Life, 1913-07-24 · page 29 of 40
Life — July 24, 1913 — page 29: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
The page contains two satirical elements: **The Cartoon:** A hippopotamus and rhinoceros discuss taxidermy. The hippo worries about existence in an afterlife; the rhino quips they'll certainly exist if taxidermists stuff them—a dark joke about being preserved as museum specimens rather than achieving spiritual immortality. **The Poem:** A collaborative parody of overwrought, pretentious poetry. The credited authors (W.H. James and Robertus Love, likely pseudonyms) alternated writing lines following "monthly magazine specifications," producing intentionally purple, nonsensical verse filled with obscure words ("cerulean cumuliferous," "Epimenides," "lassic threnodies"). The satire targets both magazine editors who impose rigid formulas on creative work and the literary pretension of the era—mocking flowery, meaning-empty verse that prioritizes ornate language over sense. It's satirizing bad poetry and editorial constraints simultaneously.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
~ wee ora ITV out Hippo: po YoU BELIEVE WE SHALL EXIST IN A FUTURE STATE? “WE CERTAINLY SHALL IF WE LET THE TAXIDERMIST GET US.” A Magazine Poem (Two persons were required for the outhorship of this poem, which was written upon monthly magazine specifications. Mr. James wrote the first line, Mr. Love the second, and so on alternately to the bitter end.) Spume-flaked but fumeless on the pulsing air The leaden lower of Night was glowered in gloom, Emblazoning embolic futile flare Against a gruesome ghost atop its tomb. Shaft-spired the Spirit City surged with sighs That beat like wind-whipped agonies of Eld, And noisome Night, now naked to the eyes, Shrank shuddering like a phantom awed and spelled. Then thickening through the lassic threnodies The mewling murk made murmurous acclaim, And sickening stirred where Epimenides. Belched dire contagion blent with blobbering shame. But one cerulean cumuliferous cloud Besmears the shrinking welkin with distraught And dismal doddering whisper spoken loud To awesome caverns of tempestuous Thought. W. H. James. Robertus Love. comicbooks.com