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Though often blasted by his critics, left-leaning French Author Jean-Paul Sartre, 56, was never really bombed—until last week. Then supporters of the French ultras, obviously nettled by Sartre's stumping for Algerian independence, planted a bomb outside his fourth-floor walkup apartment on Paris' Left Bank. Sartre was judiciously vacationing at the time, and no one was hurt.
The man who made the nuclear submarine has some explosive reactions to the Navy. Said Vice Admiral Hyman George Rickover, 61, to the House Appropriations Committee last May (according to testimony released last week) : "The Navy would rather have aircraft carriers than any other type of ship, including the Polaris submarine. Most of the officers in authority in the Navy today are aviators or influenced by aviators." As for interservice bickering, Rickover had a neat solution: simply shoot down the Air Force and give its long-legged bombers to the Navy, its missiles to the Army. "By returning to two services," said Rickover, "you will be subjected to the same compelling arguments for appropriations from two instead of three groups." Concluded Admiral Rickover gratuitously: "The military is not so esoteric that no one but a man in uniform can understand it. I think even a Congressman is capable of understanding it."
"As I see myself," Actor Sidney Poitier, 34, reflected a while ago, "I'm an average Joe Blow Negro. But as the cats say in my area, I'm out there wailing for us all." Now, adhering to the script of his Broadway and Hollywood hit, A Raisin in the Sun, Miami-born Poitier has moved into a previously all-white exurban area of New York's Westchester County. Ensconced with his wife and four daughters in a newly purchased twelve-room Tudor house in Mount Pleasant, Poitier was enjoying a warm reception from virtually all of his neighbors.
Once again tearing Husband Tony from his matchstick-model making at Kensington Palace, Britain's Princess Margaret, 30, showed a sample of her glittering new maternity wardrobe at a Fortune Theater performance of a satirical revue called Beyond the Fringe, which sniped at everything from the Establishment to Shakespeare. Predictably, the princess gave every outward indication of savoring the pungent aroma of roasted sacred cow.