Here are excerpts from some more old newspapers I found in my file cabinets, this time from the Rocky Mountain News, circa the late 1930s. They may have been left behind by an old roomate, or I might have acquired them from a used book shop during a visit to Denver. The truth is, I don't remember where these came from.
I do know where they are now. Old newspapers corrode if you don't look after them, until they're all over your hands and up your nose, and I do mean mold. They make much better landfill than they do office clutter.
Even better than that, they provide a marvellous snapshot of a slumbering giant at a vital juncture of history. Facing unrest at home and chaos abroad, America and its craven lapdog (the press) respond much the same as they do today: with bubble-headed reporting, unfortunate coverage choices and oppressive deceitful advertisements. But these are things that cause me great joy. Why else would I share them with you?
Confusion abounds in the halls of our annointed leaders. One member of the public offers a solution.
We'd never suggest that our competitor's product is shit, but we must insist that the men who run their company are scoundrels. On the other hand, our product does all the things you would expect a product like ours to do. We can't tell you what that is, but we know you trust us.
Swift and firm is the punishment for any woman who strays from her prescribed role. But toeing the line can be equally dangerous.