The daily worker. [volume] (Chicago, Ill.) 1924-1958, 1926-09-18
A Fable
G. is AN AMUSING ORATOR.

suspected the other and and painted only for
himself
Their work mostly rehash of the contents of
old and libraries. They agreed on thing:
all hated machinery and yearned for the past.
But wanted Greece, others India others Africa
few craved the middle ages, inquiston guilds and
handmade pottery. A few the happy days Of Daniel
Boone in America not new social world but Indians
to fight No toilets bath-tubs ypewriters The simple
simple life. Quiet. Art So they lived in q and
hated each other e.f#
Young Proletaire thought he would sauitats them
Teach them to accept change. To be young. dynamic
and brave. He dragged them blinking from cave
stencil and neas into the world sunlight .Sfs
He was doctor and made them oratiaa- S
"Fellow-workers are you happy? No Has your
work improved since you fed the New America and
took to cave? No. It has become progressively rotten
why do you fear the machines? Their noises? Tho
ugly environment they create for themselves7 The
slavery they have set up? Yes, but all that Is asst
Only four hours work day now, in factories butt by
sculptors doctors and engineers The nation owns the
machines now. No more wage slavery, cheapness
aduteration, commercalsm ALI that was part Of the
miser's Amerca-not ours
"The machines give leisure They are our slaves
now. And they give creative joy.
Eyes, have Joy of the machines. They are truth
in action Their swift lines are the new sculpture
Their rhythms in the mans music. Precision;
mathematics: world law
"Have destroyed bunk. In art and science have
killed rhetoric metaphysics.
mo. they have not killed Art Only weak art false
art Art will always live. Needs protective tariff.
gentlemen.
"Introspective art has died, you say? Noble study
OF the umb1ical7 Good We will study the world.
Machines move like the planets with grand and
awful precision. And the gods who set them
moving. r. ~
"They have given a thousand fingers eyes, care
and senses. 'ss'~F
~Our thought at ratio Of Is to over the old
humanity Earth diggers behind pillow plodded in
thought at four miles an hour Our minds move with
aeroplane wings, 100 miles hour. Speed e9Fe eFS
THE ecstacy OF speed is better than the eoetacy Of
fear grovelling before god. Is lie, but physics
Is healthy Is controlled by Needs no dogma or
priests inquisition. Machine-speed
Machines are the death of child-magic. But the
birth of man-magic.
Machines are the will Of man. He is master Of
life.
Machines mako social An individual Can4Dt
create dynamo.
Machines unnatural you say? But what is natural
Only rocks trees, heas and germs! Is not mans
thought natural Machines are thought expressed IN
steel. @f
what have you to offer the worker in place Of the
machines? +H' 'seos ss
"serfdom to priests and feudal landlords. Waited
huts c@ F14 rs IT, le
What have you to offer the artist in place Of the
machines? s,1ss
"Roses and nightingales in libraries Quiet cultured
Despair Little complaints. Handwoven neckties
Lurid egoretchings Partisan cards naked ladies
Peter Pan Village morbidity. Inbreeding Acadamic
cowardice The Oxford manner. Tom Jones' the pdcar
esque. o, the pcaresque The spiritualt The soul!
The vacuum! @e' -'1'StS o. @S
"And love-n three jealous acts in a bedroom. with
shooting or happy cnch at final curtain This Is
your art. Stupid Smells Of the cave. ~
Machines take man out Of the bedrooms and w
lagos into immense known as factories ana rev,
outions Better than boudors and monasteres. Heroic,
Machines have come to stay We love them heroic
ally, as men once loved the ThunderGod
| accent the mr. In l.
NAL subjective cave. 7" 'o@ u
The writer's and painters chose to remain IN their
cave. They were old; 1t effort to pull life
about ones ears and build anew. New thoughts
agony at first, like boys puberty.
But millions Of better artists being among
the workers each year. So Young Proletaire did not
lack for art.
2 THE HOUND OF HEAVEN