In an editorial, the Post refuses to endorse Hubert, saying that his recent statement, "I happen to believe that our stand in Vietnam . . . was right," makes them question his "fundamental presidential qualities of wisdom and judgment." This was after the Tet Offensive, of course.
The other editorial, "Watch out for Wallace," urges us, naturally, to watch out for Wallace:
We have come . . . to such a state of fear and hysteria that one American in six openly supports a candidate who promises to suppress dissent by force.Openly! The implication that one in six Americans is a fascist was probably a little exaggerated.
Look, here's a non-fascist, "comedian" and "activist" (he's still the latter) Dick Gregory:
Comedian at work: "The northern white cop brought into the ghetto the same psychological attitude the hunter brings into the forest. It is a violent sickness, an ego-feeding device to prove one's manhood." To which one can only respond: Ha-ha?
Then Joan Didion's column. Hard to believe, but Joan's depressed again. At least her piece makes a nice companion for Gregory's. Titled, "On becoming a cop hater," it's all about how cops have talked mean to Joan not once, but a couple of times. Concluding sentence: "I do not go around using words like "blue Fascism," but it has been a very long time since I thought of a cop as a friend in blue."
"Ideal for the 99 out of 100 wives who refuse
Funny that so many wives refused to "fuss" with their husband's "Cameras" back in the swingin' 60s. Oddly, the first thing I found about the Fotron was a class-action lawsuit against the company that made it. The "electronic" color camera, selling for more than $450 (in 1968!), apparently didn't work worth a damn.
Then a profile of Hubert by Stewart Alsop. Not enthusiastic at all, as the accompanying cartoons echo:
Waaaah: Hunter Thompson's line about Hubert (one of them, anyway): “Hubert Humphrey is a gutless old ward-heeler who should be stuffed in a bottle and shipped out on the Japanese current.”
Then writer Milton Viorst on Chicago Mayor Richard "J." Daley and the convention:
"Later this month the Democratic National Convention is scheduled to come to town, and unless Daley puts on a virtuoso display of skill and authority, all hell is certain to break loose."
Probably anybody could have guessed that.
Finally, another ad, which I include only because it's the second one in the mag that has little disembodied heads floating around in it:
Here's a close-up:
And here, again, are the li'l heads in the Fotron ad:
Amazing: There's much to learn about these tiny-headed people. Do they have a union? Why are all the women wearing papier-mâché wigs? Is LaSalle graduate James M. ("Thanks for your splendid cooperation") Umphlett still only a little Umph?
Update: The odd-haired women, by the way, will remind longtime Drunkablog readers if any of the sainted Mother Watson.
Update II: Christopher Hitchens' in the Times reviews a book about Hunter Thompson by his longtime illustrator, Ralph Steadman (via a Judd or reasonable facsimile, in a post titled (referring to Thompson), "Great stylist, miserable human being").