Life, 1921-12-29 · page 5 of 35
Life — December 29, 1921 — page 5: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page satirizes the Armaments Conference and naval disarmament debates of the early 1920s. The title references the Volstead Act (Prohibition legislation), cleverly comparing international weapons treaties to alcohol prohibition. The main cartoon depicts a host showing hunting trophies to a guest—appearing to represent Uncle Sam (America) displaying naval vessels/weaponry. The dialogue suggests skepticism about disarmament agreements: characters discuss converting battleships into "moonshine dockyards" and worry such treaties won't actually work, expecting nations will cheat and secretly maintain military power. The satire mocks the naive optimism of international disarmament efforts, suggesting countries cannot be trusted to honor weapons-reduction agreements—they'll find sneaky ways around the rules, much like bootleggers circumvent Prohibition.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
LIFE The International Volstead Act HIS Limitations of Arma- ments Conference was a great little idea. Every- body admits it. Even Wil- liam Jennings Bryan ad- ae) mits it. For once he z’y\ seems to be on the aS unanimous side. But doubts of the 4 ™ plan’s success (not, however, inspired by Mr. Bryan’s ad- yocacy of it) are beginning to creep in. Is it a matter of fact, enforceable? Or have we merely another case of prohibition ? ume we decide to have a ten-year naval holiday. We order existing bat- tleships and dockyards demolished. If prohibition is any criterion, the night after the agreement is signed, a mys- terious stranger will approach the re- spective back doors of the White House, 10 Downing Street and the Itahashi Stomakeki, or whatever the Japanese Executive Mansion is called. Uncle Host (showing hunting trophies): Sam, John Bull and the Japanese What- youmaycallim will open the door cau- tiously, look around for detectives, and jerk the mysterious stranger inside by the lapel. Then substantially the fol- lowing colloquy will take place: UncLe SAM ET AL.: Well? Tue Mystertous STRANGER: many you need? “Well, I guess about three post-Jut- lands’ll fix me up for the present.” “A’right. Cost you $400,000,000 apiece, delivered.” “Aw, for the love of Mike, be rea- sonable! Why, before the agreement—” “T know all that. You guys think that bootleggin’ battleships is like playin’ button button. Nothin’ to it but settin’ up a couple o’ moonshine dockyards in some backwoods South Sea island, dis- tillin’ off a few dreadnaughts and ship- pin’ ’em to the house in Fords. Sure, it’s easy for you guys that don’t have to take none of the risks to talk. Nope— $400,000,000's the price.” How getting these together. “Well, all right. I s’pose I got to stand for it. When’ll you deliver ’em?” “1924. But you'll have to find a place to put ’em.” “All right. G’night.” The Mysterious Stranger will be let out into the void whence he came. Uncle Sam or John Bull or the Japa- nese Whatyoumaycallim will tiptoe up- stairs and, as he slides into bed, will mutter: “’S a hold-up. I'll have to start a few private dockyards in the back country and make a few cruisers myself. These bootleggers don’t care what kind of junk they hand you.” Later he will do it. And then he'll have his hands full dodging enforce- ment agents, with the additional possi- bility that his ships will blow up and make a terrible mess in the cellar. . . . Of course, it may not work out that way at all. We hope it won't. But, when one thinks of a Volstead Act, one has one’s doubts, one has one’s doubts— Baron Ireland. VAN i are str I tell you, my boy, I’ve had many a hairbreadth escape Guest: Very interesting. You must come to my place some time and see my siamp collection. comicbooks.com