Indian actress, from Film India (the 1930s Indian version of Entertainment Weekly) in 1933.
Reporter: “Are Africans fundamentally more violent than the rest of the world?”
Ouologuem: “I would like to think that Africa excels in everything. But, unfortunately, after the Hundred Years War, Stalin, the Inquisition, Hiroshima, Nagasaki, et cetera, I am afraid that we poor Blacks, we underdeveloped Africans, lag behind the rest of the world.”
…an 1894 story describing how the Simian races conquered the Earth and “several other solar systems”?
If so, here you go.
Because sometimes you get The Good Stuff:
On April 20, 1532, on a night as soft as a cloak of moist satin, Saif al-Haram, performing his conjugal “duty” with his four step-mothersseriatimand all together, had the imprudent weakness to overindulge and in the very midst of his dutiful delights gave up the ghost…the next day his raven-eyed minister Al Hadj Abd al-Hassana, having established a stripling boy and Hawa, the most beautiful of Saif’s stepmothers in his bed, was stung by an asp which he was caressing in the belief that he was holding something else, opened his mouth three times and died…his successor was Holongo, “a horrible biped with the brutal expression of a buffalo,” humped in front and in back; after a reign of two years, moaning in enviable torment, he died in the arms of a courtesan, Aiosha, who strangled him as he was crying out in ecstasy. His successor was Saif Ali, a pederast with pious airs, as vicious as a red donkey, who succumbed six months later to the sin of gluttony, leaving the crowning to Saif Jibril, Ali’s younger brother, who, slain by the sin of indiscretion, was replaced by Saif Yussufi, one of the sons of Ramina (mother of Sair Hal-Haram, got with child by her son at the cost of a great effort). An albino notorious for his ugliness, he was twice felled by one of his wife’s admirers; the third time—at last!—much to his amazement, he was carried off by an ill wind, ceding his place to Saif Medioni of Mostanagem, who was recalled to God ten days later, torn to pieces, so it is said, by the contrary angels of Mercy and Justice.
Sample dialogue of the Golden Age Dr. Doom.
From Emily Chao’s “The Maoist Shaman and the Madman: Ritual Bricolage, Failed Ritual, and Failed Ritual Theory:”
On a cool summer afternoon, a shaman arrived at a dusty mud-brick Naxi village to cure a resident who had gone mad. During the ritual that followed, the shaman called on Chairman Mao, Zhou Enlai, and Deng Xiaoping to assist her in driving out demons while she instructed the madman to brace up, learn from Lei Feng, and work for the greater good of the country. The shaman chanted, “The madman is one of the wretched masses. Arise if you don’t want to be enslaved! Let our flesh and blood build the next Great Wall.” The shaman incorporated political slogans and phrases from the Chinese national anthem into her ritual incantations. She wore a shoulder bag affixed with a Red Guard armband and marched around the madman’s courtyard as if she were going into battle. The shaman bowed to the gods and burned incense, but she also invoked the “gods” and the experiences of the Chinese revolution—all in an attempt to save the madman…during the ritual, the shaman’s conjurings created a site for the reinscription of ritual meaning and the opening of new contingencies and ambivalences. But the village audience immediately debated the merits of the ritual and ultimately assessed it to be a failure.
How comic books in 1941 saw the libraries of the year 2000.