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Southern Star, v. 1, issue 4, December 1941
Page 17
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"Mumblings" BY, OF COURSE, THE [[underline]]Mumbler[[end underline]]! [[crossed out]] by the MUMBLER [[text to the left of "by the mumbler"]]Redundant[[end text]] Whether fans be supermen or superidiots they still prove themselves to be annoyingly human every so often. One of the most humanest human traits we know is the act or acts leading to acute embarrassment on the part of innocent bystanders as well as the fan involved. Please note that it is extremely hard to embarrass a group of fans in any such manner, providing all present are fans. But let an "outside" adult into the circle and the mental conditions change instantly. The striking horrible example I have in mind is known in my private files as The Case of Marconette Tablecloth. And it happened thusly: In early November, 1939, my wife and I, plus Reinsberg and Meyer of Chicago were stopping overnight at Walt Marconettes place in Dayton, O. We had been to Philly to see the Conference. Well, after dinner that evening we were sitting around the house engaged in various pursuits. Marconette was showing Reinsberg how to remove short stories from [[underline]]Argosy[[end underline]] for binding and filing. Reinsberg was wielding a wicked-looking pair of shears. I was sitting just across the table going thru some unpublished articles. The rest should be easy for you, all the clues having been provided. There was a gasp, a wounded cry, a half-torn word . . . and a neatly scissored tablecloth. I beg to report the cloth in mention was not a dime store flash, but something that had come down from the grandmother of the family. I caught a glimpse of Reinsberg, staring at the instrument of torture in his hands, unable to believe what he had done; of Mrs. Marconette trying bravely [[underline]]not[[end underline]] to appear ill...and about that time I decided to become embarrassed, too. I don't know why, I just did. [[underline]]It is odd, odd but true, in that what is Virginia smoked ham to one fan is but vile hamburger to another. (Oh, pardon me, Mr. Chauvenet, I didn't see you sitting there![[end underline]]) At any rate, that is better than the tried and trite oldie about meat and poison. Which leads to this: Every now and then in some fanzine particularly those published by or
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"Mumblings" BY, OF COURSE, THE [[underline]]Mumbler[[end underline]]! [[crossed out]] by the MUMBLER [[text to the left of "by the mumbler"]]Redundant[[end text]] Whether fans be supermen or superidiots they still prove themselves to be annoyingly human every so often. One of the most humanest human traits we know is the act or acts leading to acute embarrassment on the part of innocent bystanders as well as the fan involved. Please note that it is extremely hard to embarrass a group of fans in any such manner, providing all present are fans. But let an "outside" adult into the circle and the mental conditions change instantly. The striking horrible example I have in mind is known in my private files as The Case of Marconette Tablecloth. And it happened thusly: In early November, 1939, my wife and I, plus Reinsberg and Meyer of Chicago were stopping overnight at Walt Marconettes place in Dayton, O. We had been to Philly to see the Conference. Well, after dinner that evening we were sitting around the house engaged in various pursuits. Marconette was showing Reinsberg how to remove short stories from [[underline]]Argosy[[end underline]] for binding and filing. Reinsberg was wielding a wicked-looking pair of shears. I was sitting just across the table going thru some unpublished articles. The rest should be easy for you, all the clues having been provided. There was a gasp, a wounded cry, a half-torn word . . . and a neatly scissored tablecloth. I beg to report the cloth in mention was not a dime store flash, but something that had come down from the grandmother of the family. I caught a glimpse of Reinsberg, staring at the instrument of torture in his hands, unable to believe what he had done; of Mrs. Marconette trying bravely [[underline]]not[[end underline]] to appear ill...and about that time I decided to become embarrassed, too. I don't know why, I just did. [[underline]]It is odd, odd but true, in that what is Virginia smoked ham to one fan is but vile hamburger to another. (Oh, pardon me, Mr. Chauvenet, I didn't see you sitting there![[end underline]]) At any rate, that is better than the tried and trite oldie about meat and poison. Which leads to this: Every now and then in some fanzine particularly those published by or
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