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Damn Thing, v. 1, issue 5, May 1941

Page 3

THE DAMN THING                              PAGE THREE
__________________________________________
               THE EDITOR SITS ON HIS PLATFORM 
           "Beautiful Jade, and Cut Glass,
                  Budah's sitting on his Platform."

   Gather around, you abomnable bounders, and we will open this session of the Gas House. We have learned several points of function which will be transmitted to the reader. One is to never hang too closly around anyone who works in Hollywood. Two is to hell with a publication date! Trying to meet a deadline kills out one thing, and that is the mag that the deadline is for. Three, never buy [Paints?] Ale. It tastes like shoe polish.

   However, to elucidate on item one. This time the mag is being taken under the sheltering wing of Astra Publications. The guy that usta run the thing decided that he was working too hard, which we don't blame him. We only blame him because the Damn Thing was left in the lurch.

   And that brings up point two. We're glad he left the thing in the lurch. In fact, he should have left it in the salle-des-bannes where it was found. (Salle-des-banes in a French word which can be deciphered with any handy French-English Dictionary.) Anyway, Speer says he likes linguistics tossed around, so we decided to please him, the Schtup. (Salle-des-bannes means Badetzimmer in German, if that will help any.) (And Toileto Rumo in Low Esperanto.) Anyhow, there will be two factors that influence further issues of The Damn Thing. First, of course, is the matter of a sucker to perch apon for financing, and second is the matter of good material. Out with stupid "humour"! Fassbeinder, toss out all those stinkers we have been nurturing! Penguin, no more genteel and loquacious satires for the intelligentsia! Yes sir! The Damn Thing shall devote full time to tossing bombs and the like, and if enough bombs and money don't accumulate in six weeks, we will wait for eight weeks, or six months.

   Several things fill the issue that ought to be of interest. The item which will cause the most apoplexy in Shanri-La is the OPEN LETTER TO DAUGHERTY. There is a story back of this which I feel everyone ought to know. In the last issue, Daugherty published a criticism of Lowdnes' poetry in the second issue of Nepenthe, which will probably be revived as soon as we find out whether or not Singleton is really dead. In reply to Daugherty's article, John B. Michel sent a letter addressed as follows: Walter J. Daugherty, 1223 Gordon St., Hollywood, Calif. And the salutation was, I recall, "Dear Daugherty:". Also included on a separate sheet were remarks addressed to me. If one would wish to stretch to the epitome of technicality, the letter is outwradly meant for Daugherty, but: Michel knows Daugherty's address, and he sent the letter to my address with included remarks addressed to me. It is perfectly obvious that it is an "open" letter to Walt, intended for publication in The Damn Thing.

   Feeling that Daugherty would be interested in reading a rebuttal to his own opinion, I showed him the letter at an SFS meeting some weeks ago. He read it and said: "I don't want this published." I told him he knew it was an open letter, and what was the idea? "I just don't want it published," were his aproximate words, and as he had the letter in his hand, I never got it again.

   This, I should say, is the very poorest of sportsmanship. John B. Michel has sent me a copy of the letter, and it is published here. If Walt wishes to write anything in the magasine about the letter business (not the contents) the pages

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THE DAMN THING PAGE THREE __________________________________________ THE EDITOR SITS ON HIS PLATFORM "Beautiful Jade, and Cut Glass, Budah's sitting on his Platform." Gather around, you abomnable bounders, and we will open this session of the Gas House. We have learned several points of function which will be transmitted to the reader. One is to never hang too closly around anyone who works in Hollywood. Two is to hell with a publication date! Trying to meet a deadline kills out one thing, and that is the mag that the deadline is for. Three, never buy [Paints?] Ale. It tastes like shoe polish. However, to elucidate on item one. This time the mag is being taken under the sheltering wing of Astra Publications. The guy that usta run the thing decided that he was working too hard, which we don't blame him. We only blame him because the Damn Thing was left in the lurch. And that brings up point two. We're glad he left the thing in the lurch. In fact, he should have left it in the salle-des-bannes where it was found. (Salle-des-banes in a French word which can be deciphered with any handy French-English Dictionary.) Anyway, Speer says he likes linguistics tossed around, so we decided to please him, the Schtup. (Salle-des-bannes means Badetzimmer in German, if that will help any.) (And Toileto Rumo in Low Esperanto.) Anyhow, there will be two factors that influence further issues of The Damn Thing. First, of course, is the matter of a sucker to perch apon for financing, and second is the matter of good material. Out with stupid "humour"! Fassbeinder, toss out all those stinkers we have been nurturing! Penguin, no more genteel and loquacious satires for the intelligentsia! Yes sir! The Damn Thing shall devote full time to tossing bombs and the like, and if enough bombs and money don't accumulate in six weeks, we will wait for eight weeks, or six months. Several things fill the issue that ought to be of interest. The item which will cause the most apoplexy in Shanri-La is the OPEN LETTER TO DAUGHERTY. There is a story back of this which I feel everyone ought to know. In the last issue, Daugherty published a criticism of Lowdnes' poetry in the second issue of Nepenthe, which will probably be revived as soon as we find out whether or not Singleton is really dead. In reply to Daugherty's article, John B. Michel sent a letter addressed as follows: Walter J. Daugherty, 1223 Gordon St., Hollywood, Calif. And the salutation was, I recall, "Dear Daugherty:". Also included on a separate sheet were remarks addressed to me. If one would wish to stretch to the epitome of technicality, the letter is outwradly meant for Daugherty, but: Michel knows Daugherty's address, and he sent the letter to my address with included remarks addressed to me. It is perfectly obvious that it is an "open" letter to Walt, intended for publication in The Damn Thing. Feeling that Daugherty would be interested in reading a rebuttal to his own opinion, I showed him the letter at an SFS meeting some weeks ago. He read it and said: "I don't want this published." I told him he knew it was an open letter, and what was the idea? "I just don't want it published," were his aproximate words, and as he had the letter in his hand, I never got it again. This, I should say, is the very poorest of sportsmanship. John B. Michel has sent me a copy of the letter, and it is published here. If Walt wishes to write anything in the magasine about the letter business (not the contents) the pages