Life, 1914-06-11 · page 40 of 44
Life — June 11, 1914 — page 40: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page is primarily **advertising and editorial content** rather than political satire. The **left side** features Arrow Shirt advertisements showcasing men's formal wear ($1.50–$10.00), with a classical illustration of a well-dressed man and a small "Not Guilty" cartoon captioned with Shakespeare ("Thou wert not made for slumber!"). The **right side** contains "The Country of Brain," a **allegorical essay** (not a cartoon) personifying the human brain as a landscape. It describes the "Ego" as a mysterious ruler who organizes six billion brain cells like a colonizer settling territory—building villages, appointing operators, and managing communication networks. The satire critiques how individuals either squander their mental capacity recklessly or wastefully underutilize it, with the Ego bearing sole responsibility for this management. The illustration shows a figure atop a hill with signs reading "A," "M," "E" (possibly spelling "AME" or referencing memory/associations). This is **self-help satire** rather than political commentary—mocking human productivity and self-management through pseudo-scientific metaphor.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
1088 -ARROW SHIRTS S21 k—Fxquisite colors and patterns in durable washable silks $3.00 to $10.00 Madras ana other desirable shirtings in specially attractive designs, in authentic styles suitable for town and country wear $1.50, 82.00, $2.50 and up Cluett Peabody Makers, Troy, } Not cuitry ‘Most glorious night! Thou wert not made for slumber!" Printed in fu// color on fine Bristol board, size 12 x 16. PRICE 25 CENTS Sent prepaid on receipt of remittance. LIFE PUBLISHING COMPANY, 17 West 31st Street, New York City “THE VIEW FROM THE GROUND WAS BETTER” The Country of Brain SCIENTIST named Mellus has recently estimated that the average brain contains six billion cells of gray ler, which gives a daily allowance of three hundred and three thousand cells for fifty years. By economizing a little, cutting off, say, four or five thousand cells a day, there will be enough to last for seventy or eighty years, When you begin your carcer these six billion cells are lying around loose in your skull, waiting to be strung together or connected up, in the process which was at one time popularly known as thinking. At this moment the door opens and a mysterious stranger named your Ego, who comes from unknown parts, enters and takes possession. His business is to arrange the cells in orderly piles or string them together in groups, and Dlaze trails among them, He puts a rubber stamp on each cell, ties it to the other, and, as he moves about, puts up signboards along the vari- ous paths he makes. Every cell he stamps thus becomes a repeater, He builds iittle villages here and there, and strings wires from one to the other, so they can all be in communication. He appoints reliable cells who have shown their merit, as operators. When they are all“ on their job”, then the whole area that Daniel Boone Ego has cleared and settled is very mich alive. But frequently they drop off to sleep, and whole villages and large settlements are cut off from the Ego headquarters. Sometimes the wires are down. Mr. Ego, who, the moment he entered and took possession, had himself elected president and general manager, is entirely alone in his responsibility. No one opposes him and no one can help him. In some cases he is naturally ambitious and spends all of his time building cell-blocks (such as poems) and making all sorts of things with them, using them up like a madman, with the most reckless prodigality. Thus an Ego has been known to put in action the entire six billion cells in less than thirty years. At other times he makes a quiet little nest for himself of a couple of hundred thousand cells, puts on a mud roof and wooden sills, and goes to sleep for the rest of his existence, while the other five billiot nine hundred and ninety-nine million, eight hundred thou- sand cells are all standing around aimlessly, waiting, like comicbooks.com