Word: comic
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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...meantime, NBC announced publicly that it "looks forward to welcoming Johnny Carson back to work at the end of the AFTRA strike," but was privately negotiating with Comic Bob Newhart as a desperation replacement. All the while, Carson was describing himself as "a free agent," or, as he put it in a beachside, bathing-suit interview with CBS, "an unemployed prince...
...many respects, Edmund "Pat" Brown fits the comic strip caricature of a politician. Heavy-set and florid, he talks in superlatives and looks at ease on a campaign platform. Genial most of the time, he blusters and pounds his fist if someone maligns Lyndon Johnson or another Democrat. He knows California as few other people do: probably no one else could be so effusive about the redwoods or the Los Angeles freeway system; probably no one else can name the tiny settlements that dot Highway 395 as it climbs from Barstow to Bishop...
Despite such comic-opera feats, the cause that the Basque troublemakers are trying to promote-an independent Basque nation-is rapidly dying in Spain. The Basques, once thought of as an exotic race of faithful shepherds living in the remote fastnesses of the Pyrenees, bearing such unpronounceable names as Zugazagoitia and speaking a totally incomprehensible tongue, no longer conform to their old image. From Urzaingui to Munguia, they have taken up Spanish in place of their own archaic language-an agglutinated monstrosity that, according to Basque legend, even the Devil could not learn: in seven years of trying, he mastered...
...light side of the pun-prone, fun-filled roisterer. Falstaff describes himself as "not only witty in myself, but the cause that wit is in other men." Not, apparently, in Welles. What ultimately makes this Falstaff ring false is a lack of comedy in the Bard's most comic creation...
Three boys coming from the Garden Street graveyard. Young men of slight stature, who might, given sufficient provocation, carry a fork from the school cafeteria and extort dimes in the bathroom. A girl glides by and three heads snap with the comic suddenness of recalcitrant window shades. "Fine bod," they say behind their hands and pass on to higher conquest. They stop to dispute, and not knowing the civilized use of velleities, fall to pushing. "Hic Rhodus, hic salta," cries one. They just shove him again, which is clearly what he deserves...