Word: utopias
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...attractive, but non-political, circle of his-beens? He does seem quite impressed with being assistant-president, so impressed even that he may soon find himself in a satin-lined ash can. Other trial balloons have soared gracefully over the capital before but treacherous currents usually carry them to Utopia, and strange as it may seem, their maker at the time. So we have given up gazing at these colored balls and their tinsel instigators, and wait for the word of our President who is well-intentioned even if circumstances make him sometimes an inaccurate sage...
...were Chester A. Arthur Jr.,* 33-year-old grandson of the 21st President of the U. S., and Dunham Thorp, onetime editor of a literary magazine in California. All three had taken up residence in Greenwich Village with a small table, some wicker chairs, a few cots. Thus did Utopia move East. Three years ago Mr. Reed left his brokerage business in Denver and went to the Pacific Coast where last winter he founded the Utopian Society. His Utopia was virtually what Edward Bellamy had described.† but he went about gaining proselytes in a different way. A Blue Lodge...
...going to get any place until we get rid of all those damn bureaucrats, hobocrats, autocrats and all those other crats up there in Washington. . . . Oh, it'll take us five or six years, I reckon, but we'll set up a real Utopia in this State. We've got to run our own business and not have any of those dam fol-de-rols that's going on up there...
...lurid Russian figure waving a red flag over California. Another was an appeal by a non-existent "Citizens' Co-operative Relief Committee" for donations of clothing, food, room space and money for the 1,500,000 new citizens expected to arrive in the State because of the Sinclair Utopia. A fake "Young People's Communist League" leaflet bore the party hammer-&- sickle and an endorsement of Sinclair. In preparation, said Sinclair headquarters, were 1,000,000 pamphlets alleging that Upton Sinclair had once tried to take out Russian citizenship papers in Moscow...
...three days later I was driven back to Englewood to attend, on crutches, the sessions of the coroner's jury. So I learned what the outside world had been thinking about our little Utopia. They not only thought it a 'free love nest,' but the village horse-doctor on the jury thought we had set fire to it ourselves, to get the insurance. Also, and worse yet, they thought we had arranged our affairs in such a way that we could beat the local tradesmen out of the money we owed them. It was a matter...