Michael Beeson's Research

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~ ~ ~ “Ferdinand Sponer,” the young man answered apologetically. However, since no damage had been done, the policeman waved them on. “Be more careful in future,” he said, and walked back to his post, while the other driver, swearing profusely, got back in his car. Sponer, however, turned round to his glamorous passenger, “I’m awfully sorry!” “I told her that I was coming,” he said. “I even told her that she could come along but she said that if I went that I shouldn’t come back.” Larney braced in anticipation of a blow.‘He looked like you.’ On my little stroll to the house, I take a deep breath and rest my eyes on the gigantic angelica plants on the ridge by the stream, watching how they struggle against the wind before yielding to it. The farm’s generator is in a crooked, rickety shed with a collapsed roof, a refuge for birds and mice. Analie giggled, then drew another spark from Conawago’s fingers with the glass rod sent by Deborah Franklin in Philadelphia and skipped away, raising a deep laugh from their genteel host on the other side of the chessboard. “Why are you here then?” she finally asked. Someone banged on the door. And as soon as I asked, I knew the answer was no. Although I’d lied about my boss at theTribune sending me to the rally, I did bring a notepad, and more or less pretended to be a reporter. I asked some of the protesters why, exactly, they were out today. Every response was a variation on some vague patriot-babble:“Because I’m an American, and that’s what we Americans do,” or, “I just want to be out here to show support.” When I followed up by asking what it was, specifically, they were supporting, my interviewees responded with some version of, “I’m supporting freedom and democracy,” and the question returned to why that support was necessary today, and I found myself in an endless feedback loop of nationalistic vapidity. I kept checking the homemade signs, hoping to find a clear cause, but the signs were just as nebulous as the people who’d made them. “No!” “How can one break from a woman like that?” a friend says to Tadanobu. “I like games!” the girl exclaimed. “No, he’s not, but even if he were, I couldn’t care less! I forbid you to compromise me! You better keep your mouth shut!” “No,” he said, “I don’t.” “I…” Sponer said..