Word: belches
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...Twelfth Night is seldom so obliging. Too often in the theater the Illyrian glamour, the lovely songs, the immortal lines, the great bard himself, dissolve and leave but the plot behind. Now girl-in-boy's clothing palls, now which-twin-is-which proves wearying, now Sir Toby Belch and Sir Andrew Aguecheek help explain why "carouse" can be one of the most shuddersome euphemisms in the reviewer's lingo...
...weirdly unnatural order. The resident composers at the Cologne studio tend to abandon natural sound in favor of sounds artificially manufactured on tape. Represented at the demonstration were Hungarian Composer Gyorgy Ligeti, 34, whose Articulation consisted of a series of blips and plops dramatically relieved by an occasional electronic belch, and Composer Gottfried Michael Koenig, 32, whose Essay punctuated its eerie, sustained sonorities with harplike electronic roulades. But the high point of the afternoon was a 12½-minute work by 30-year-old Karlheinz Stockhausen, a pioneer in electronic music and star of Cologne's experimental studio. Title...
...Hall of Fame: Shakespeare's Twelfth Night is the kind of play that gives classics a bad name. The 350-year-old romantic comedy acts its age. Its plot conventions are no less archaic than its Elizabethan jargon, e.g., tillyvally, bawcock, clodpole. Such venerable comics as Sir Toby Belch and Sir Andrew Aguecheek are no subtler or funnier than the names they bear. However fetchingly its poetry may glisten through the monkeyshines, it is a comedy of errors usually compounded in production. To handle this thorny flower at all on sponsored TV takes courage beyond the call of drama...
...that faintly echo the bite of bigger wits now departed from the TV scene. There is Charles Vichysoisse, the leering Continental Crooner, perpetually at odds with his pianist, his white gloves and an undisciplined audience at Club Chichi. With rapid-fire changes, Soupy may become Wyatt Burp, the craven, belch-prone sheriff, or Calypso King Harry Bella, a wild-eyed, mop-domed South American who rolls drunks for a living...
...into a coke furnace. Groaning from violent stomach cramps and unable to sleep, Dumas had no option but to go to work "with both hands, one hand writing as fast as it could, while the other was massaging his belly and coaxing from deep within him one lugubrious belch after another." His doctor put him on a diet (cold beef, olive oil, milk, cucumber salad, thrice daily, with hot chocolate between meals), but Dumas' eructations were so little lessened that he returned to his favorite, bouillabaisse. Dumas cooked this dish himself and liked to down six helpings...