Life, 1923-11-29 · page 26 of 38
Life — November 29, 1923 — page 26: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page contains two separate stories with accompanying illustrations rather than traditional political cartoons. **"Dinner Conversation"** features a mysterious stranger at a dinner party who interrupts banal male conversation (stock prices, football, cars, bootleg liquor) with arcane intellectual discourse—ancient Palmyra, the Man in the Iron Mask, alchemy, art history, and obscure historical figures. The joke is that after captivating the narrator with this erudite monologue, the stranger vanishes inexplicably, suggesting either a supernatural encounter or the narrator's dream. **"The Winter of His Content"** satirizes Hollywood's voracious appetite for exploiting any novelty. A jobless sports announcer finds employment announcing film credits with the same bombastic megaphone style he used for baseball, inventing ridiculous names (Blahahah, Umphrumpf, Oogledffa). The satire targets both Hollywood's desperate need for novelty and the industry's willingness to hire anyone offering a new gimmick. Both stories mock 1920s social pretension and Hollywood's superficiality, written in Life's characteristic witty, slightly cynical tone.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
» (EE, * Dinner Conversation PRE ladies had withdrawn, and the male element of the party, which assembled at one end of the table, were discussing over the coffee and cigars those events that most intrigued their daily lives: the closing stock-market prices, the results of yesterday’s football game, the new eight- cylinder motor car, the train service to Locusthurst, the current rates on bootleg liquor.... The buzz of conversation soothed, rather than in- terested me, and I soon found my eyelids beginning to droop. Then, from somewhere, a man I had not pre- viously observed drew up his chair next to mine, and in a low, musical voice, said: “This drivel bores you, doesn't it? Yes, I know. Well, it bores me, also. Always the same. Nothing worth hearing. Banal, dull, vapid. But tell me, do you remember anything of Palmyra, in northern Syria, with its Temple of the Sun, and Corinthian colon- nade? And what do you know of its curious queen, Zenobia, and the fall of the city during her reign? But I must teach you the true story of the Man with the Iron Mask. I must reveal to you the strange secret of the ‘Marie Céleste.’ I must whisper to you the legend of the Helmet of Invisibility. And I must relate the his- tory of the Copernican System.” On and on he rambled. He spoke of the Grande Ma- demoiselle—an appellation conferred upon Anne Marie Louise d'Orléans, Duchesse de Montpensier ; of the action of sulphuric acid upon aluminum; of the crimes of the Camorra; of 1911 Cordon Rouge; of the Shah Diamond; of the myth of Hippomenes; of the symbolism of flowers ; of the Howling Dervishes of St. Dimitry; of the signs of the Zodiac; of the snake charmers of the Nile; of the technique of Monet; of cruising in the South Seas; of Virginia cigarettes; of Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony; of Swiss watches; of red caviar.... “Shouldn't we go in with the ladies?” some one sug- gested, and I murmured assent, out of habit, and turned to look at my diverting companion. But he had disap- peared—he was nowhere to be seen, yet a second ago it had seemed he was at my elbow. Indeed, his last words were still ringing in my ears. But he had completely vanished, and I never set eyes upon him again that eve- ning. Nor have I seen him since. But then, I have not been out to dinner recently. Cc. G. S. The Winter of His Content ie was winter, and there was snow upon the ball field and ice upon the face of the scoreboard. The announcer was out of a job. The man who in summer proclaimed through a megaphone that Blahahah was now batting for Umphrumpf had nothing to do. Then inspiration dealt him a lightning blow. He applied as directed. He was hired. That night, at the gilded palace of the silver screen, he and his megaphone preceded the feature film. “Change in movie battin’ order,” he boomed professionally. “Blahahah now directin’ for Super Pictures in place of Umphrumpf. Oogledffa now subtitlin’ for Shrawah.” For anybody who can show the movie people new ways FAIREST! I’M BEGINNING TO RUST.” to mention their names to the public is sure of getting on the payroll. A. H. F. comicbooks.com