Captain Billy's Whiz Bang, October 1921 · page 37 of 68
Captain Billy's Whiz Bang #25 — page 37: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This is an opinion piece defending prize fighting (boxing) against moral critics. The author argues that boxing isn't inherently more brutal than other socially accepted uses of force—like law enforcement or property protection—which also rely on physical threat. The satire targets moral hypocrisy: society condemns boxing as "mercenary" and "sordid," yet accepts profit-driven commerce and mortgages without complaint. The author suggests that critics are motivated by snobbish class prejudice rather than genuine ethical concerns. The piece also contains a cryptic cultural reference: opposing prize fighting somehow threatens to make America "a nation of male toe dancers"—likely mocking what the author sees as emasculating cultural trends or foreign influences the "organized minority" (unclear which group) supposedly promotes. The final line, "My hip is often my castle," appears unrelated, possibly a separate joke or personal motto from Captain Billy himself.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
Captain Billy's Whiz Bang 35 A “prize fight” is no more brutal than any other manifestation of power; no more “disgraceful” in what we call civilization than any other application of force. Force rules the universe; nothing can resist it. It would take physical force to maintain any law against prize fighting just as it takes physical force to keep the bathing beauties from discarding their two-ounce outfits as too burdensome to wear. Prize fighting is a “disgrace to civilization” only because it is mercenery, venal, sordid; yet we loan our money on mortgages and sell our goods at a profit with never a thought of disagreeable civilization. The fighter sells his ability to clout another prize fighter on the chin before the other bambino of the bulging biceps bangs him on his own proboscis. The power of the state is behind all human law and activity—the threat of physical enforcement keeps Pedro, Jr., out of Neighbor Jones’ alfalfa patch. Society is protected by force and sometimes with arms. Our civilization is merely armed resistance to “barbarism” and the brutality is always under the thin pretense of “culture” and “refinement.” We have no desire to see America a nation of male toe dancers. Let there be “prize fighting” if it is to help save the country from the bigotry of the organized minority. If we don’t look out we’ll soon be as unprotected as a toke point oyster on the half shell—and it will be the folk who are raving about prize fighting that will do it. * * * My hip is often my castle.