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The Alchemist, v. 1, issue 5, February 1941
Page 20
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20 ----- ALCHEMIST ----- I AM POSITIVELY NOT ROBERT BLOCH! Ray Douglas Bradbury Introduction Born in the small town of Waukegan, no relation to Jack Benny, little has been known, up to now, about that effervescent author and sadistic sapperoo who grew up in the wilderness of a haunted bookstall. Now two hundred and fifty years old, Bradbury is no mans fool but his own. To give you Bradbury and his twin, a double interview about a triple profiled monstrosity who is two faced. Part your beard and speak Brad . . . . . .Editor An evil rumor has been permeating the atmopshere recently as to whether I am Bob Bloch or just plain me! I don't know whether to feel flattered or go off to the South Pole and try to erase the memory from my thoughts. I've been mistaken for T.C. Fields, Baby Leroy, Flash Gordon and a few other celebrities in my time, but never an author (until recently). Perhaps it is our initials that has caused confustion. Both of the letters of our names are R. B. (so what?) Upon hearing this news about me and my dear Holler-Bloch-en I crept up to a mirror and interviewed myself. "Hey there, kid!" I exclaimed. "Are you Robert Bloch, the science-fiction jokester and weirdest?" I remained sullenly silent. I could have killed me for that! "So you won't talk, eh?" I began. "Well, you
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20 ----- ALCHEMIST ----- I AM POSITIVELY NOT ROBERT BLOCH! Ray Douglas Bradbury Introduction Born in the small town of Waukegan, no relation to Jack Benny, little has been known, up to now, about that effervescent author and sadistic sapperoo who grew up in the wilderness of a haunted bookstall. Now two hundred and fifty years old, Bradbury is no mans fool but his own. To give you Bradbury and his twin, a double interview about a triple profiled monstrosity who is two faced. Part your beard and speak Brad . . . . . .Editor An evil rumor has been permeating the atmopshere recently as to whether I am Bob Bloch or just plain me! I don't know whether to feel flattered or go off to the South Pole and try to erase the memory from my thoughts. I've been mistaken for T.C. Fields, Baby Leroy, Flash Gordon and a few other celebrities in my time, but never an author (until recently). Perhaps it is our initials that has caused confustion. Both of the letters of our names are R. B. (so what?) Upon hearing this news about me and my dear Holler-Bloch-en I crept up to a mirror and interviewed myself. "Hey there, kid!" I exclaimed. "Are you Robert Bloch, the science-fiction jokester and weirdest?" I remained sullenly silent. I could have killed me for that! "So you won't talk, eh?" I began. "Well, you
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