Judge, 1931-10-03 · page 13 of 36
Judge — October 3, 1931 — page 13: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# "God" by Stanley Jones - Judge Magazine This is a humorous short story with accompanying cartoons satirizing early 20th-century American enthusiasm for industrialization and technological progress. **The Setup:** A wealthy, well-meaning widow (Aunt Carrie) discovers a power plant and becomes fascinated by its operator—a lone man in a glass booth controlling massive machinery. She treats him with quasi-religious reverence, calling him "the god of the Machine," embodying what she sees as the divine wonder of modern industry ruling "your city universe." **The Satire:** The piece mocks the romantic idealization of industrial progress and the working man. Aunt Carrie's breathless wonder at industrial machinery—comparing it to a cathedral with "altar fires"—reflects a broader cultural fascination with modernity that glosses over the reality: the operator is described as "kinda dopey" and merely tends machines by levers and buttons. **The Cartoons** illustrate related themes of urban life—a detective compelling his son to confess, and a driver's license confrontation—all treating ordinary modern situations with exaggerated seriousness, reinforcing the story's mockery of overwrought contemporary attitudes.
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JUDGE ih “GOD” ' By Stantey Jones ‘ L] [98 about to leave the office when my Aunt Carrie { j skimmed in. Her eyes were bright and birdlike with fi that determined enthusiasm for Life which energetic and tee well-to-do widows so often acquire. I sighed, for I knew | from her look that she had discovered a New Significance | ity. She discovered them every time she came. j she said, “I've found it, Hubert.” ” I said politely. She is almost indecently rich, “And you've seen it, too,” she accused. “Often. And I'll wager you've never given it a thought. It takes out-of- town eyes to really—” | “Yes, yes,” I said, heading her off. “What is it this time?” She rang for the clevator. “You'd call it a power plant, 1 suppose. Down by the ferry. I peeked in and was q thrilled, Hubert. Thrilled “That's fine,” I said. “Pistons and all.” j “It’s like a cathedral to me,” said Aunt Carrie in a { hushed voice. “Great rumblings and white hot altar fires. | And, Hubert—don’t laugh at me—it even has a god.” hia “Really I said. She nodded, beckoned a ta ie | “One tiny man, high up ina glass cage. Controlling that pat |} whole gigantic monster by levers, and buttons, and tele- Aq |} phones! Think of it—the God of the i! i achine. Ruling your city universe | y and night.” ie = fe ‘Oh, I don't think it’s quite so bad - 1h {| ; Fr as all that,” I said weakly. But she } Me) kes continued as we jounced towards the bth river. “That man, Hubert, must have iW thought things out, if any man could. hill = ie would know where this Machine | tH Age is bound. And,” she looked at Ht we'll make him tell.” A GRIMY FELLOW stopped us at the £2. door of the huge brick pile. “No admittance,” he said surlily. “Can't you see that sign?’ Aunt Carrie GAO Li Cop—Have you got a driver’s license? | bobbed past me. “But,” she smiled, “we just want a few words with—er, the god of your pla “Huh 14 “Here,” I said hastily, “buy yourself some ai good cigars. } ent of Life. i She wants to interview what’'s-his-name, up there in that cag “Oh,” said the fellow, following my | aunt's rapt gaze. “You mean Shea? O. K. —his shift’s over in ten minutes, But he's kinda dopey.” While we waited, hoping to avoid perma- hf} i nent deafness from the noise, Aunt Carrie talked. “He'll know, Hubert. Perhaps the one man we could have happened on who \ ; will know. A great work—a task for a | i Doctor—Hm-m-m-m—you're sick! “That's right,” I (Continued on page 22) i 1 Oh j i comicbooks.com