Word: grouchos
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Talking pictures were barely a year old when anarchy broke loose at the movies. At the start of The Cocoanuts, Groucho Marx stalked down the steps in his Neanderthal slouch and spat out a flood of puns and insults. It was a new cinema art: rude descending a staircase...
...platitude for every plot twist. "No matter how far a jackass travels," he muses, "it won't come back a horse." Batou encounters lots of fantastic creatures (like the crustaceous Crab Man), elegant vistas (pagoda skyscrapers) and bizarre machines (a plane that resembles both a dragon and Groucho Marx, with a cigar as his nose). It's smart, spectacular, luscious picturizing...
...sure as hell never signed up for it. In fact, I’m a little scared by the whole idea. What kind of a general public purports to speak for everyone and then goes around contradicting itself? This reminds me a bit of what Groucho Marx said—“I don’t care to belong to a club that accepts people like me as members.” But according to pollsters, I am a member. If the whole idea didn’t make me a little uneasy, I might just...
...blind tasting of white wines at London's Groucho Club late last year, seven out of the top 10 places were taken not by the usual suspects from France, California or South Africa but by Austrian Chardonnays and Gr?ner Veltliners?the crisp yet full-bodied wine grown mostly in the east of the country. In the U.S., people began talking the wines around 1999, when chef David Bouley opened Danube, a New York City restaurant inspired by Viennese cookery with a wine list long on Veltliners. Says Bruce Sanderson, senior editor of Wine Spectator: "Chefs and sommeliers in top restaurants...
First, a confession: despite what I may have told you in September 2001, I am not now, and never have been, Freedonian. Freedonia, as you may recall, is the fictional country Groucho Marx rules in Duck Soup; for a few weeks at the beginning of freshman year, I claimed it, with a straight face, as my homeland. Because Harvard first-years are loath to admit their ignorance, my declaration of citizenship went mostly unchallenged. Sometimes my fellow first-years, brows furrowed, would ask where Freedonia was, again, and—because these conversations generally took place over dinner in Annenberg?...