Life, 1917-04-19 · page 12 of 42
Life — April 19, 1917 — page 12: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page contains two satirical pieces. "The Wicked W-ren," a poem by Arthur Guiterman, uses alliteration to mock a small, mischievous bird that wreaks havoc on other birds' nests. The extended "W" sounds suggest childish annoyance, making fun of overwrought complaints about minor nuisances. "The Passing of Insults" critiques how modern civility has eliminated direct confrontation. The author argues that while old-fashioned insults were damaging, contemporary society's "insult market" has become ineffective because people understand each other too well and misunderstandings are rare. The accompanying cartoon shows schoolchildren, suggesting young people experience less impact from verbal attacks than previous generations did.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
IF HONOKS WERE JUSTLY AWAKDED The Passing of Insults NSULTS, always three-fourths im- aginary, are nothing like so numer- ous or so influential as they used to be. As the old-estzblished forms of insult pass away, few new ones are in- vented to replace them. Consequently there are hardly any recognized meth- ods nowadays whereby a man may in- sult his neighbor without injuring himself to a much greater degree. The application of epithets was once a sure method of insult, but now we helieve that it is more blessed to re- ceive an epithet than to give it. The value of being advertised by your enemies is almost getting past its usefulness, Then, too, we are becoming better acquainted with each other all the time | id swith the unive! and with the laws thereof. All this makes it more and more difficult for us to misunder- stand each other. As no insult is com- plete without misunderstanding, it is clear that the insult market is bound to slump when such a state of affairs exists. WE shrink from knowing how many pleasant, friendly cats and dogs have been tortured on the vivisecting table because we are too lazy or too conventional to protest against the practice. The Wicked W-ren HE little W-ren is a wicked w-retch ; “2 He cannot be good for a day at a stretch ; Whenever a Doodlebug crosses his path, He snaps it! werath. w-reaking his awful W-rangling, he worries his Brothers in. Song, W-recking their nests, which is plainly w-rong. Such deeds are w-rought by the wicked W-ren,— Weriting their record w-renches my pen. But just let me catch him !—for though he is lithe And quick to w-rithe, With supple w-rist I will settle him then, W-ringing the neck of W-ren! w-restle, w-riggle, the wicked eIrthur Guiterman, I it better to declare war or divi- dends ? “WILLIE, THIS HURTS ME MORE THAN IT DOES You.” “WHAT DOES, TEACHER?”