Life, 1923-02-08 · page 12 of 36
Life — February 8, 1923 — page 12: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This cartoon satirizes aggressive advertising practices by depicting a bearded figure (likely representing a stereotypical "Eastern" merchant or dealer) hawking a product labeled "Salad Dressing Used by Nebuchadnezzar When He Lives on Grass." The satire works on multiple levels: First, it mocks absurd advertising claims that invoke historical/biblical figures to lend false legitimacy to products. Second, the reference to Nebuchadnezzar—the Babylonian king who, according to the Book of Daniel, ate grass as punishment—creates obvious humor: advertising a salad dressing to someone eating actual grass is nonsensical. The cartoon critiques how advertisers exploit any reference, however ridiculous or inappropriate, to manipulate consumers into buying products.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
SALAD DRESSING USED BY NERUCHADNEZZAR WHEN HE LIVED ON GRASS! The Art of Advertising we & Was Taking a Leaf Out of the Book of Daniel. Last Thoughts (These strange notes were found by an interne. They were submitted to this magazine with the comment that the handwriting was extraordinary, to say the least. Accordingly, it was decided to publish them—The Editor.) OW that I am approaching the end and the dcctor has told me I am doomed by saying, “Well, of course, there is always a chance that there will be a turn for the better,” I am going to record my last thoughts. I am on the threshold of the Great Adventure, just as I have been so many times before when I have taken chances on strange hooch. Until now I have always won;. perhaps because. bootleggers are more kindly than Nature. But it seems that I am all set for the wrong drink at last. I wonder if Alys will remember me? Of course she will. Every time she takes down the lace gown I tore at the Welchons’ dance . . . And departing, leave behind us, footprints on a maiden’s train. Not much chance to try my new driver next spring. That’s out, I suppose. And I was just beginning to get some distance. Wouldn’t it be great if there were a nineteenth hole on some nice, fleecy cloud? But then, think of the hellish hazard below. Like as not, I’d slice the first one I drove; and my caddy would refuse to go after it. Could I drop a ball at the edge and lose a stroke; or would I have to play it from the lie? My day nurse is going to hear John McCormack to- night. She'll probably cry over “Mother Machree,” and then when she comes back in the morning and they tell her about me, she'll say, “Oh, is he?” and powder her nose. Oh, well, it's woman's prerogative to cry when you do not want her to. I should like to make a bet that Babe Ruth comes back and breaks his home-run record next season. Wonder if I couldn't do that; bet the whole of my estate against an equal sum—double for my heirs or nothing? Hard to find a taker. Gambling always makes people queer. Look at the way Eddie used to insist on rubbing his hand over some- one’s bald spot before he sat in a poker game. But then, maybe some of his ancestors were barbers. The coal I ordered is sure to be delivered now, but I can’t very well have it forwarded. The shortage cannot have extended that far. It would be strange to take it; beat carrying it to—(Here the writing grows quite indis- tinct and becomes difficult to decipher. The next word seems to be “Newcastle,” and the concluding phrase, unfinished, is printed below—The Editor.) Every day in every way I am getting better and bet— J.K.M A Close-Up Sue: Do you really believe that kisses are dangerous? He: Well, I read somewhere that cosmetics were poi- sonous. “What is an optimist, Pop?” “An optimist is a married man who is not a pessimist.” comicbooks.com