Judge, 1931-09-19 · page 7 of 36
Judge — September 19, 1931 — page 7: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# "The Traffic Cop" and "We'll Concede It" **"The Traffic Cop"** satirizes the absolute authority of traffic police, who control vehicle flow with imperious hand gestures. The poem mocks their petty autocracy—they command cars in all directions yet "cannot look North, South, West and East" simultaneously. The joke suggests their power is absurdly limited despite their imperious demeanor. The cartoon caption jokes about "dueling" traffic violations, playing on their authority to issue citations. **"We'll Concede It"** comments on China's seemingly endless warfare and suggests wrapping fighters in cellophane like boxing matches to prevent casualties. The accompanying cartoon shows a man viewing nude paintings, possibly satirizing art appreciation or moral standards. Both pieces employ absurdist humor typical of Judge's satirical style, mocking contemporary institutions and social conventions.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
JUDGE “What's that?” “It’s a sword—TI suppose we males will have to go in for duelling again if you ladies are going to be romantic. We'll Concede It Cums seems to be tryi for the non-stop war record. And since it’s the custom to wrap everything un- touched by human hands in cellophane, it might also be a good idea to wrap our heavyweight fighters that way. After all, maybe it would he better to give the unem- ployed a dole rather than give them jobs over-produc- ing something that can’t be sold. One thing apartment dwellers will not have to worry about this winter is a heat surplus. And Dora thinks that Fu Manchu is a brother to Adolphe. The Army is experiment- ing with a method of spray- ing poison gas so as to ex- terminate whole regiments. We always knew that event- y somebody would get a ¢ idea from the Flit gun. The Traffic Cop se now the traffic cop Who causes things to go and stop, And knows a thing or two or three About the art of blasphemy. He is the prophet of a God (A bean within a metal pod), Whose piercing voice can dam the flow Of motorists when on th And speed them on again at will By screaming twice, acute and shrill. The traffic cop is lord of all The vehicles, immense and small; a. 0, ar of roadster, truck, sedan, ric coach and caravan; Of cycle, phacton and dray ; Of super-twelve and one-hoss shay. And yet this man’s autocracy Is envied not one whit by me, For traffic cops (at once, at least), Cannot look North, South, West Fast, And when they’re giving South a glance An eastbound car can graze their pants. —Atnert G. Minter “Henry!!” comicbooks.com