He hit the line hard and did not flinch. And his laugh
shook the skies.
Came Wilson. And the Typical American was troubled about his soul.
Rooted firmly in the church-going past, he carried the banner of
the Lord, Democracy, idealistic, bent on perfecting that old
incorrigible Man, he cuts off the right hand that offends him and
votes for prohibition and woman suffrage, a Round Head in a Ford.
Eight years and we have the perfectly typical American, Warren
Gamaliel Harding of the modern type, the Square Head, typical of
that America whose artistic taste is the movies, who reads and
finds mental satisfaction in the vague inanities of the small town
newspaper, who has faith in America, who is for liberty, virtue,
happiness, prosperity, law and order and all the standard
generalities and holds them a perfect creed; who distrusts anything
new except mechanical inventions, the standardized product of the
syndicate which supplies his nursing bottle, his school books, his
information, his humor in a strip, his art on a screen, with a
quantity production mind, cautious, uniformly hating divergence
from uniformity, jailing it in troublous times, prosperous, who has
his car and his bank account and can sell a bill of goods as well
as the best of them.
People who insist upon having their politics logical demand to know
the why of Harding.
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