Transcribe
Translate
Variant, v. 1, issue 3, September 1947
Page 15
More information
digital collection
archival collection guide
transcription tips
Albert Pepper thought the disks, "Some sort of airships someone has invented and shipped around the country. It's peculiar none of them have landed; they're probably radio controlled.**** If they were sent by some foreign power, they would have some sort of explosives attached." Jack Agnew said, "It's a weapon that they are trying to keep secret but that got out of control. 'They' evidently being indigenous." .On consideration he declared it most probably that it was some sort of diffusing apparatus for radar. Alexander M. Phillips commented, "According to Charles Fort, such things have been seen, not once, but many times. I'm waiting to see if it dies down and nothing more is heard of it--according to Fort the normal course of events." The shade of the great iconoclast was also invoked by James A. Williams,who said, "I have absolutely no opinion, except that these reports are recurrant and must have some basis. The records will show that this is nothing new. This will go to the limbo of forgotton mysteries as quickly as the others." (Editors note: It would seem that it has.) * * Five Inch Filler Confessions of an Assistant Editor OR Corn Redistilled The VARIANT staff was full of gin, Smith wasn't there, but we let Ozzie in. The dry sherry flowed, but grim Allison Put wool in her ears, and Vari-typed on. The Multilith, growing spltting mad, Made papers fly, and we grew sad--- The gin ran out, and after ink----- Sherry seemed stupid stuff to drink--- Then Abby took up her sturdy broom And pummelled the rest of us out of the room. "I'll get it done for the Philcon today--" We heard her shokt as we staggered away. Come morning, we found her, asleep on the floor In her hand carbon-ribbon; it led out the door, To mark the place where the V-typer flew--- For she tossed it out, to show she was through. And there on the desk, in orderly piles The last of the VARIANT, so, with kind smiles We let her sleep--The Philcon could start. We went to that, and so broke her heart. Helen E. Cloukey (Editor's Note: This poem is strictly fictitious, and all characters herein are not to be confused with any persons living or dead-drunk.) (15)
Saving...
prev
next
Albert Pepper thought the disks, "Some sort of airships someone has invented and shipped around the country. It's peculiar none of them have landed; they're probably radio controlled.**** If they were sent by some foreign power, they would have some sort of explosives attached." Jack Agnew said, "It's a weapon that they are trying to keep secret but that got out of control. 'They' evidently being indigenous." .On consideration he declared it most probably that it was some sort of diffusing apparatus for radar. Alexander M. Phillips commented, "According to Charles Fort, such things have been seen, not once, but many times. I'm waiting to see if it dies down and nothing more is heard of it--according to Fort the normal course of events." The shade of the great iconoclast was also invoked by James A. Williams,who said, "I have absolutely no opinion, except that these reports are recurrant and must have some basis. The records will show that this is nothing new. This will go to the limbo of forgotton mysteries as quickly as the others." (Editors note: It would seem that it has.) * * Five Inch Filler Confessions of an Assistant Editor OR Corn Redistilled The VARIANT staff was full of gin, Smith wasn't there, but we let Ozzie in. The dry sherry flowed, but grim Allison Put wool in her ears, and Vari-typed on. The Multilith, growing spltting mad, Made papers fly, and we grew sad--- The gin ran out, and after ink----- Sherry seemed stupid stuff to drink--- Then Abby took up her sturdy broom And pummelled the rest of us out of the room. "I'll get it done for the Philcon today--" We heard her shokt as we staggered away. Come morning, we found her, asleep on the floor In her hand carbon-ribbon; it led out the door, To mark the place where the V-typer flew--- For she tossed it out, to show she was through. And there on the desk, in orderly piles The last of the VARIANT, so, with kind smiles We let her sleep--The Philcon could start. We went to that, and so broke her heart. Helen E. Cloukey (Editor's Note: This poem is strictly fictitious, and all characters herein are not to be confused with any persons living or dead-drunk.) (15)
Hevelin Fanzines
sidebar