The End of a Primitive Read Free Page B

drooped. She’d never had to wear a brassiere; it was one of her great prides. Her slips sufficed to hold her full firm breasts somewhat steady, which was all that was necessary.
    She selected a red dress from the two racks of dresses in the closet, one third of which were red. She liked herself in red; it went with her fair skin, blue eyes and tawny hair. Besides which, it made her feel daring. She couldn’t get along in the world without feeling daring.
    From alongside a bottle of red and yellow capsules of barbiturates in her medicine cabinet, she took down a bottle of bluish-gray tablets, a patented drug relatively new on the market. They were made from a combination of dexedrine and amylobarbitone, and the directions on the label stated: “Indicated in states of mental and emotional distress”. The first time she had read that statement she had told herself, “That’s me. That’s me all the time.” Now, after swallowing one with a little water, she shook a couple of dozen into a lacquered snuffbox to take to the office; her store there had run out.
    Then, bringing her toast and coffee, she sat on a stool at the end of the table so she could see the television, ate one half of a piece of toast and drank two cups of coffee sweetened with saccharine tablets. On the television screen, Gloucester was interviewing the chimpanzee.
    “Who do you think will get the Republican nomination for President?” he asked.
    “Five-star General of the Army, Dwight D. Eisenhower, will be nominated on the first ballot,” the chimpanzee promptly replied.
    “And are you sure it won’t be Senator Taft?” Gloucester, who was a loyal Taft supporter, prompted the chimp.
    “No, not even for Vice President,” the chimpanzee asserted positively. “All Bob Taft will get will be a big hug from Eisenhower when the General rushes across the street directly following his nomination to congratulate Taft on losing and calling for party unity. Senator Richard M. Nixon of California will be nominated for Vice President, and on September 28, 1952, he will go on television—the same as you and I—defend a political fund placed at his disposal by innocent and patriotic businessmen of California, most of whom have somehow become involved in the real estate business and are hamstrung in their desire to invest in low rental properties by the Democratic administration’s rent control program which, paradoxically, precipitates high rent. Mr Nixon will also bare his financial status to the complete satisfaction of the Republicans and the complete dissatisfaction of the Democrats, after which he will hasten to the special campaign train of Republican presidential nominee General of the Army, Eisenhower, to pose for a news-reel parody of the Jerry Lewis-Dean Martin comedy. That’s My Boy.
    “What do you think of General Eisenhower’s chances of being elected?” Gloucester asked condescendingly.
    “On November 4, 1952, Republican nominee for President, five-star General of the Army, Dwight D. Eisenhower, will be elected President of the United States by an overwhelming landslide of 442 electoral votes and a popular vote of 33, 938, 285, the largest popular vote in the history of your Republic, thereby giving Senator McCarthy a mandate to rid the nation of its mentality,” the chimpanzee stated with extreme boredom. After all, this would bear no effect on chimpanzees—chimpanzees didn’t think. “Does that answer your questions?” he asked shortly, anxious to collect payment for his appearance.
    Kriss stared at the chimpanzee in horror. “How can it say such things—and Roosevelt dead but seven years!” she thought indignantly.
    The pill worked rapidly on an empty stomach. The tremendous physical stimulation provided by the five milligrams of dexedrine was levelled off at peak efficiency by the counter-opiate of thirty-two milligrams of amylobarbitone, holding the brain, which had been sharpened and alerted to almost supernatural brilliancy