Life, 1918-12-05 · page 27 of 76
Life — December 5, 1918 — page 27: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This satirical piece mocks the hypocrisy of middle-class wartime morality. Mr. Pitkin proposes creating a list of "unreliable people" to eliminate from their social circle, arguing that during wartime (WWI, based on references to allies and enemy aviators), society must cut wasteful social obligations and focus resources efficiently. The joke's punchline is Pitkin's immediate self-contradiction: having just lectured about avoiding unreliable people, he's now *ten minutes late* to the Perkins's dinner—making himself exactly the kind of unreliable person he condemns. His moral posturing collapses under the weight of his own inconsistency. The accompanying "Christmas Dinner" comic strip shows a parallel theme: bringing an unexpected waif guest to dinner, suggesting that actual kindness trumps social conventions—a counterpoint to Pitkin's cold calculation about whom to "cut out."
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
Christmas Dinner Chimmie Connor's rather dubious repu- tation gives Mary her first doubt as to an available guest. A forlorn and unexpected waif appears. Christmas Life Especially as she knows she must inciude Uncle Ed’s silky old snob, Sportsman, for family reasons. Arriving at the Christmas dinner in the nick of time, mother exclaims: ey Oh, Ellen, allow me to introduce my own special guest. Your celebration would not be complete without him.” 829 Those Unreliable People “H! E'S that list,” said Pitkin. “What list?” asked Mrs. Pitkin. “Oh!” exclaimed Pitkin. “I forgot to tell you, didn’t I? Well, the other day I was thinking of some of the un- reliable people whom we know, and it occurred to me that, for the sake of convenience, it would be a good idea to make a list of them; and here it is.” “For what purpose?” “Well, since the war we've been too busy to waste time on superfluous things. We must cut them out. I would therefore suggest that we keep this list before us, adding to it occa- sionally, as it may be necessary, and ‘hat hereafter we avoid these people.” “But they are all such nice peopl “Delightful; if they were not, we would have dropped them long ago. But consider! Is it worth while to know them all, simply for the privilege of waiting upon street corners, or over cold dinners, or seeing plays when they are half over?” “And have you thought of the fact that a large proportion of reliable peo- ple are uninteresting; their very re- liability makes them bores. They have so few human weaknesses!" Pitkin reflected. “No,” he said de- cidedly, “this war has changed every- thing. From the moral standpoint we cannot afford to encourage people who are unreliable.” Then he stopped suddenly and drew his watch out. , “Do you realize the fact that we promised to be at the Perkins’s at seven o'clock sharp?” “Well, what time is it now?” asked Mrs. Pitkin languidly. “Ten minutes past.” Slangy Advice to— A CLIPPING BUREAU: Cut it out. A Bootblack: Rub it in. An Escalator: Step lively. Our Allies: Come across. A Pretty Nurse: Have a heart. An Enemy Aviator: Drop out. An Irish Regiment; Stand pat. “BOBBIE, is your sister home? sir; only to men in uni-