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Fanfare, whole no. 10, December 1943
Page 34
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34 goose. He's written a war that can never end - but there are the ones who will furnish the armies for it. He pointed. Far below, at the very edge of the plain, Alicia made out a moving blur. She wheeled to Rap. He was sitting before a huge machine, deftly spinning its numberd dials. A shaft of lite stabbed out into space, bent, & struck down on that moving blur. & now, under its magnifying influence, she could see that it was composed of millions on millions of wild-haired men & crop-haired women, crouching with crazy eyes & flying fingers before enormous typewriters. Paper flew like chaff from their keys, & swirled & eddied above them in a white mist of jumbled genius, to fall in combing drifts behind them as they passed. & as it touched the ground, that vapor clotted into the forms of living things, two colossal, streaming rivers of them, crystalizing into sextettes & pouring out into the warring armies of Timme's vastest battle. Alicia shuddered. At heart she was really a peacabl person. All this endless geometry got on her nerves. It wasn't as if people were being killed - or even mangled. That was reasonable. That was war. But this ballet of immortal, invulnerable, interminable, idiotic..... It must stop! She screamed, shrill & loud above the din of the conflict. She stiffened her arm, pointing accusingly at that ebon phantom in the heavens, her hair bristling with indignation. "Stop it!" she shrieked. "Stop it! He's doing this! He's to blame! Oh, can't you see? He--he is the Octopus!" A deathly stillness fell on the world. The sextettes broke. Villain & here alike turned to face her. Then she heard Rap's startled shout & she was seized by both arms & jerked back into metallic smelling darkness. "--truthawholetruthabbuthinbuttatruthsowelpyagawd!" Alicia's eyes popped open. She stared at a waggling Floyd Gibbonish jaw. She stared at a sea of empty faces, topped with things like chicken-wire derbies. She had one on her own head, & that outlandish gibberish was still ringing in the back of her brain. "Contempt of court," snapped an acid voice just north of her medulla oblongata. "Thirty days."
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34 goose. He's written a war that can never end - but there are the ones who will furnish the armies for it. He pointed. Far below, at the very edge of the plain, Alicia made out a moving blur. She wheeled to Rap. He was sitting before a huge machine, deftly spinning its numberd dials. A shaft of lite stabbed out into space, bent, & struck down on that moving blur. & now, under its magnifying influence, she could see that it was composed of millions on millions of wild-haired men & crop-haired women, crouching with crazy eyes & flying fingers before enormous typewriters. Paper flew like chaff from their keys, & swirled & eddied above them in a white mist of jumbled genius, to fall in combing drifts behind them as they passed. & as it touched the ground, that vapor clotted into the forms of living things, two colossal, streaming rivers of them, crystalizing into sextettes & pouring out into the warring armies of Timme's vastest battle. Alicia shuddered. At heart she was really a peacabl person. All this endless geometry got on her nerves. It wasn't as if people were being killed - or even mangled. That was reasonable. That was war. But this ballet of immortal, invulnerable, interminable, idiotic..... It must stop! She screamed, shrill & loud above the din of the conflict. She stiffened her arm, pointing accusingly at that ebon phantom in the heavens, her hair bristling with indignation. "Stop it!" she shrieked. "Stop it! He's doing this! He's to blame! Oh, can't you see? He--he is the Octopus!" A deathly stillness fell on the world. The sextettes broke. Villain & here alike turned to face her. Then she heard Rap's startled shout & she was seized by both arms & jerked back into metallic smelling darkness. "--truthawholetruthabbuthinbuttatruthsowelpyagawd!" Alicia's eyes popped open. She stared at a waggling Floyd Gibbonish jaw. She stared at a sea of empty faces, topped with things like chicken-wire derbies. She had one on her own head, & that outlandish gibberish was still ringing in the back of her brain. "Contempt of court," snapped an acid voice just north of her medulla oblongata. "Thirty days."
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