Judge, 1920-10-16 · page 13 of 32
Judge — October 16, 1920 — page 13: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# "Changed Outlook" Analysis This is a humorous two-part story by Walt Mason with illustrations by Ralph Barton, not primarily political satire. **The Narrative:** A man falls into despair about life's hardships—working to pay rent, struggling in poverty. He contemplates suicide. His wife calls him to dinner, and a good meal completely transforms his mood and outlook. **The Secondary Point:** The story then pivots to mock a statesman who, despite his important position, is miserable because he eats poorly (at a hotel called "Cheese," getting underdone steak and rancid grease). This pessimistic politician tells reporters the country is ruined. The implication: if he ate well-prepared food, he'd be optimistic. **The Satire:** The joke targets both the depression-era notion that poverty breeds despair, and the idea that politicians' gloomy pronouncements about national decline stem not from actual conditions but from personal discomfort—specifically, bad digestion. It's social commentary wrapped in domestic humor: our mood and perspective depend more on comfort than circumstances.
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Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
patry Gere OUI mood DUIHOCOD JMOH \ —_—— “He SWALLOWS SOME SUCH THINGS 43 THESE AT AN OTEL wnose NAME 1s CuEEsE” Changed By Wau Tllustration by WO hours ago the world looked bleak, and briny heck. I sat and brooded by tears ran down my my door, like some sad bear whose head “What is the use.” my soul inquired, ing on, when one is tired? Long since I | that life's a fake, a crime, intrusion and mistake. It is the same old treadmill grind; one works and suffers till e's blind, and all he earns must go to pay the landlord or some greedy jay. 1 look ahead, through tears of grief, and sce no solace or re- | lief; tomorrow I'll be struggling on to get my trousers out of pawn; next day [I'll sweat and toil some more, to buy sé bacon at the store; and so ‘twill be for years to come, unless I jump this world so bum, and lay me down in peace to sleep. k where doodle-bats their vigits keep.” Then called my wite, in accents sweet: “Come from your sore. of ha i: arned trance—it’s time to eat!” And what a glad repast was there, when I pulled up my high- backed chai! It was a spread to please a prince, and I've been eating ever since, and now, again, beside my door I sit and view the landscape o'er. But now you will not find a trace of scalding tears upon my fa instead there is a balmy smile that coil around for half a mile. Oh, this old world looks good to me, and sunshine everywhere And I believe that victuals poor cause half the grouch: I see. Outlook t Mason Ra.en Barton men endure, and fill the sunny air with wails, and send a lot guys to ja he statesman eats a steak that’s f who is denied the knowledge that a steak is spoiler sit should be broiled. Potatoes cooked in rancid gr from his noble soul all peace; and coffee of a muddy tinge hotter than the seventh hinge. He swallows some such things as these at an hotel whose name is Cheese, and then he sits upon the porch and lights a Flor da Cabbage torch. Reporters of the Daily News come up and ask him for views. The great man sighs and says, sa No signs soling do I sce. The country’s on the blink, my son; its name is Mud, its course is run. Th ngs for which our fathers fought are full of holes, to pieces Our bulwarks all are on the blink; these times have driven men to drink.” Now, had that statesman but been filled with grub prepared by cookster skilled; had not his steak been underdone, had not rank butter greased his bun, how different would be his tone! A chortle would supplant the groan. “My lads,”” I seem to hear him up today. The bogies of old da diums look grand; our bulwarks never were so slick the tinhorn hick who pulls a long and doleful_ face and grumbles in the marketplac ied by some punk cook if it is fried— ne, . “our country’s rightside re canned, and our palla- and I det 13 Comicbooks.cO j