CURRENT COMMENT

Taranaki Daily News, 15 September 1934, Page 13 (Supplement)

CURRENT COMMENT

OTHER POINTS OF VIEW

(By

M.O.S.)

What’s the price of fruit ?—The answer’s an orange. * * * * Taranaki might have won the Hanfur ly Shield—only Waikato hadn’t got it. * * * * It should be clearly understood that the professors at Auckland are in favour of open-air meetings, not hot-air meetings. * ♦ # * Overheard at the theatre: Young woman (confidentially and with the air of one who has made a discovery) to her companion after a comedian had been doing his verbal best for 10 minutes, “That man must be the comedian.” * * :1s * Newspaper heading—“ Man Brutally Murdered by —.” Introducing brutality into a popular Continental pastime. * * * * It is hard to realise the antiquity of the stars by merely gazing at them through a telescope, an astronomical journal says. And, after seeing some plays, through opera glasses from the dress circle. * & * ifc An “epic of the air,” says an exchange in describing the film “Night Flight.” Landlords have other names for night ■ flights. # * # * Items from the week’s news:— “A new roller is required for the pitch. At the meeting several new members were enrolled.” Initiation ceremony evidently. “The tallest man who ever lived was a native of Palermo; he was 30 feet.” That’s either a centipede or a tall story. *** ■ ♦ “Eagles live to be 300 years old.” The one belonging to our lame golfer, who is on a handicap of 24, will live easily as long as he does, anyway. * * * * This is the season of flower shows—and very nice too. Some shows have . classes for vegetables also, and that always reminds M.O.S. of Punch’s story about the man who was very proud, of the giant gooseberries he grew- He told a friend he had entered them in the local show. The same friend Was surprised to find him very disconsolate after the show. His prize exhibit in the heaviest gooseberry class' was highly commended as a pumpkin. * * * * Pungent Parable. Women, says Miss Elsie Andrews, have set their faces against war. Next time there’s an argument the Women’s Peace Army is going to march out and sit in No Man’s Land and say: “Now do ‘ your damdest, you unreasonable critters !” But the office nitwit has had a prophetic dream. He dreamed that he ■ was an Utopian schoolboy in the year 3044 doing an Esperanto sight-translation, Esperanto then being an Archaic language. And this is what he wrote:— On the fourth day the legions had dug their trenches and crawled into them bearing instruments of war, rifles and Mills bombs and mortars. And the quartermasters served rations of rum and the sergeants-major exhorted their men, enlarging upon the iniquity of the enemy and saying, “It is a war to end war, soldiers. When we have reached victory the world will be safe for democracy !” • And the armies were drawn up in the fashion of the time. Behind, the foot soldiers, were cohorts of cannoneers with every nianner of cannon, and behind the cannoneers were the impedimenta of the army and legions of foot soldiers in reserve. And behind the impedimenta were the camp followers, and behind the camp followers the legates of the staff, and behind them all, according to the custom of the day, the generals, who wore upon their heads helms of steel and dwelt deep in the earth in case of accidents. To the generals when the plan of battle was prepared came messengers in haste saying, “Behold, women have come on to the field in a great multitude ! And they have sat between the legions, knitting and washing clothes, and cry out, 'Sons, you cannot . join battle without harming us, who are women !’ ”

“And is all ready to join battle?” asked the chief general. The legates spake and said, “All is ready.” “It is well,” said the chief general, laughing. “Knitting indeed! And what have women to do with knitting in these enlightened times? Are they not the equal of men in all things? “Indeed,” said the legates, surprised. “Has it not been established since ancient times ?”

“So be it,” said the chief general. “Give the order to fire!” And the soldiers fired. And that was the end of it. * if * * Increasingly :Chemical. LifC so they tell us, used to be a pageant; knights in armour and lovely ladies throwing them dandelion flowers when they were successful with their pig-sticking; great handsome heroes tearing bulls limb from limb as the poor roasted creatures turned giddily round their spits; Robin Hoods, and fat friars and galley slaves; in short chivalry with a capital C and a real thrill in the shiver. All the same until this week we had our heroes, too. Don’t we all remember vitamins? What were they? The general feeling was in favour of small scarlet creatures with hairy chins, a centipedal number of legs and fiery yellow eyes waving on the end of curly stalks. They made uncanny noises like microbial pigs. They never grew old or bad-tempered or changed, and providing you treated them as the whale did Jonah they were happy. They loved the red inside of you best of all. Now some professor has tracked them down. And what are they ? Chemical compoundsl Revolting! Immediately they take their place with Epsom Salts and Plaster of Paris and Potassium Permanganate. Soulless, slightly ridiculous, wholly unromantic! Imagine what will happen in a few years from now. “You must have one good meal of vitamins,” they’ll say. They will even know how to pronounce it. “Poor old Harry went off his vitamins so he was taken to the asylum,” they will - say. “And that young fellow should have sown his vitamins by now.” "Tired are you? Listless, feel every effort is intolerable ? Vitamin Dis what you want. Blotchy, unsightly skin ? Vitamin C gives you that schoolgirl complexion. Vitamin A keeps the doctor away. Just enough vitamin B to cover a. sixpence and you will feel like a youngster. And vitamin E gives you sex-appeal.” It is useless to go on. As we said, life is an increasingly sordid business, increasingly, chemical. The day of heroes and villains is done, Their place is taken by a mass of protein with a magnesium personality, and a carbohydrate fellow lacking sufficient calcium.