Word: quipping
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Certain shows incite conditioned-reflex laughter. A quip rings a bell on stage, or a performer twitches a facial muscle, and the audience laughs, in much the same way that Pavlov's dogs salivated. The playgoer has been given nothing in the way of genuine comic nourishment. He has merely been cajoled into an empty-bellied laugh...
TINY for an Irish politician, his smile still happy as a choirboy's, John V. Kenny was shown on national TV as he left federal court. The television reporter did not laugh at the sad little quip Kenny, now 77, made when he was asked how he felt about being indicted. "You live rich and you die poor," said J.V.-and it all came back. In Jersey City when I was a girl, it was good manners to have a small joke at the tip of your tongue at even the most serious times, especially at wakes. No priest...
Muhammad Ali was flabbergasted. Oscar Bonavena, the hulking, beetle-browed Argentine with only a halting command of English, was beating the Louisville Lip to the surly quip. Calling Ali a "black kangaroo" and a "maricon" (faggot), Bonavena boasted that he would knock out the deposed champion in Round 11. "Imagine that!" exclaimed Ali. "Him predictin' on me!" At their prefight physical, Oscar tweaked Ali's cheek. Ali started to lunge at Oscar. "Why you so nerbous?" said the Argentine. "You afraid Oscar and his beeg muscles?" Ali: "You're not good enough to touch me." Oscar...
...Peking last week, the deposed Prince formally set up his own Cambodian government in exile, complete with a twelve-member Cabinet and a platform ineluding items like abolition of polygamy. His self-styled New Royal Government of National Union won instant recognition from several Communist countries, prompting Sihanouk to quip that, as a French-educated aristocrat and heir to a 2,000-year-old monarchy, he could not be a Red but only a "pink Prince." Cambodia's predominantly rural people may not be all that amused. They are not so much anti-Communist as anti-Vietnamese, and Sihanouk...
...lovers' lives gave them one afternoon where questions of "reality" had no place. The experiences that they had collected and vainly tried to understand fell together by themselves when they were together. The boy had been wallowing in the wastelands of campus radicalism, agreeing with a Black Panther's quip that "white radicalism is a cross between jive and bullshit," Smothered by his inactivity, alienated from the suboulture of the alienated, he joyrides into criminality and personal liberation. During his hours in the desert, he found for the first time that he could fill himself by giving...