Life, 1917-11-22 · page 16 of 44
Life — November 22, 1917 — page 16: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This 1918 *Life* magazine page satirizes Prohibition advocates through a theological dialogue. St. Peter interrogates a self-righteous Prohibitionist applicant, exposing the logical flaw in his position: Prohibition cannot actually prevent drinking—it only makes it illegal. When the applicant admits someone will always break the law to obtain alcohol, St. Peter points out the hypocrisy: the Prohibitionist knowingly advocated a policy he understood would encourage lawbreaking. St. Peter banishes him to Purgatory for 2,000 years. The satire targets moral smugness and the naive idealism of Prohibition supporters, suggesting they caused more harm than good by criminalizing behavior they couldn't actually prevent. The page's second cartoon mocks German military leadership (Hindenburg and Ludendorff), portraying their retreat as a "victory" won through creative propaganda—a jab at wartime spin-doctoring during WWI's final year.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
St. Peter Finds the Weak Spot HE sanctimonious-looking individ- ual with the thin lips rapped creetly on the pearly gates, after which he folded his hands in front of his stomach and waited with a self-satis- fied air. “What’s your business?” inquired St. Peter, opening the gates two inches and gazing distrustfuliy at the appli- cant’s smugness. “Tam a Prohibitionist,” declared the applicant in hushed tones, “and IT want to come in.” “They all want to come in,” clared St. Peter cynically. “Ki fill out this application blank, giving your name, address, religion, number of times married, good deeds and sins of omission and commission. “But I am a Prohibitionist!” ob- jected the applicant fretfully. “I am better than other people. Can't I walk right in without going through all that formality St. Peter scratched his chin medi- tatively. “Hm!” said he. “So you are a Prohibitionist, are you? Do you mind telling me just why you believe in Prohibition?” “Not at all,” smiled the applicant. “T believe in Prohibition because Pro- hibition will rid the world of the curse of drink and put an end to immeas- urable misery and poverty. If liquor cannot be obtained—” “Pardon me,” interrupted St. Peter, “but is it truly your contention that Prohibition will make liquor unobtain- able?” The applicant shrugged his shoul- ders. “Of cours he admitted, “there will always be somebody to break the law.” “In other words,” said Peter, softly jingling the keys in his pocket, “Prohibition is a condition of affairs which permits anyone to get a drink, but forces him to break the law to do. so.” The applicant kicked petulantly at a passing cloud, “ Well, that’s a rather crude way of putting it,” he ad- mitted. “And yet,” went on St. Peter gently, “you persisted in advocating Prohibi- tion, even though you knew you were encouraging the breaking of laws. “Now, see here!” protested the ap- plicant. “How dare you make any in- sinuations against my motives!” St. Peter removed the list of ques- tions from the applicant's hand and pressed an electric button at the side of the pearly gates. A buzzer sounded, and a little angel with brass buttons on his wings fluttered down at St. Peter's feet. The Siamese Twins S YS Hindenburg to Ludendorff: “Shall we retreat again? We can announce the British lost About a million men.’ Says Ludendorff to Hindenburg: “ Another victory! Just go on winning backwards—leave are The bulletins to me! “T'm not questioning your motives, my dear chap,” said he. “ You meant well; but the man who means well al- ways makes a mess of things. I'll put you on probation for a while, and give you a chance to broaden out. Here, boy! Take this gentleman down to Purgatory, and leave word that he's to report to me every two thousand years.” A moment later the pearly gates closed with a click, and there was noth- ing for the dejected applicant to do but follow the little angel with brass but- tons on his wings. KL. R. OWELL: Powett : cents. “No; everything has been marked 1 feel like fifty cents. You mean like thirty JUSTICE AS SHE IS GENERALLY DEPICT: AND AS SHE SEEMS TO THE GERMANS.