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Philosophy of Life
by Lafayette Boal
WHEN we turn the leaves in the book of life, while traveling down the corridors of time, we realize that we live in an epoch of hypocrisy, puerile deception and superficiality.
As a modern among moderns, in a materialistic age, we deeply realize and feel the scientific, historical, and philosophical truth about life and man. Remember the adage – relative to mundane affairs – which I paraphrase: We are the arbiters of our destiny, the masters of our fate – to a certain extent, along the trail.
Shakespeare, the great peer and philosopher, voiced a truism when he said, “We are only actors on the stage of life.” Really life is a great venture, the voyage on the sea of life.
On this great voyage through life harmony is essential to happiness. Harmony from within. Harmony from discord. Peace from confusion. Joy from sorrow. Love from hate. Cheerfulness from gloom. Optimism from pessimism. All nature is harmonious. It functions according to natural laws. Plant life is harmonious. There is harmony in animal life. The various planets of the universe function in perfect harmony. Only man is not harmonious, collectively, unless he discards hate, fear, greed, superstition and selfishness from his archaic concepts and social ideas on life, on society, on races, on government and civilization.
Man needs a reorientation of social concepts and a new philosophy of life. Then and then only will man achieve the very acme of human happiness – the supremacy of civilization.
Introduction
With this number is presented a magazine which is aimed to please you into whose hands it may fall. Make it your forum. If you believe you have a message to convey, a short story or poem someone may enjoy, send it to me. If it is of suitable caliber it will be accepted with pleasure.
Would you like to receive another and larger copy of this journal? The next number will be out in early autumn. If you want one or more copies of that issue, or this one, send a two-cent stamp with your request.
Are you a member of the United Amateur Press Association? If you are, and live in New England, you should join the New England Amateur Press Club. This organization fosters the activities of amateur journalists in this section of the country. Your Affiliation with the club will promote your work to greater advantage and contact you with other amateurs in your locality. For details write the secretary of the club – Francis Miller, Arlington, Mass. – The Editor.
“Laziness, rather than necessity, is the mother of invention. Not all inventors are lazy, but the fact that all inventions are aimed at the saving of labor, would seem to prove the statement. From the domestication of draft animals to, modern vacuum cleaners, the desire to escape work – shift the burden – is ever apparent. Call it increasing production, for quicker profits, if you like, yet the economic truth remains that the elimination of manual labor is basic.” – Tom Maynard.
Roses of Beauty
by Jaroslav Chmelicek
There under the cherry tree,
I stood and looked proudly about me.
For there displayed all around me
Were flowers of outstanding beauty.
The air was perfumed with their fragrance;
Their colors blended with the setting sun of crimson.
Proudly they held their colorful heads;
The posies, gardenias, and the countless roses.
They seemed too shy to be plucked by ladies hand,
And then again they seemed to be waiting for romance.
I plucked a red rose, a blood red rose,
Which for a moment seemed to glorify in its pose.
Its petals slowly revealed the crimson dresses hid beneath,
Then one slowly fluttered from his crimson hold
To be immediately swallowed by a horde
Of blooming roses which enveloped it into its fold.
I pitied now the rose I plucked,
For slowly it was dying in my hand.
Another petal fluttered to the ground,
Making an almost human sound.
I gently placed the unfortunate rose
Among its relatives from whom I had chosen
A beautiful rose, a rose of rare beauty,
Which was dying within their fold.
ADVERTISERS – Quarter page ads in this paper are twenty-five cents. 500 guaranteed circulation this issue.
Anti-Get-Away
by Barry Herbster
“THEY’VE done it again,” mumbled Joe Wagner, owner of the Wagner Food Shop.
“Who done what?” asked George, the Shop’s butcher.
“Those darn ‘Icebox Bandits,’ as the papers call ‘em,” replied Joe laying down the morning paper. “Coupla fellas going around stickin’ up groceries.”
“Where does the ‘Icebox’ business come in?” queried George.
“That’s their get-away plan. They come in a store – put the owner, helpers, and customers in the icebox. Then they raid the place and go. By the time they get out of the box the thieves are far away.
“Last night they shot a grocer who tried to draw a gun on ‘em. A gun isn’t much good against these fellas. Plenty slick, too. Robbed six stores and the police haven’t any idea who they are.”
George laughed. “Leave ‘em come in here. This cleaver does neat work…”
Two weeks passed and two more robberies were chalked up by the icebox men. It was a Saturday evening when they visited Wagner’s store.
Two neatly dressed men came in, one walked to the butcher counter and the other to the grocery department. Before he knew it, George was looking into a .45 revolver muzzle. He looked over, seeing Joe and a customer backed against a wall by the other man. He looked back longingly at the cleaver on the block.
The bandits worked with seemingly no fear. The butcher’s icebox soon had three occupants, while the bandits leisurely raided the register and other valuables. Glancing out the window now and then, they searched every nook and corner. One found Joe’s small safe and began inspecting it.
“Hands up!” came a voice behind them. Both turned swiftly, finding Joe’s head peeking over a sack of coffee. A double-barreled shotgun pointed directly at them took away all thoughts of drawing their guns…
“Pretty slick, Joe,” said George the next day. “You fixin’ a trap door in the box. Just slip down in the basement – get your gun – come up the back steps, and then fix things so you can get your name in the paper.”
The Yankee
For Literary Independence
Edited by:
William Haywood,
New York City
Member New England Amateur Press Club and United Amateur