Sad news for lovers of wordplay
British comedian Ronnie Barker, half of the team The Two Ronnies, is dead at age 76. He had a long, brilliant career in comedy, specializing in almost purely verbal humor. For example, here’s a bit of his "Pismronunication" monologue:
Good evening. I am the president of the Loyal Society for the Relief of Suffers from Pismronunciation, for the relief of people who can’t say their worms correctly, or who use the wrong worms entirely, so that other people cannot underhand a bird they are spraying. It’s just that you open your mouse, and the worms come turbling out in wuck a say that you dick not what you’re thugging to be, and it’s very distressing.
I’m always looing it, and it makes one feel umbumftorcacle, especially when one is going about one’s diddly tasks. Slopping at the Sloopermarket, for instance. Only last wonk, I approached the chuckout point, and I shooed the ghoul behind the crash desk the contents of my trilly, and she said ‘All right, granddad, shout ‘em out.’ Well, of course, that’s fine for the ordinary man in the stoat who has no dribble with his wolds. For someone like myself, it’s worse than a kick in the jackstrop.
I remember watching The Two Ronnies on PBS when I was growing up, and being enchanted by the pair’s way with words. During their regular "newscast," Barker announced that a prison van had collided with a cement truck, and that motorists were asked to be on the lookout for 10 hardened criminals. The dictionary was his toybox.
More of Barker’s genius can be found here.
Cross-posted at Dispatches from Outland.
Roy Jacobsen
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