Yeshiva University - Masmid Yearbook (New York, NY)

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14 M A S M I D 16. There is no complacence like that of the radical in ridiculing the smugness of the conservative. There is nothing so conventional as his so-called freedom from conventionalism. 17. Beauty covers a multitude of sins. 18. Lying isn ' t wrong — it ' s foolish. It is not the original cost of lying that is the greatest burden, but its upkeep. 19. Cat-like, Life plays with us, amused at our puny attempts to escape the bounds of its paws. Then, its enjoyment waning, it idly destroys us. 20. Having obtained dominion over this world by a series of fortuituous events Man, in his colossal conceit, declares because he is master of the Earth the entire Universe was made for his benefit by a God whose main concern is Man ' s welfare. How bombastic is his fantastic faith to believe that he, an infinitesimal speck on an infinitesimal needle lost in an infinite hay- stack, is the reason for the existence of both the needle and the haystack! 21. There is nothing so good but that there is a limit to its value and efficacy. Re- ligion, overdone, becomes bigotry — logic, so- phistry — civilization, decadence — patriotism, junkerism — contentment, stagnancy. So it is with charity, with ambition, with love, with culture, with prosperity, with truth and with everything else we consider desirable. 22. In many cases sympathy is a com- bination of fear that you may become in- volved in like circumstances, and relief that you have not. 23. In choosing words to express our thoughts adequacy is more important than simplicity, but when simplicity is adequate complex language is affectation. 24. Courage is either the repression or the lack of imagination. 25. Many of us admire our friends be- cause we endorse their admiration of us. Much of our antagonism for others is prompt- ed by their dislike for us. 26. There are many people who spend their lifetimes trying to find out the purpose of existence and then realize that their cogi- tations occupied the time within which they ought to have lived. They were unable to comprehend that actual living is the purpose of life. 27. Being in hot-water makes us hard- boiled. AMANS AMARE My humble heart was gashed with ragged rents Ere you came. Another had already hacked with strands of hair And veiled eyes and skin of velvet Ere you came. All I could offer was a bruised pulp And in your charity you took me in — And the healing wounds again began to bleed. Now you ' re gone — Yet I feel the mightiness of my heart Exulting in its shattered bits. Trebreh

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M A S M I D 13 Pot-Pourri By EEGEE Meanderings of a miscreant mentality. 1. Idiosyncrasy is the privilege of the genius and of the successful but when pos- sessed by the average citizen makes him the subject for an alienist. 2. Reading maketb a full man sayeth Bacon. Even a prohibitionist may indulge in that form of dissipation. 3. Idealism is the saving grace of human- kind. It is the line of demarcation between the material and the mind. Without it life would be entirely a struggle for existence, an insenate desire for self-preservation — and devil take the hindmost. Idealism is the only e xcuse man has for continuing to live. 4. A cynic is usually a person who, dis- appointed in a petty personal affair, uses it as a criterion by which to judge the rest of the world. 5. Sarcasm is often a substitute for rea- son. 6. The dogmatist tells us that Vice is Vice and Virtue is Virtue — and never the twain shall meet, nevertheless there are sev- eral things that may be both: Pride is just as much a vice as it is a virtue. Conceit is a vice, self-confidence a virtue — yet both have the same origin. Vanity. 7. Stretching the truth is hyperbole for the poet, but plain perjury for the lay- man. 8. Of those who keep within the law, fifty percent do so because they fear retalia- tion; fifty percent because they haven ' t had an opportunity to violate a law — the re- mainder because they really have a moral sense of right. 9. I fear that the problems arising from a discussion of eugenics have addled my poor brain sadly. If a m.an is but a composition of good or bad characteristics inherited from his ancestors why should he be commended for talent or punished for wrongdoing — be- ing personally irresponsible for the traits that cause his actions? However, were Society not to reward abil- ity or punish crime, those born with talent would have no incentive for exercising that ability, and those born with criminalistic tendencies, and who are kept from crime by the fear of punishment under the present seemingly unjust system, would make the rest of the social organization suffer for their own unfortunate condition. The existing system of justice may be fundamentally unjust, but it is necessary. 10. The pessimist is the fellow who con- stantly tells the world that it is stuck in a rut, instead of helping to extricate it. 11. It takes two to make a quarrel, says the pacifist derogatorily, forgetting that the holy state of matrimony itself has this principle for its raison d ' etre. 12. Nothing is right unless its conse- quences are more beneficial than harmful: and nothing is wrong unless its consequences arc more harmful than beneficial. There are no exceptions to this rule. 13. Isn ' t it peculiar that those who least expect to go to Hell are most interested in it? 14. Variety is the spice of life — but our modern brand is too seasoned for healthy consumption. 15. Age that would be youth can never be more than a synthetic imitation, nor can it be more than a pathetic paradox, out of its sphere, alien both to its kind and to that which it seems to emulate. Lif e ' s inevitable flow and ebb cannot be arrested, and he who would stay the ebb-tide finds loneliness and isolation at a time when he needs most compassion and sympathy.

