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Le Zombie, whole no. 63, July 1948
Page 9
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FABLE I found him on the beach at Toronto, staring sullenly out across the blue-gray waters of the lake and idly kicking sand with his foot. Without a doubt he is morose and furthermore sad. "Why, hello there, Bigfan," I say in some surprise. He glares at me. At length he says ungraciously, "H'lo." "Why are you down here at the beach staring sullenly out across the blue-gray waters of the lake, Bigfan? Why aren't you down at the convention hall, basking in the spotlight that is rightfully yours?" "Convention -- bah!" he sneers downwind. "That -- a convention?" "Well, Bigfan," I ask in wonder, "whatever do you mean?" He makes a dramatic gesture with his hand. "Those sissies think they are having a convention. What's happening?" "Well," I answer, "when I came past the door this morning enroute to breakfast after an all-night poker game in which I lost six bucks, they were preparing to have a convention." "Like clockwork, wasn't it?" he sneered upwind. "Sissie stuff! Only sissies hang around. It ain't like it was in the old days." "Aha, Bigfan," I ejaculate. "Now I know where you're aiming." "Precisely," he state in great diction. "Now when you and I was young -- they had conventions in them days! Did you see any exclusion acts up there? Did you see anybody get tossed out on the sidewalk or kicked out of a window? Did you see anybody call the cops because somebody else wouldn't leave? No." "It is sad, eh Bigfan?" "Fandom is shot," he assert with a crosswind sneer. "Fandom has gone to the dogs. Nothing exciting anymore. Nobody sends obscene Christmas cards these days; nobody sends spelling books to fanzine editors anymore, nobody advocates Doohickeyism these days, nobody throws delegates out on the sidewalk, I am disgusted." "Well, Bigfan, there may be something in what you say. But they have feuds..." "Bah!" he cuts me off. "Sissy feuds, revolving about some skirt. Remember the rough and tumble, six-shooter feuds we had in the old days? That was the stuff! Sissies now -- all a pack of sissies. I'm wasting my time up there." "Things was a bit tame," I admit to him. "I came down here for a breath of fresh air, myself. All they did today was talk...they're talking about something called nuclear physics -- over my head. Not like the good old days, eh Bigfan?" (9)
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FABLE I found him on the beach at Toronto, staring sullenly out across the blue-gray waters of the lake and idly kicking sand with his foot. Without a doubt he is morose and furthermore sad. "Why, hello there, Bigfan," I say in some surprise. He glares at me. At length he says ungraciously, "H'lo." "Why are you down here at the beach staring sullenly out across the blue-gray waters of the lake, Bigfan? Why aren't you down at the convention hall, basking in the spotlight that is rightfully yours?" "Convention -- bah!" he sneers downwind. "That -- a convention?" "Well, Bigfan," I ask in wonder, "whatever do you mean?" He makes a dramatic gesture with his hand. "Those sissies think they are having a convention. What's happening?" "Well," I answer, "when I came past the door this morning enroute to breakfast after an all-night poker game in which I lost six bucks, they were preparing to have a convention." "Like clockwork, wasn't it?" he sneered upwind. "Sissie stuff! Only sissies hang around. It ain't like it was in the old days." "Aha, Bigfan," I ejaculate. "Now I know where you're aiming." "Precisely," he state in great diction. "Now when you and I was young -- they had conventions in them days! Did you see any exclusion acts up there? Did you see anybody get tossed out on the sidewalk or kicked out of a window? Did you see anybody call the cops because somebody else wouldn't leave? No." "It is sad, eh Bigfan?" "Fandom is shot," he assert with a crosswind sneer. "Fandom has gone to the dogs. Nothing exciting anymore. Nobody sends obscene Christmas cards these days; nobody sends spelling books to fanzine editors anymore, nobody advocates Doohickeyism these days, nobody throws delegates out on the sidewalk, I am disgusted." "Well, Bigfan, there may be something in what you say. But they have feuds..." "Bah!" he cuts me off. "Sissy feuds, revolving about some skirt. Remember the rough and tumble, six-shooter feuds we had in the old days? That was the stuff! Sissies now -- all a pack of sissies. I'm wasting my time up there." "Things was a bit tame," I admit to him. "I came down here for a breath of fresh air, myself. All they did today was talk...they're talking about something called nuclear physics -- over my head. Not like the good old days, eh Bigfan?" (9)
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