Judge, 1921-06-11 · page 11 of 36
Judge — June 11, 1921 — page 11: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# "The Buttinskis" Political Satire Explanation This poem by Walt Mason, illustrated by Ralph Barton, satirizes American missionary and reform movements—particularly early 20th-century interventionism disguised as benevolence. **The satire's target:** Religious reformers and do-gooders who impose their values on other cultures under the guise of "civilization." The "heathen" on his tropical island lives contentedly without toil, voting, or shaving—until well-meaning Americans arrive with hymnbooks and "Helpful Facts." **The ironic critique:** The poem reveals that these interventions actually *harm* indigenous peoples by introducing disease, labor exploitation (sweatshop clothing), and moral anxiety. The "helpful" reformers themselves are hypocritical busybodies ("Buttinskis") who meddle in others' affairs while ignoring their own moral failings (drinking gasoline, judging neighbors). **Historical context:** This likely critiques American missionary colonialism and Progressive Era paternalism toward "backward" peoples—the same impulses driving U.S. imperialism. Mason's message: meddling destroys "human peace" more effectively than the supposed sins being corrected.
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e in. “AND SO, WITH HYMNBOOKS IN OUR HANDS, WE RUSTLED THROUGH THE HEATHEN LANDS!” The Buttinskis An Epic Dedicated to the Whole Tribe of HAVE no doubt we were designed when placed upon this sphere, to keep the course each had in mind, and none should interfere. My forbears roosted in the trees in pre- historic times, and there cooked up the jest and wheeze which have inspired my rhymes; for generations thus they perched in stately elms and oaks, and had much pleasure when they searched their brains for new-laid jokes. But there were other ancient men who did not roost in trees; they had their dwelling in the fen, with mud up to their For generations thus they dwelled, cd, and scratched their chigger bites and yelled, and wished knegs while ages came and sp that they were dead. And in that time remote and dim, at last they looked aloft, saw my ancestors on a limb, and said, “Their sna And so they gathered up some bricks and rocks and things like these, and threw By Warr Mason Tilustration by Rateu Barton them at the merry hicks who roosted in the trees. The swamp men could not bear to see, while they splashed in the mire, my forbears camping in a tree, each twanging on his lyre. They covered all the ancient map with bricks and rocks and spears, and thus began a foolish scrap that’s raged a million years. In the beginning, as 1t was, today it’s when we just the same; we feel indigna pause to view the neighbor's game. The happy heathen used to dwell upon his tropic isle, and on his neck he wore He had no use bell and on his face a smile for honest toil, he viewed it as a crime; he lived on cocoanuts and oil, and had a bully He didn’t vote, he didn't shave, he time. didn’t cut his hair; and from the cradle to the grave he never knew a care. We viewed him on his happy: isle and said, ‘*This will not do! We'll have to can his cheerful smile, and make him sad and blue 1 Reformers And so with hymnbooks in our hands, our pockets fullof tracts, we rustled through the heathen lands, and dished up Helpful Facts. s. h wives equipped with gowns, and dressed We made the chief wear cotton p: his daughters and his aunts in sweatshop handmedowns. We took diseases in our train that heathen never knew, and they were doubled up with pain, and died of grip and flu And so our flag is never furled, our labors round the never cease, we meddle, meddle world, destroying human peace I see my neighbor sipping soup, a drink that 1 martial whoop on my rear limbs [rise My to brace my despise; and with a wild and seems looks favored drink is gasoline, it frame, and anyone base and mean who does not drink the same Along our weary way we chase, denounc ing someone's sin; the world would be a happy place but for this butting in!