The Picnician Period.

February is the picnician period of the year, when man, the whirled forgetting by the whirled forgot, peels off the sartorial sanctions of synthetic sapience and offers his bare body as a burnt offering to old King Sol; when he rolls, romps and rambles in oneness with the worm, the wop and the wasp, and is of the earth earthy and the sand sandy.

There are many brands of picnic, but genially speaking, when two or more are gathered together round a basket, a billy, page 13

“A burnt offering.”

or a bag of bananas, it can be said that a picnic has been committed.

The harried “homo” formulates picnics as a form of revolt against the dehumanisation of civilisation, which otherwise would make him so perfect that he would find it impossible to live with himself. The picnic removes the tyranny of the cloying coat, the decadent “cady” and the stultifying stud. Once and again he dumps these dampening detriments of democracy and calls Beelzebub's bluff in the buff. He grapples with his “grub” with his bare hands, and in every possible way defies the dominance of Hurry and Scurry, the twin gods of the Go-getters.