Judge, 1930-12-13 · page 10 of 36
Judge — December 13, 1930 — page 10: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# Analysis of Judge Magazine Page This page contains multiple satirical pieces typical of 1920s-30s Judge magazine: **"The Expedition"** (main story): A narrative mocking modernist art appreciation. Jules, an affected guide, rhapsodizes over mundane landscapes ("Sunrise on Lake Ockocku-mucmiac") while the narrator and Bill see only "a crazy blotch of color." Bill's outburst—demanding "good nudes" instead of "nutty, modernistic stuff"—satirizes the pretentiousness of modern art enthusiasts versus common-sense viewpoints. **"Busy"** (top right): A joke about unemployment during what appears to be Depression-era economic crisis. The boss is unavailable because he's "in an unemployment conference"—darkly ironic given the visitor seeks a job. **"A Great Moment"** (bottom): Shows a man mistaken for Al Capone, the famous gangster. The humor derives from mistaken identity and the era's gangster obsession. The cartoons collectively mock modernism, unemployment anxiety, and 1920s-30s celebrity culture.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
JUDGE shivered. Bill moaned. He appeared on the verge of delirium. Jules paused. Stared around. There was a peculiar gleam in his eyes. “Look !" he whispered. “Over there! See it? Sunrise on Lake Ockocku- mucmiac! Wonderful! Beautiful!” T looked, Bill looked. All we saw bloteh of color. $ too much. Bill leaped at ide, grabbed him by the collar. sten, Jules,” he said. “We're fed up on this nutty; modernistic stuff! Migosh, ain't there good nudes in this cockeyed art gallery?” —Cuer Jounsos Busy “T want to see the boss.” “What do you want to see him about?” “About a job.” “I'm sorry but you can’t sce him; he's in an unemployment conference.” And for the theme song of Earl Carroll's next show we suggest * body Knows de Trouble Obscene !” “Send up some cracked ice to Mrs. Blitz at the Ritz Towers—her daugh- ter is throwing a début party!” The Expedition W: plodded along in the wake of Jules, our faithful guide. “T can't stand much more of this,” Bill muttered. “It’s driving me cuckoo.” The deadly scenery was beginning to pall on me, too. I glanced at Jules. His face was a mask of gr ness. If he was weary to the verge of collapse, it did not show. He kept plodding on, hands clasped behind his back. Occasionally he paused and, with feigned interest, called our attention to somethi A snowstorm in the mountains. A forest of birch trees. A trapper’s cabin half buried in drifts. Once I thought he was lost. He glanced around uncertainly, drew a little book from his pocket, con- sulted it for a moment, then resumed the trail. On and on. Bill and I now looked neither to right nor left. The going was too heavy. Then grotesque fig- ures began to take form. Some leered A Great Moment in THe Lire op a Cricacoan down at us, Some seemed asleep. I He is mistaken for Al Capone. comicbooks.com