CREEMEDIA
The Ritual of the Muscular Dystrophy Telethon: Drenched in That Greasy Kid Stuff, Jerry Lewis, striding in long circles at a gazelle's pace, mocks the sanctimony of the M.D. ceremony by repeatedly stumbling over his own feet. Abruptly he stops clowning, lights a filter-tipped Kool, blows smoke at the camera, and stares into his TV audience, Daddy-O Guilt already breathing hot down their clammy necks.
Descriptions Of A Schizoid Spazz
CREEMEDIA
by Robot A. Hull
The Ritual of the Muscular Dystrophy Telethon: Drenched in That Greasy Kid Stuff, Jerry Lewis, striding in long circles at a gazelle's pace, mocks the sanctimony of the M.D. ceremony by repeatedly stumbling over his own feet. Abruptly he stops clowning, lights a filter-tipped Kool, blows smoke at the camera, and stares into his TV audience, Daddy-O Guilt already breathing hot down their clammy necks. Speaking an interminable harangue, Lewis clumsily gropes toward the abstracts of morality, feeling himself flounder. "All everybody really wants once in a while is a hug. Is that so much?" He picks up a discarded 7-Up bottle and begins sucking on it—"I want my Na-Na!" It's as if he goes through his comic moves reflexijVely, possessed by the complicated twitch of a demented disease. In fact, so similar are Lewis's antics to the movements of gimps, that the sick rumors still hover in the background—that he has sired an illegitimate offspring inflicted with M.D., or that he is paying penance for his career of cruelly ridiculing the afflicted.