Page 236

By Jack Joseph Smith

piece by dawn, dismantled her apparatus, and dis- embarked from her mosaical painting leaving the public to decide if a nude is justifiable when she has nothing to sell. As the long stick mops reached for the last of the bosoms Jauqeline wondered with a bit of aston- ished laughter, "what are they doing up there?" And she continued on making a statement about her ques- tion. First off in a gruff tone. "The advertising sensual slaughter house must believe that nudes are a hazzard when not bought and sold." Now affected manner and speach. "And they have told the politice- ans; who obviously need their help," into the sound of a sick sissy, "that public relations must be for- bidden unless a cock-tail is seen as the means of transaction." Her face puffed up to renew the gruff- ness; "Darn dignified!" Brief laugh bringing posture of folded arms and high tits speaking streight off, "how about it mind at large; go to Hawaii for a wedd- ing, come back to camp and find L.A. sexless?" "I'm on my way out," Davenport Restated. "In, out; lots of switch for the witch. Which witch? She'll never smolder. See her dear steel rise. They are looking through glass. See us run. Where run? The cem- ents all free folks. Around and around with no bush or

Original Scan

Page 236

AI Interpretation

GPT

Jauqeline turns the whitewashing of the nude mural into a comic attack on public relations, respectability, and a city that distrusts unsold sensuality.

Her speech is satire, but its logic is sharp: the nude is acceptable only when attached to transaction, cocktail respectability, or advertising control. Davenport's restated escape line then folds that civic critique back into the page's restless motion.

Claude

The artist 'disembarked from her mosaical painting leaving the public to decide if a nude is justifiable when she has nothing to sell,' and as 'long stick mops reached for the last of the bosoms' Jauqeline performs a whole monologue in shifting voices. Her satire is exact: the 'advertising sensual slaughter house' deems nudes 'a hazzard when not bought and sold,' permitted only where 'a cock-tail is seen as the means of transaction' - the city made 'sexless' by commerce. Davenport's flat 'I'm on my way out' bends the critique back into the page's restless motion.