Thus, sordidly, ends the era of one of Africa's great dictators.
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Chris Christie of New Jersey was shamelessly, almost sordidly, political, trading on Sept.
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Is there a bleaker opera than Berg's "Lulu," with its wrenching 12-tone score and sordidly depressing story?
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Writer/director Ari Aster has made something sordidly devastating, and Toni Collette leads the way in convincing us in the moment that this something is real.
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"Destroyer" was among the most unexpected, just because the premise — Ms. Kidman plays Erin Bell, a dissolute, alcoholic Los Angeles detective with a sordidly violent past — sounded preposterous, even faintly risible.
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These alternate with scenes set in the present, at the funeral home and the house where the father ended his days sordidly, sitting in his own excrement and surrounded by empty bottles.
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His judgment has not been flawless: Mr. Gelb admits that retiring the lavish Zeffirelli "Tosca" was a mistake, since the sordidly modern Luc Bondy staging that succeeded it was generally savaged by audiences and critics.
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In that way, the Guggenheim's sordidly fascinating show offers more than a gaze at an off-ramp of art history; it lets us face up to the hunger, common today but usually disavowed, for an art that promises an escape from the world at hand.
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But a more sordidly transactional sort of liberalism, a progressive president whose supporters and scribes are pre-disillusioned rather than panting for the Big Win, might be a tonic for the right — not one that cures all paranoias (just ask Drudge), but one that discourages the right's search for a Caesar of its own.
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The shell reaches a height of 0.8 mm. The small shell is turbinately depressed and umbilicate. It is sordidly white, dull, and thin. The spire is low and tabulated.
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In another letter, evenings at the "big house"—Edward stayed at York Cottage with his father—were recorded as "sordidly dull and boring". His antipathy to the house was unlikely to have been lessened by his late father's will, which was read to the family in the saloon at the house. His brothers were each left £750,000 while Edward was bequeathed no monetary assets beyond the revenues from the Duchy of Cornwall. A codicil also prevented him from selling the late King's personal possessions; Lascelles described the inheritance as "the Kingship without the cash".
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The diarist John Evelyn made the following characteristically waspish entry for 16 March 1683 > "I went to see Sir Josiah Child's prodigious cost in planting of walnut > trees about his seat and making fishponds many miles in circuit in Epping > Forest in a barren spot as commonly these overgrown and suddenly monied men > for the most part seat themselves. He from an ordinary merchant's apprentice > & management of the East India Company's common stock being arrived to an > estate ('tis said) of £200,000 and lately married his daughter to the eldest > son of the Duke of Beaufort, late Marquis of Worcester, with £30,000 (some > versions £50,000) portion at present, & various expectations. This merchant > most sordidly avaricious etc."The Diary of John Evelyn, ed.
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This thinking was rooted in his understanding and evolving profound ecclesiology that perceived the church as the family of God's people, where each and everyone has a critical role to play in promoting and shaping its multivalent features. Many Catholic schools, nursery, primary, and secondary schools were established or supported in their missions during his episcopate. Invested in the church's social teachings he ensured the establishment of primary and secondary healthcare institutions in Akpanya, Sheria, Abejukolo, Awo-Akpali; Inyano and Onyedega, Ibaji; and Egume in catering to the healthcare needs of the population. His support of the Diocesan Development Services initiative, which was initially headed by a very active Irish woman religious, member of the Holy Rosary Congregation of sisters, simple but committed, hardworking and insightful, Sr. Nora McNamara, sordidly brought recognition to the social justice efforts of the diocese at the global level.
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German provocateur Eckhart Schmidt here deftly ditches the flavor- of-the-month new wave teenybopper angst angle of Christiane F. in favor of a wonderfully roiling, sordidly screw-loose psychosexual tension that would make even Brian De Palma blush. [...] [...] Subtler than most SadicoNazista cinema, Der Fan parallels the roles of idol and dictator, civilian and fan, codependent lovers enmeshed in eroticized propaganda, commerce, and spectacle. [...] It's virtually impossible to explain why The Fan is a horror film without spoiling the entire third act, but let's just say this haunting, deeply creepy slice of German new wave creepiness has been steadily building up a cult following on home video with very good reason for over three decades. Fans of Audition in particular should get a kick out of this one, which is still a riveting experience and bound to catch any unprepared viewer completely off guard.
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