The magician of that little Jewish theater in New York announced that using only his lips, his teeth and his tongue he would thread a needle. To prove that there was no device in his mouth to help him pass the thread through the eye of the needle, he made a child from the audience come up on stage. He showed her his mouth, open, and then asked, “What do you see in my mouth?” The answer should have been: “Nothing”, but the boy answered: “Pyorrhea”. The laughter of the people embarrassed the magician, who among all those attending the function had the misfortune to choose who over the years would be one of the greatest comedians of cinema and television in the United States: Groucho Marx. His humor was always caustic, irreverent, anarchic. “I never forget a face,” he told someone, “but with you I’ll make an exception.”
Sometimes his gags or jokes bordered on surrealism. In one of his films he played the role of a doctor. Watch in hand took a patient’s pulse and then ruled: “Either this man is dead or my watch is stopped.” To the president of a social club he said: “Accept my resignation. I don’t want to belong to a club that admits people like me.” The maid of his house announced to him: “There is a man with a big black mustache at the door.” He ordered Groucho: “Tell him I already have one.”
Enemy of the prejudices of race, religion or nationality ironized about them. When one of her daughters was banned from entering a public swimming pool because she was Jewish, he demanded: “Let her at least get in the water up to her waist. Her mother is a Christian.” In an interview the reporter asked him if he had already seen the hit movie, “Samson and Delilah,” starring Victor Mature, a burly actor with prominent chest muscles. Groucho replied: “I’m not interested in seeing a movie where the actor has a bigger bust than the actress.” He hilariously courted a selfless and patient Margaret Dumont in his movies. There is a scene from “A Night in Casablanca” in which he asks the hotel florist: “Send a bouquet of roses to room 424 and put: ‘I love you, Emily’ on the back of the check” .
And in another: “Remember that we are fighting for the honor of this woman, which she has never done.” He even made fun of himself: “I eat just like a buzzard. Unfortunately the resemblance doesn’t end there.” Doris Day was an aseptic singer and actress, representative of the virtues that white, Anglo-Saxon and Protestant American women should have. Groucho commented, “I’ve been in the show for so many years that I’ve known Doris Day since before she was a virgin.” Sometimes her phrases scandalized: “Behind every great man there is a great woman.
And behind her is the wife”. It is said that he himself had written the epitaph that should have been on his grave: “Forgive me for not getting up”. However, he was capable of saying things of wisdom: “Every man is of the age of the woman who caresses”. Once a preacher told him: “I congratulate you, Mr. Marx, for all the joy you have given to the world.” He replied: “I have done it to counteract a little all the sadness that you have put I pay tribute today to Good Marx, Groucho, who continues to live in his films and in our memory. I do so to offset a little the absurd, laughable tributes that are being paid here to Bad Marx, Karl, whose ideas , already mummified like its corpse, the 4T intends to revive. We have a government based on obsolete, anachronistic dogmas, and that have led to the ruin of the countries that have been foolish enough to apply them. If it is about paying homage to mummies, pay homage to those of Guanajuato END.
LOOKOUT
By Armando SOURCES AGUIRRE.
They tell me I have a good memory.
In any case, I only have one good one in exchange for many bad ones that visit me when I least expect them.
Take this one as an example. The store in my neighborhood as a child was called “La Libertad”, because its owner was a Jacobin, a free thinker. He lived with his sister in the back room. The neighbors mentioned that there was a relationship between them that could not be mentioned. For this reason, and because of the suspicious name of the store, none of them bought in “La Libertad”. They all walked two more blocks to buy from Doña Lita, who was a Franciscan tertiary and went every night to the Holy Hour.
One morning “La Libertad” does not open. Closed it remains all day, and the next, and one more. Someone calls the police. The gendarmes shove the door down and find the man in the shop and his sister dead. Later it is known that the two took rat poison.
My childhood neighborhood was very quiet. I don’t know then why his ghosts come to disturb me.
See you tomorrow!…
MANGANITES
By AFA.
“. A European bishop married.”.
his conscience bothered him
because of his faults, I knew,
and he prescribed himself
that harsh penance.
#politics #worse