It is a good time to be in Japan thinking these lugubrious thoughts, because I am not alone.
Then there was the lugubrious-looking newspaper astrologist Justin Toper, who is still offering "live psychic readings" on the telephone.
Martin Starr is a morosely unattractive Russian-lit major who complains about everything in the lugubrious drone of a campus coffee-shop wit.
Rehearsals were partly a matter of figuring out how to acknowledge the losses without turning the concert into a lugubrious memorial service.
There was a lugubrious tone pervading many of the national exposition spaces.
Retirement announcements can be mushy, lugubrious episodes an athlete's first public confrontation of his playing perishability but Rivera appeared relaxed and composed during the telecast.
Remove these incredibly detailed, strangling restrictions and levies, and Israel will have one of the most innovative, fastest-growing economies on the globe, instead of today's sputtering, lugubrious economy.
They envied him the possession of Husna, while at the same time being mildly relieved on returning to their lugubrious homes after a few hours in her company.
On the national scene, that lugubrious turning came in the 1980s, when the mighty Congress, which had dominated both national and state politics for decades, lost its preeminence.
He applauds the shows of the 1930s and 1940s when there were stars, jokes, dances and even dialogue, most of which he finds in short supply in today's lugubrious offerings.
But he also shoehorns in lugubrious scenes from Poland, a sitcom apartment inhabited by people wearing rabbit heads, and mysterious appearances and disappearances, and jumbles the strands together as a pretentious puzzle.
Dvorak's famous (to non-North Koreans at least) cor anglais solo echoed the lugubrious tones of some of North Korea's musical fare, but the cocky jauntiness of the Gershwin bordered on a forbidden realm.
Most off-putting and deadly was the show's "Jazzy" opener, choreographed by Mauro Bigonzetti to some lame and lugubrious jazz-tinged music by Federico Bigonzetti, the choreographer's son, and grimly performed to a recording by Jazzy Dogs.
WSJ: Kings of the Dance, Opus 3 | Royalty Made Common | By Robert Greskovic
Mr Cameron promised to force all his MPs to declare which family members they were employing, stealing a march on the lugubrious House of Commons machine which eventually decided to do the same for everyone.
Mr Varney played the perky Cockney survivor making life hell for the lugubrious Blakey, the bus-inspector, a Hitler lookalike who swore at the end of every episode to get even with him, and never did.
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