in the cool depths of the blue couch or under the seat of the car or on the alcove rug near the stereo albums, and then restored once again by sliding the change coin by coin out of the slot with the blade of a butter knife, as a baby-sitter showed us, in order to buy Christmas presents, and then filled up again.   
</context>

slight-a.800316
<context>
Was it program music? 
Only in the sense (as I would have to explain at defensive length in the program notes) that the daintily vortical second movement of La Mer was program music: and indeed the sound of the air entering the peanut butter jar was meant lovingly to sum up Debussy's lifelong fascination with air &dash. his interest in a technique of piano pedaling that would approximate breathing; 
his wish for a music whose harmonic progressions, although they might sound stifled in the concert hall, would once out of doors enter into a collaboration with the open air and float joyfully over the tops of the trees; his piano preludes, whose titles (`Voiles," `Le Vent dans la plaine," `Les sons et les parfums tournent dans l'air du soir," `Ce qu'a vu le vent d'ouest," `Brouillards," and so on) repeatedly made aerial references; 
the recollections by Gabriel Pierne&acute. and Camille Bellaigue that his piano technique was accompanied by his `puffing noisily during the difficult passages" and by `a kind of hiccup or harsh puff" to mark the beginning of every bar. 
I worried that the audience wouldn't have time to get all this if the jar opened too readily, and therefore I hoped that the percussionist would by chance encounter one of those infrequent Peter Pans or Skippy Creamies that was the product of an improperly calibrated piece of screwing machinery, so that as he struggled covertly to turn the lid, increasingly embarrassed and frustrated, his jaw clenched; 
his fiercely whispered `You little piece of shit!" sizzling from the loudspeaker horns, his membership in the musicians' union suddenly open to doubt, and as he fussily excused himself to go backstage and run the jar under hot water for a minute, we all might use that lucky delay to think of the meteorological greatness stored and quality-sealed in La Mer or, more likely, of times when we had undergone similar failures with jars of peanut butter (or jelly or spaghetti sauce) &dash. 
when we, or I at least, determined to succeed on a third attempt, pretwisted my hands and allowed the drumstick of thumb flesh on my right hand to settle over the <head>slight//JJ</head> tractive fluting on the edge of the lid, while the fingers of this same hand curled and clamped to its curvature, all of them leaning to one side 
</context>

wooden-a.800032
<context>
So far archaeologists from the Fenland Archaeological Trust &dash. working with the local metal detector club &dash. have unearthed: Twenty complete or fragmentary swords and daggers, most of which appear to have been deliberately broken. 
These date from 1100 BC to 200 BC; Fragments of two eighth-century BC beaten bronze ceremonial helmets &dash. the earliest military headgear found in Britain; An eighth-century BC battle axe, with the <head>wooden//JJ</head> handle deliberately broken, and five spear fragments; An eleventh-century BC bracelet made of jet inlaid with lead; 
One hundred large bronze garment-fastening pins with massive heads &dash. many decorated with geometric designs; Six fifth to second-century BC brooches &dash. several of which are inlaid with coral and tin; Twelve fragments of horse harness fittings; Forty rings, some made of tin; Eighteen chisels and awls &dash. including one with a bone handle; A unique pair of fifth-century BC shears inside a wooden box.   
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wooden-a.800338
<context>
The more technical courses, descriptive geometry, shades and shadows, and perspective were taught by Philip Whitney, Professor of Graphics, and George Baumeister, then an instructor in graphics. 
We worked at first in pencil on yellow detail paper, beginning very much at the beginning, learning how to sharpen pencils (there was nothing available except <head>wooden//JJ</head> pencils that had to be sharpened with a knife in those days), learning to control lines, what kind of eraser to use for what purpose, how to keep a sheet clean by masking or tacking down strips of paper to keep the instruments riding somewhat above the surface, 
how to rotate the pencil along the triangle and T-square and how to get the correct angle to keep the edge of the instrument clean by preventing the grinding off of lead dust in the line drawing process, and on and on.   
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band-p.800409
<context>
`Sail Away" was introduced as a reminder of the plight of the boat people ('The British can do the best and the worst to people'), `He Looks Like Spencer Tracy Now" (a song about an American photographer who captured the Hiroshima mushroom cloud on film) was dedicated to the CND women who said: 
`We're not going to have your shite on our doorstep", and, most popularly, `Wages Day" became an anthem for `the good ambulance men of London town", as we were exhorted to put a spare quid in the buckets outside the arena to give them `some kind of Christmas".
Just when it seemed that he might raise a fist or resort to banner-waving indulgences, he de-charged the atmosphere, hamming up some frenzied rock-star spoofery, `Oh God, you're all fantastic, I can hardly control myself," as he fell offstage into the arms of a strategically-placed steward who permitted a young blonde to plant a smacker on his cheek before resurrecting him to the microphone.
The humour didn't always fire &dash. a skit about a sad chip-eating Glaswegian being serenaded by a Salvation Army <head>band</head> wouldn't have raised a guffaw on a Sunday night at an Outer Hebridean Palladium.
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band-p.800515
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That's the better, which is to say bearable stuff, a paltry third of the album.