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M A S M I D 15 Recall By Meyer 1919 came and Allied statemen had ga- thered to piece together the fragments of justice left over by the War. Meanwhile, in a morgue of the Charney Hospital, some sur- geons were piecing together the fragments of humankind left over by the same relentless Mars . . . Silence, gloomy silence, filled the tiny morgue; and in oppressive ghostliness the spirit of a cadaver seemed to hover over some surgeons who were bowed over a still form. The lifeless eyes seemed to penetrate eterni- ties — seemed to have felt the depths of pain — seemed to be living in death . . . The fea- tures were stony cold, the heart evidently life- less — but it was the haunting ghastliness and living pain of the eyes that kept the sur- geons bowed over the body. Peace had been declared — yet one more gash of the surgeon ' s knife as a farewell to the maimed and the dead . . . One more stroke of piety for the eyes that refused to die. An incision was made in the cold body ' s breast — a hypodermic needle was thrust into the bloodless heart and a powerful stimulant was injected. Then the surgeons stepped back. They were hardened old codgers but they were held in breathless anxiety. They were calling life from the hollow chambers of the dead and were waiting for a ghastly re- turn or a decisive defeat. Defeat would be more quieting — and they hoped for a defeat. ESKOWITZ The body lay still . , . The surgeons looked at each other and smiled. They had been scared by just another ghost ... by a dead, cold man whose eyes refused to close. But their smiles froze on their lips .... Slightly, slightly — ever so tenderly — a breath of freshness seemed to fill the room . . . And on a cold slab an ashen face was taking on color — and life. The eyelids stirred, slowly the pale lips began to move, A hollow voice came from the dead: seemed to come from cold, distant climes. I see . . . I see . . . marching men . . . Bayonets . . . sunlight . . . Marching men going up front . . . They are smiling in the sunlight . . . They have never been up front — never seen the red of flames, the noise — never . . . I see other marching men . . , they are not smiling . . . Why some have no heads. Chests ripped open, entrails trailing . . . ban- daged — gored. They have fallen marching — in gory glory — but they have forgotten rest, have forgotten heaven after knowing hell . . . They remember marching, this un- smiling battalion . . . Oh, oh . . . I see my- self . . . myself . . . among the blood and the black . . . The voice stopped. The eyes closed. The ' ips were pressed together. The heart had stopped — forever. Recall was over. APROPOS THE CONFUSION OF SHORT HISTORIES: To begin with, there was much political chicanery and duplicity, and the facts could not be measured with a yardstick. America wanted to paddle her own canoe in the waters which flowed under the bridges and with which she washed her clothes in the open. As for MacDonald, he is a socialist, more than that, an Englishman: even better, a Scotchman: and the Englishman is proud of being illogical, though he has shown a brotherly love for China. The upshot was that the Germans had to tighten their belts, because you can ' t get blood out of a stone. However, if you find the nigger in the wood-pile and scratch him un- der the skin it might prove a boomerang in any election. We can easily find flaws in the Paris Peace Pact with a fine-toothed comb, since the first few words of a treaty are only window dress- ings. In fact there was a string attached to it — or rather, a rope. While France was afraid that Italy would stick her under the fifth rib. England said, A plague on both of you. That brings us to Mussolini, the Bull in the China-shop. He is known as the bad boy of Europe, the man with the chip on his shoulder, which is dangerous with so much loose powder lying around in Europe. The worst time to tread on his corns is when the shoe pinches. All of which raises the big question — what will happen when he shuffles off this mortal coili