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Even Fries' humor sounds crisp, though its predictable source lies in the absurdity of the current scene and the pretentious twaddle of all establishments, whether founded upon outworn socialist unrealities or rampant democratic rhetoric. Arlecq puts in a stint as a government guide, conducting a party of Indonesian comrades from Goethe's shrine in Weimar to the Buchenwald concentration camp where, in spite of his efforts, the Indonesians beam and smile, mistaking it for a prehistory museum. He also works as an interpreter at an international conference. When the Cuban spokesman takes the floor, Arlecq switches off the sound and improvises: "The general theme was as simple as a school essay: Cuba and North American imperialism . . . When Arlecq switched on the sound again they were both, the speaker and he, still uttering the same things, their lines of thought converging in the struggle for world peace. The delegates responded with a standing ovation."
As message, this is just medium. But seeing all adult confabulation as a sort of predictable Punch-and-Judy show is now the universal indulgence of the unindulgent young.