The rest is just dull: New Order offer a live version of `Sister Ray" which bears scant relation to anything in the Velvet Underground songbook, even scorning the use of the original lyrics; 
the hardcore guitar blitzkriegs, never the strongest or most original tracks, fall this time to Live Skull, the Henry Rollins <head>Band</head>, feminist speedcore outfit PMS, and Giorno's Band; and performance artist Karen Finley &dash. known colloquially as `Yams Up The Bum" Finley, after the alleged `highlight" of her act &dash. continues to foist her sad psycho-sexual sickness off on us in the guise of art with a (presumably stream-of-consciousness) rant entitled `Party Animal".
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band-p.800760
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But then The Residents aren't exactly your ordinary pop group.
They are pop conceptualists, whose CV is littered with oddball projects and notions, many involving years of hard work for little or no kudos. 1974's Not Available, for instance, was originally intended to be released only when the group had forgotten about it (their record company released it, allegedly without their knowledge, five years later); 
Eskimo (1980) initiated their interest in anthropology, telling Eskimo tales in an archaic language while the Mole Trilogy (four albums, of course) told of the longstanding dispute between two mythical peoples, the Moles and the Chubs, and included one LP by a fictional <head>band</head> called The Big Bubble.
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behaviour-n.800572
<context>
Diaries have proved by far the most vivid source for intimate family life in early modern England.
When Thomas Turner, Sussex village shopkeeper turned thirty, confides his deep hurt at `the seeming distant <head>behaviour//NN</head> with which my mother treated me today, seeming so mistrustful that I should cheat her", he takes us right to the heart of the complex mixture of love and pain which then as now underlies the relationship between adult children and the older generation: 
Oh, what pleasure would it be to me were there a good understanding between my mother and myself, when I am assured if I know my own heart, that I am so far from having any ill against her that I have almost undone myself to serve her &ellip
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modest-a.800001
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The opening of the Britten Award not only to all genres but to all substantial new British works of the current decade raises both the general problem of how one appraises an opera as against an electronic work as against a piano trio, and the awesome possibility that an ultimate choice might have to be made between Tippett's upcoming opera New Year, Birtwistle's Mask of Orpheus, Goehr's Behold the Sun, and Maw's monster Odyssey &dash. 
though one could imagine a canny jury evading such a battle of the blockbusters by choosing, say, Judith Weir's engaging A Night at the Chinese Opera (the enlightened cachet of a woman composer too!).
In evident apprehension that such a prospect might frighten off the young or composers of more <head>modest//JJ</head> forms &dash. so that the danger of a Grand Old Man Prize became self-fulfilling &dash. the Foundation states that `the Award will be made in recognition of innovation and achievement".
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promise-a.801453
<context>
L'Ecole d'Orphee, the renowned Early Music ensemble specialising in the repertoire of 17th- and 18th-century France, performs Guillemain's delightful Conversations amusantes et galantes as well as pieces by Couperin, Rameau, Marais, Telemann, and Boismortier. 
7.30 Wigmore Hall #3.20-#7 NOTTINGHAM Sir Charles Groves conducts the English Sinfonia Orchestra in symphonies by Haydn (No 92, the `Oxford") and Mozart (No 38, the `Prague"), and Trumpet Concertos by Hummel (in E flat) and Stamitz (in D) with soloist Hakan Hardenberger. 7.30 Royal Centre #5.50-#9.50 EDINBURGH John Dowland's Lachrimae is here performed along with other works by the acclaimed melancholic by the Scottish Early Music Consort. 7.45 Queen's Hall.
FRIDAY Pictures at an Exhibition Ravel's orchestral transcription of Mussorgsky's celebrated work played by the London Philharmonia. 7.
30 RFH #2.50- #5 Bach and Handel played by the London Bach Orchestra directed by Nicholas Kraemer, with Patrizia Kwella (sop), Linda Hirst (mezzo), Christopher Gillet (tenor) and Nicholas Sears (bass).
Bach Canata No 205 (Der Zufriedengestellte Aeolus) and the Royal Fireworks Suite. 7.45 QEH #6- #11 Debut Recital for a <head>promising//JJ</head> soprano.
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promise-n.801192
<context>
I have to, I need to go big job."
Of course we had each been vaguely aware of intervals before that moment when the other had disappeared into the bathroom and then reappeared with a slightly uneasy look, and we may even have occasionally spoken of the act of `number two," 
but Patty's forthright statement, using an idiom that was quite new to me, which she said she had learned visiting friends once in Minnesota (and in that offering of novelty supplying another instance of why I needed her in my life), held the thrilling <head>promise//NN</head> that now that we were engaged, we would be in no doubt about the specific purpose of our trips to the bathroom.
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promise-v.800917
<context>
Insanity of course, is very proud of its rules, it doesn't want just anyone to join its club.
What was strange about Rush was the easy commerce between the apparently normal and the transparently crazy, and the fact that the building bricks of the edifice Rush was constructing, the words, the phrases, the sentences, some of the ideas, were the currency of the normal, the everyday. 
just as poisons were chains of chemicals, which, linked in another order, might create, and not destroy life, so Henry saw cliche&acute., comedy, real pain and even rational intelligence glimmer fitfully in his speech, <head>promise//VB</head> the great human achievement, coherence, only to see them, seconds later, gutter out in the wind and the rain that blew through his skull.
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