Life, 1914-03-19 · page 28 of 44
Life — March 19, 1914 — page 28: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
**"To My Futurist Love" (Poem by Berton Braley):** This satire mocks the Futurist art movement's radical approach to women's appearance. The poem's speaker struggles to praise his lover in traditional poetic language when she adopts the Futurist fashion of wearing multicolored hair (blue, purple, orange, pink) and face paint in jarring hues. The joke is that modern artistic innovation has made conventional romantic expression impossible—he can only describe her with one color of ink, yet she presents a "kaleidoscope" of colors. The accompanying illustration shows women with exaggerated, theatrical styling typical of Futurist aesthetic experiments. The satire gently ridicules both Futurism's extreme anti-traditionalism and the impracticality of its fashion declarations. **"Opulence" (Comic Dialogue):** Two sisters discuss whether wealthy people can afford honest servants—a brief class-conscious joke about wealth and moral compromise. **"The Dream of the Doctors' Trust":** This letter attacks physicians organizing into a monopolistic "trust," sarcastically imagining a dystopian future where medical licensing controls all aspects of life, from birth through death, enslaving the population under doctor-controlled despotism.
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Bl balled e8 508 To My Futurist Love (Fashion declares that women shall wear pink and blue hair and paint their faces in various startling hues.) Hoe“ shall I praise thee in verses ecstatical, Light of my Spirit and Queen of my Heart, Lady of pulchritude polychromatical, Ultimate triumph of Futurist art? Time was I caroled of locks that were aureate, Raved of your eyes that were limpid and blue, Now though I sing with the skill of a laureate, How can I properly celebrate you? You with the hair that is blue or carnelian, Purple or orange—according to styles— Making a mock of the well-known chameleon, Beating the spectrum by several miles; Lips that are yellow and cheeks that are violet, Eyebrows and lashes a beautiful pink— How can I lilt them in ballad or triolet When I have only one color of ink? SISTERS HIS OWN AND ANOTHER FELLOW’S Opulence OUIS: Are they rich enough to afford competent servants? Jutta: My dear! honest ones. Druggists have raided the realms pharmaccutical Seeking for pigments and powders and paint Which would impart to your hair and your cuticle Colors to make a kaleidoscope faint. Yes, you are lovely—and yet I prefer to go Far, far away from this Futurist guise; Gazing upon you has given me vertigo— Lady, you're fearfully hard on my eyes! Berton Braley. They're rich enough to afford dis- It is very true that we are small, but that does not prevent our having given a very good account of ourselves since the formation of the Union. Perhaps if it had not been for us there would not have been a Union, as Delaware was What Do You Think? We are Constantly in Receipt of Important Letters Which are Too Long for Our Limited Space. Brevity is Desirable. “The Dream of the Doctors’ Trust” Eprtor or Lir Crimes which have never been sus- pected hitherto are being disclosed by the inventive “ Doctors’ Trust". Accord- ing to their present plans, it will soon be illegal to come into the world—without the aid of a doctor! It will also be considered prima facie evidence of crime if you dic—without the aid of a physi- cian! There are some disagreeable per- sons who have insisted, on the other kand, that it is prima facie evidence of crime when a citizen dies after receiving the attentions of a medical man. It is only charitable to point out, however, that those who make this charge may possibly be prejudiced. But fancy starting life under the stigma of arrest for being born without a med- ical license! One may imagine, also, the humiliation of the departed when he realizes that there is a warrant out for his arrest, because he left without con- sulting a “ regular" doctor as to the time and manner of his going. In any event, Our medical friends are seriously planning a benevolent despotism which would make all the historic tyr- annies of ancient and modern autocrats seem like a lazy holiday in Elysium. Emerson's counsel, “Hitch your wagon to a star”, is obsolete. The modern medical advice is to yoke yourself to the fraternity and “Let the Gold Brick Twins do your work”. Medicine and its brother, Surgery, are preparing to enslave the population by means of an unlimited supervision and control of all the human activities that go to make up the individual life. This will be news to many who have placidly believed that this country we have a government “ of the people, for the people, and by the people”. We haven't! It is a govern- ment of the doctors, by the doctors, and decidedly for the doctors, W. Ss. M. Bostox, Mass., February 20, 1914. From Delaware To tHe Epitor or Lire, Dear Sir: My attention has been called to an article appearing in a recent number of your publication, entitled, “ Why is Dela- ware?” and signed “ E. O. J." which is a bitter and unwarranted attack on this little State. the first State to sign the Constitution, and, therefore, set the pace. If my memory serves me rightly, I think New York was one of the last to sign, and did so rather unwillingly. I admit that we haven't any large cities, but our population is a good deal more American than is ‘w York's, particularly New York Cit Our State has always furnished more than its quota in time of war, and also many prominent men, among them being John M. Clayton, Thomas F. Bayard, Judge George Gray, Moward Pyle, ete. ete. We have not furnished a Sulzer, nor a Tweed, nor any others such as New York and other States have had to stand sponsor for. In fact, we have distinctly shown our antipathy to individuals of this type, as evidenced by our ejection of Addicks. It seems to me there is no more rea- son for saying “Why Is Delaware?” than for saying why is anything else on this planet; and, for the matter of that, why, in the name of all interrogatives, question marks and "E. 0, J." ? exclamations, is G. P. B. Witaixctox, Deraware, February 11, 1914. comicbooks.com