Life, 1916-12-21 · page 4 of 36
Life — December 21, 1916 — page 4: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page presents a Christmas 1916 editorial by Earl Simonson criticizing American leadership during World War I. The "Merry Christmas" essay sarcastically contrasts the nation's suffering—soldiers fighting, dying, and living in poverty—with complacent ruling classes enjoying luxury. Simonson condemns both major political conventions (Chicago and St. Louis) for failing to nominate a leader "fitted equally by experience and capacity" to guide America through the crisis. He laments that qualified leadership was "denied us." The left column lists circus acts, likely satirizing how Americans are distracted by entertainment while serious national problems persist. The bottom cartoon labeled "Team Work" appears to show figures pulling together, though its specific meaning is unclear without additional context.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
The Country Circus 'HE parade down Main Street. The waiting in line. The suffocating side- shows. The Tattooed Turk. The Bearded Lady. The whiskers that slip. The Living Skeleton. The “smallest giant in the world.” The “largest dwarf on exhibition.” The “ What Is It?” The hairy disguise. The lack of ventilation. The mangey lion. The panting puma. The sulky elephant. The painted zebra. The main tent. The seat you can’t find. The flying trapeze. The hat it knocks off. The villainous ring-mas- ter. The bare-back rider. The flaming hoop. The sawdust that covers you. The grotesque clowns. The old “gags.” The “good one” on you. The cracking “ slap-stick.” The tight-rope. Merry Christmas ! ND so it has come. On this Christmas Day, at the close of the year of grace 1916, the American Nation has at length arrived at the dead neap of any sort of force- fulness—spiritual, moral, military or commercial. A soldier world is fighting and slaving and dying; and reclining sleepily in a fifty-dollar box, utterly unconscious of the fact that theatres have been known to burn down, is this fat, complacent individual, this travesty on the old New Eng- land farmer. Fat and complacent the ruler classes may well be. Cater- ing to Europe at fancy prices, by the very law of supply and demand, they may enforce fancy prices here. But the working man is not catering to Europe. Not all wages have gone up. But all necessities have. Butter is become as the gold of Ophir. Ham sandwiches are seven cents each, and the shrinking nickel cut of pie titters coyly in a corner of the tin. The entire machinery for selecting a Chief Executive has broken down. The Chicago Convention did not choose the man the people wanted; no more did the St. Louis Con- vention, The time cried out for the one man fitted equally by experience and capacity to lead America through the years of trouble. He was denied us. The world is not blind. We are standing in the centre of the Colosseum, naked to the night, while the tiers are loud with clanking swords, and Mars is laughing into his helmet. To such a condition is the Nation reduced at the close of the year 1916. To such a pass has all our vaunted Prosperity brought us. Merry Christmas! Earl Simonson. TEAM WORK The volunteer in the audi- ence. The disrobing act. The “tights” underneath. The discarded wig and beard. Rollo the Wire King! The performing sea-lions. The diving hippopotamus. The boy contortionist. The knot he can’t undo. The snake charmer. The rubber snakes, The sword swallower. The collapsible sword. The trick bears. The tricks that fail. The Whirling Dervishes. The Dervish that lands on your neck, The people who help you out The dazed feeling. The welcome hack. Bed! Hazardous Occupations USBAND. Umpire. Cheer leader. The dealer. Peacemaker. Movie actor. Innocent bystander.