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Voice of the Imagination, whole no. 11, January 1941
Page 6
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and, I suspect, fan aristocracy too. "Thanks muchly for the various VoM's which I have rapturously received at odd times in the past. Also for the one you sent to Don Cameron. He was extremely pleased with it, and said he would acknowledge it eventually. Like myself, he is hopelessly slothful & incurably lazy, and his conceptions of 'time' are equally liberal, so you probably won't have heard from him yet. I'll stir him up a bit before he hibernates for the winter. "Unique and delightful was the 'Monsters of the Moon' booklet which you LASFL-er's have concocted. As amazing and unexpected as the 'Stickers' pamphet published earlier. The lithographing (is it lithography? (yes) is extremely well done -- as are the 'shots' depicted. How I would have loved to attend the Chicon. My astral body was there -- did you notice a wavering wraith that followed Bob Tucker around for protection - no - not Pong - - the wraith was Pong & Tucker. That was me. (What do U mean, wraith? Who do U think U are, McIlwraith? That was me following Bob around at the Chicon. & I deny I ever waverd" --Morojo) But as it is still in a debauched condition of alcoholic poisoning, I haven't been able to get an account out of it yet. Astral bodies are unbelievably sensitive to alcohol. Mine has only to sniff the barman's apron to start screamin gwith inebriated mirthfulness." 9 Oct 40, 1730 P NW, Wn/DC: "VOICE OF THE IMAINATION: So Milty (Rothman) sits at the lovely Underwood at the office, writing a letter to Stimme der Einbildung, twenty minutes before works starts, after having arrived early in order to study his psychology notes, and after having torn up three of four such letters in the past two days, letters written because a kid with a marvelous gift for writing is being nounced upon by a bunch of guys for being like Milty was not long ago. No, Milty spent more time reading Wonder Stories and Amazing Stories than he did reading Shakespeare, but he has read a little Dos Passos and Saroyan and Anderson, and his guts ache with the urge to be able to write with that sort or words. " Is this kid being jumped just because he can use words like none of the others can? No. Because his sense of values and standards, and he reads so many books that are really good that he gets all tied up in a knot inside wishing that science fiction would let go of the Bolony and become so really good, and it has the stuff to be better than anything else, but it won't, because the people who can really write would rather write about people who are living now, like the man who works in a steel mill or a shirt factory or the man who doesn't work or the boy who walks the streets wishing he could work, people who are living now rather than people who might live. " So the kid has a gripe because science fiction ain't good literature, and he doesn't fail to say so, didn't Milty say so, too, so he gets lashed back at, and they don't see that he thinks so furiously and intensely that he doesn't dare say everything that he really thinks, so he compensates by being very clever and funny. "" And then it was time to work, and Milty left the last page unfinished, and it was probably just as well, because he found that he was merely being sorry for himself by being sorry for Alan Roberts. (This letter is very liable to lead Art Widner to conclude U are Alan: U realize that, don't U? The we co-eds noe difrently..) Milty spends entirely too much time being sorry." Skip to: "Since science fiction is supposed to be prophecy, we are interested in knowing just how good it is at prophecying. To do this, the literature must be treated statistically, and to do that, it must be condensed into a form from which it would be an easy matter to make comparisons between what was prophecied and what happened. In other words, a history of the future as written in science fiction must be compiled. This is a tremendous task. It took 72 pages to list merely the tables of contents of every magazine. How many pages would it take to list the form of civilization, and the events that happen to civilization in every science fiction story that has told of such matters? " One person cannot do it. The task must be divided up between many fans, each of whom would take a section of science-fiction magazines, compile the date, send them to a central editor, who would arrange them in the order of the historic dates of the events in the stories, and send out the material, in chronologic sections, to the
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and, I suspect, fan aristocracy too. "Thanks muchly for the various VoM's which I have rapturously received at odd times in the past. Also for the one you sent to Don Cameron. He was extremely pleased with it, and said he would acknowledge it eventually. Like myself, he is hopelessly slothful & incurably lazy, and his conceptions of 'time' are equally liberal, so you probably won't have heard from him yet. I'll stir him up a bit before he hibernates for the winter. "Unique and delightful was the 'Monsters of the Moon' booklet which you LASFL-er's have concocted. As amazing and unexpected as the 'Stickers' pamphet published earlier. The lithographing (is it lithography? (yes) is extremely well done -- as are the 'shots' depicted. How I would have loved to attend the Chicon. My astral body was there -- did you notice a wavering wraith that followed Bob Tucker around for protection - no - not Pong - - the wraith was Pong & Tucker. That was me. (What do U mean, wraith? Who do U think U are, McIlwraith? That was me following Bob around at the Chicon. & I deny I ever waverd" --Morojo) But as it is still in a debauched condition of alcoholic poisoning, I haven't been able to get an account out of it yet. Astral bodies are unbelievably sensitive to alcohol. Mine has only to sniff the barman's apron to start screamin gwith inebriated mirthfulness." 9 Oct 40, 1730 P NW, Wn/DC: "VOICE OF THE IMAINATION: So Milty (Rothman) sits at the lovely Underwood at the office, writing a letter to Stimme der Einbildung, twenty minutes before works starts, after having arrived early in order to study his psychology notes, and after having torn up three of four such letters in the past two days, letters written because a kid with a marvelous gift for writing is being nounced upon by a bunch of guys for being like Milty was not long ago. No, Milty spent more time reading Wonder Stories and Amazing Stories than he did reading Shakespeare, but he has read a little Dos Passos and Saroyan and Anderson, and his guts ache with the urge to be able to write with that sort or words. " Is this kid being jumped just because he can use words like none of the others can? No. Because his sense of values and standards, and he reads so many books that are really good that he gets all tied up in a knot inside wishing that science fiction would let go of the Bolony and become so really good, and it has the stuff to be better than anything else, but it won't, because the people who can really write would rather write about people who are living now, like the man who works in a steel mill or a shirt factory or the man who doesn't work or the boy who walks the streets wishing he could work, people who are living now rather than people who might live. " So the kid has a gripe because science fiction ain't good literature, and he doesn't fail to say so, didn't Milty say so, too, so he gets lashed back at, and they don't see that he thinks so furiously and intensely that he doesn't dare say everything that he really thinks, so he compensates by being very clever and funny. "" And then it was time to work, and Milty left the last page unfinished, and it was probably just as well, because he found that he was merely being sorry for himself by being sorry for Alan Roberts. (This letter is very liable to lead Art Widner to conclude U are Alan: U realize that, don't U? The we co-eds noe difrently..) Milty spends entirely too much time being sorry." Skip to: "Since science fiction is supposed to be prophecy, we are interested in knowing just how good it is at prophecying. To do this, the literature must be treated statistically, and to do that, it must be condensed into a form from which it would be an easy matter to make comparisons between what was prophecied and what happened. In other words, a history of the future as written in science fiction must be compiled. This is a tremendous task. It took 72 pages to list merely the tables of contents of every magazine. How many pages would it take to list the form of civilization, and the events that happen to civilization in every science fiction story that has told of such matters? " One person cannot do it. The task must be divided up between many fans, each of whom would take a section of science-fiction magazines, compile the date, send them to a central editor, who would arrange them in the order of the historic dates of the events in the stories, and send out the material, in chronologic sections, to the
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