Life, 1923-02-01 · page 9 of 40
Life — February 1, 1923 — page 9: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
The cartoon depicts a cigarette shop scene where a young man browses while two customers (appearing to be older gentlemen) stand nearby. A prominent poster advertises "Smoke the Shriek" and "The Passionate Cigarette." Below, the text "Meditations of a Young Intellectual" presents satirical commentary from a self-described "individualist" and "pagan" from Iowa. The narrator boasts of rejecting conventional morality, dismissing his parents' values, frequenting Sunday "ripping parties," and fabricating scandals at social gatherings to appear important. The satire targets young intellectual poseurs of the era—those adopting bohemian affectations and moral relativism while pursuing wealth and status. The cigarette brand "The Passionate Cigarette" likely mocks the affected sophistication such individuals cultivate. The overall piece ridicules the pretensions of would-be rebels who embrace hedonism while remaining fundamentally materialistic.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
“I want some cigarettes for my aunt.” “Virginia?” “No, Lucy.” Meditations of a Young Intellectual CAME from Sioux City, Iowa. individualist, a pagan. worth knowing, and burn incense to no other person or I am an artist, an I know practically everything deity. Anyone who does not realize and acknowledge my genius can go to the devil. Cheerio, who bothers alout such swine? see Those who bandy my name about as one of the minor poets had better watch their step—banana skins are cheap. ee [ always keep Sundays for my ripping parties. **** I write a bit on week days. Persons who use Sunday for anything but pleasure are duds. Goodness knows, six days are quite enough to slave in. Bless the good old Sabbath ! *_* * I have cut out Mother and Dad; they are positively B.C, and know nothing about Life or Art. They groused about everything I wanted to do, so I told them to keep their advice to themselves and leave me alone. I am distilling hemlock for three old Editors. They are back numbers, have no artistic appreciation, and the world will be better off when they are under the ground. **_** Mid-Victorian: morals are absurd. Experience is the thing. I must know all of Life, and I shall. ** * I take a line or two now and then from some old Holy Roller who used to write ages ago, and the best of it I use in my poems. Why not? I am perfectly justified. Everybody does it. * ke I make up the most intriguing scandal about people and tell it at parties. I am a riot. *_** It is not fair. The people who have all the things I want are either too old or too fat, mentally or physi- cally, to really enjoy anything. I want Goulding’s Rolls- Royce, Walter’s exquisitely sensitive wife, Boswell’s peach of a valet, and that heavenly cook of Mrs. Sable’s. I intend to have everything. I shall marry a rich girl. L. G. comicbooks.com