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Damn Thing, v. 1, issue 5, May 1941
Page 10
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PAGE TEN THE DAMN THING _________________________________________ (Editorial Note: Herewith presented is an open letter to Walt Daugherty by John B. Michel. The first letter sent was addressed to Daugherty, so Walter seized apon the technical point that it was in his name and said not to publish it. This is exceedinly poor sportsmanship on the part of Daugherty who refused to let someone criticise him in more than a finger-shaking tone. The editor makes his position in the Lowdnes Poetry matter as this: Personally, the editor got a good kick out of the poems, but wouldn't want to see his name stuck on such stuff. If "Doc" wants to, 'tis his privilage. I frankly admit I laughed & laft. ................................................................................... Dear Yerke: - If I were to write a letter to Daugherty, this is what I would write: - I am writing this letter only because I am absolutly sure that the shade of poor Singleton is hovouring beside me, patting me on the shoulder affectionatly and approvingly. If he thinks the same as I do of your article in The Damn Thing, he'll make your nights ghastly from now on. Among the nastiest things in the world are mealy-mouthed purists who speak ex-cathedra to the "ignorant masses". Science fiction has had its share of them, Speer, Miske, and the like. Without exception they were joyless people who saw fun in investigating the conection between Sanskrit and Pushtu than in spending an evening out with the boys and girls. (Ed. Note: In all fairness I must inform Mr. Michel that Daugherty is the life of the party at any party that Bradbury is not at.) Such an attitude is creditable at times, but all work and no play make the various Jacks very, very dull boys. All of them spoke, when confronted with such stuff as you object to, in the shrillest of holy tones of indignation, spouting furiously that the good name of science-fiction had been dragged in the mud and that the field itself faces destruction. None of them were at anytime correct. The presence of what was to them objectionable matter never had the influence of a flea's kick on an elephant's rear and in fandom. I have met them all. I predicted, privatly, before such meetings, that they would turn out to be as dry and cheerless as the sweat on a miser's jowl. They were. (Ed. Note: Daugherty doesn't fit in this spot. He IS entertaining.) In some mysterious fashion, this "degrading" influence is supposed to harm the little darlings just graduated from reform school and horrify their parents, should they be lucky enough to glimpse the red hot stuff. The history of science fiction, in any case, I would like to remind you, has been a conflict of intelligent and sensitive rebels with stupid, blundering parents who understood their offspring about as much as the Man in the Moon understands the ups and downs of the Stock Market. Never,except in one case, has any fan worth his salt, been forced out of fandom by punitive action on the part of those higher up. The field can do without the others. As entertainement they're worse duds than German bombs manufactured in Czechoslovakia, and a drag on fandom to boot. In addition, I have never met one of these innocent little varmits without being knocked flat by their interest in sex and their intimate knowledge of the subject. It would be ridiculous to claim that they picked up this gutter stuff
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PAGE TEN THE DAMN THING _________________________________________ (Editorial Note: Herewith presented is an open letter to Walt Daugherty by John B. Michel. The first letter sent was addressed to Daugherty, so Walter seized apon the technical point that it was in his name and said not to publish it. This is exceedinly poor sportsmanship on the part of Daugherty who refused to let someone criticise him in more than a finger-shaking tone. The editor makes his position in the Lowdnes Poetry matter as this: Personally, the editor got a good kick out of the poems, but wouldn't want to see his name stuck on such stuff. If "Doc" wants to, 'tis his privilage. I frankly admit I laughed & laft. ................................................................................... Dear Yerke: - If I were to write a letter to Daugherty, this is what I would write: - I am writing this letter only because I am absolutly sure that the shade of poor Singleton is hovouring beside me, patting me on the shoulder affectionatly and approvingly. If he thinks the same as I do of your article in The Damn Thing, he'll make your nights ghastly from now on. Among the nastiest things in the world are mealy-mouthed purists who speak ex-cathedra to the "ignorant masses". Science fiction has had its share of them, Speer, Miske, and the like. Without exception they were joyless people who saw fun in investigating the conection between Sanskrit and Pushtu than in spending an evening out with the boys and girls. (Ed. Note: In all fairness I must inform Mr. Michel that Daugherty is the life of the party at any party that Bradbury is not at.) Such an attitude is creditable at times, but all work and no play make the various Jacks very, very dull boys. All of them spoke, when confronted with such stuff as you object to, in the shrillest of holy tones of indignation, spouting furiously that the good name of science-fiction had been dragged in the mud and that the field itself faces destruction. None of them were at anytime correct. The presence of what was to them objectionable matter never had the influence of a flea's kick on an elephant's rear and in fandom. I have met them all. I predicted, privatly, before such meetings, that they would turn out to be as dry and cheerless as the sweat on a miser's jowl. They were. (Ed. Note: Daugherty doesn't fit in this spot. He IS entertaining.) In some mysterious fashion, this "degrading" influence is supposed to harm the little darlings just graduated from reform school and horrify their parents, should they be lucky enough to glimpse the red hot stuff. The history of science fiction, in any case, I would like to remind you, has been a conflict of intelligent and sensitive rebels with stupid, blundering parents who understood their offspring about as much as the Man in the Moon understands the ups and downs of the Stock Market. Never,except in one case, has any fan worth his salt, been forced out of fandom by punitive action on the part of those higher up. The field can do without the others. As entertainement they're worse duds than German bombs manufactured in Czechoslovakia, and a drag on fandom to boot. In addition, I have never met one of these innocent little varmits without being knocked flat by their interest in sex and their intimate knowledge of the subject. It would be ridiculous to claim that they picked up this gutter stuff
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