Life, 1912-09-12 · page 33 of 52
Life — September 12, 1912 — page 33: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page contains three distinct pieces of satirical commentary from Life magazine (dated 1773, likely 1913 based on content). **"Earthrise on the Moon"** (illustration): Shows a figure planting a flag on the moon's surface with a dog. This appears to be early science-fiction satire, playfully imagining lunar colonization—a fantastical concept for the era. **"Texas"** article: A nostalgic, hyperbolic lament for the "old Texas" of frontier lawlessness (gunmen, whiskey, duels) versus modern, civilized Texas with railroads, prohibition, oil industry, and churches. The satire mocks both romantic frontier mythology and contemporary progressivism. **"Saved!" and "Men with little learning..."**: These are brief satirical jabs. The first references Mrs. Woodrow Wilson allegedly smoking cigarettes—implying moral scandal could damage her husband's presidential fitness. The second mocks hasty logical conclusions, likely a general social commentary. The overall tone is characteristic of early 20th-century American satirical journalism: skeptical of both past romanticism and present-day reform movements.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
1773 Texas I N the grand old days antedating the eighties, when the Panhandle, the Pecos and El Paso were as vague and mysterious as Prester John; when buf- falo bounded on the border and long- horns loped on the ranges; when gun- men and Greasers, cowboys and coyotes, thirst and trouble were the dominant features of the landscape; when faro was a frivol and the fusil- lade a fad; when pistols produced politeness and bowies abridged boor- ishness; when San Antone was the center of the’ universe and the Rio Grande the Ultima Thule, the Lone Star State was hot and heady, hospita- ble and Homeric, horsy and heroic, hold and belligerent, artless and alco- holic; Texas was as wide-open as her hearts and her acres, and her name in the timid East was a synonym for hades and homicide. In those good old days the boiled EARTHRISE ON THE MOON shirt, the silk hat, the dinner coat and other garments of an effete and juice- less civilization were taboo; Texas was in the saddle; society was booted and spurred; the fence was an offense; cattle was king, and snakes, chapparal, fleas, firearms, alkali and alcohol were familiar household words. Then came the railroads and regene- ration, fences and finance, irrigation and agitation, populism and prohibi- tion, immigration and conservation; the abandonment of whiskers and whiskey, freedom and ferocity, the horse and heroics; the passage of the bad-man, the eclipse of the man on horseback; the transfer of the poig- nant, peppery, passionate pugnacity of Texas from man to nature; the trans- formation of homicidal energy into in- dustrial activity; the creation of col- leges, class poets and football team: the discovery of oil and stock-water- ing, the introduction of the auto, the incoming of muckraking, trust-busting and insurgency; and primeval, cle- mental Texas was dead. To-day Texas is more peaceful, pious and protected than Brooklyn; the soda-fountain bubbles on her corners; the fame of the quiet, peace and health of her winter resorts glows in the magazines; the pugilist and the sport look upon Texas with an evil eye, and her gentle church vestries shudder at the lawlessness of New York and the depravity of Boston. Joseph Smith. Saved ! HE country is safe. It is officially denied that Mrs. Woodrow Wilson smokes cigarettes. If she did smoke cigarettes, her has- band would, of course, be unfit to be clected President of the United States. EN with little learning can jump the farthest—to conclusions. comicbooks.com