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Saturday, November 02, 2002 So I rented an old Marx Brothers film, "Horsefeathers." Hadn't seen it since college and wanted a fix of cinematic anarchy. Yee-ha! The beginning of the film goes as follows: The outgoing President of Huxley College addresses an auditorium filled with students. The Trustees of the College sit behind him, two rows of middle-aged academic men with black robes and four-corner caps.: Outgoing President: ...and so in retiring as president of this college, it is indeed a painful task to bid you all good-bye. And now, with the utmost pleasure, may I present to you the man who is to guide the destiny of this great institution, Professor Quincy Adams Wagstaff (Applause. Wagstaff is seated at the side of the stage -- in shirtsleeves, his suspenders down --shaving, a lit cigar hanging from his mouth. He grabs his robe, moves quickly to the podium.) O.P.: Professor, it is indeed an honor to welcome you to Huxley College. Wagstaff: Never mind that – hold this coat. (Gives robe to O.P., who holds it while Wagstaff gets it on.) O.P.: By the way, Professor, there is no smoking. Wagstaff: That's what you say. O.P.: (Trying again.) It would please the faculty if you would throw your cigar away. Wagstaff: The faculty members might just as well keep their seats – there'll be no diving for this cigar. (Wagstaff picks up the gavel, hammers for order.) Members of the faculty, faculty members, students of Huxley and Huxley students – I guess that covers everything. Well, I thought my razor was dull until I heard his speech. And that reminds me of a story that's so dirty I'm ashamed to think of it myself. As I look out over your eager faces, I can readily understand why this college is flat on its back. The last college I presided over, things were slightly different: I was flat on my back. Things kept going from bad to worse but we all put our shoulders to the wheel and it wasn't long before I was flat on my back again. Any questions? Any answers? (Breaks into song:) Any rags, any bones, any bottles today? Any rags.... (Stops singing.) No doubt you would like to know why I'm here. I came into this college to get my son out of it. I remember the day he left to come here, a mere boy and a beardless youth. I kissed them both good-bye. By the way, where is my son? (Looks out over audience, addressed a female student in the first row:) Young lady, would you mind getting up so I can see the son rise? (She stands up, we see she's been sitting on the lap of Wagstaff's son (Zeppo Marx).) So, doing your homework at school, eh? Zeppo: Hello, old timer! O.P.: My dear professor, I'm sure the students would appreciate a brief outline of your plans for the future. Wagstaff: What? O.P. I said, the students would appreciate a brief outline of your plans for the future. Wagstaff: You just said that. That's the trouble around here: talk, talk, talk. (Adopting a melodramatic pose:) Oh, sometimes I think I must go mad. Where will it all end? What is it getting you? (Addresses O.P. more aggressively:) Why don't you go home to your wife? I'll tell you what, I'll go home to your wife and outside of the improvement she'll never know the difference. Pull over to the side of the road there and let me see your marriage license. O.P. Professor Wagstaff, now that you have stepped into my shoes... Wagstaff: Oh, is that what I stepped in -- I wondered what it was. If these are your shoes, the least you can do is have them cleaned. O.P. (Forging ahead:) ...the trustees have a few suggestions they would like to submit to you. Wagstaff: I think you know what the trustees can do with their suggestions. (Begins song: "I'm Against It.") rws 2:34 PM [+]
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