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Scienti Snaps, v. 1, issue 2, Spring 1938
Page 10
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10 Page SCIENTI-SNAPS doubtedly the most conspicuous. Usually a [person?] with a well developed inferiority complex who attempts to build up his ego by reeling meaningless literary blasts at persons who never even knew he existed, across the roller of his typewriter. Making mountains out of molehills is his speciality. give him a good arguement and he's in his seventh heaven. That is as long as he can wend his arguements from the more or less indirect method of the printed page. Should this person attempt physical argument, in most cases they would be more or less ineffectual. However, the danger of this person is making fine fans disgusted with science fiction when they view him as a typical example. And of course it would be blasphemy to disregard the literary lions. These bravados stride colossus like across the field, reveling in their independence. Turning out fiction articles, discourses, biographies, verse, departments and what nots by the ream. Basking in the fact that the fan mags couldn't get along without them, but blissfully disregarding a still more important fact that they, prize suckers, are working their fool heads off for the very dubious pleasure of having a group of irresponsibles take the editor to heart when he suggests literary criticism, breaking many a hopeful heart. And down the line we march. Foreign fans calling to mind that the U.S. is the land where they pave the streets with gold, and use diamonds for windows, attempting to filch as many scientifictional items from those whom they sarcastically regard as American brethren. The flickering fan, whom may be compared to many things, which comparison you may form at your own discretion, who flaps not flashes across the horison, fiddles around, falls into obscurity, reappears mildly again, obscurity, bursts into a brilliant nova, obscurity, and so he lingers, infinitely prolonging the plea
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10 Page SCIENTI-SNAPS doubtedly the most conspicuous. Usually a [person?] with a well developed inferiority complex who attempts to build up his ego by reeling meaningless literary blasts at persons who never even knew he existed, across the roller of his typewriter. Making mountains out of molehills is his speciality. give him a good arguement and he's in his seventh heaven. That is as long as he can wend his arguements from the more or less indirect method of the printed page. Should this person attempt physical argument, in most cases they would be more or less ineffectual. However, the danger of this person is making fine fans disgusted with science fiction when they view him as a typical example. And of course it would be blasphemy to disregard the literary lions. These bravados stride colossus like across the field, reveling in their independence. Turning out fiction articles, discourses, biographies, verse, departments and what nots by the ream. Basking in the fact that the fan mags couldn't get along without them, but blissfully disregarding a still more important fact that they, prize suckers, are working their fool heads off for the very dubious pleasure of having a group of irresponsibles take the editor to heart when he suggests literary criticism, breaking many a hopeful heart. And down the line we march. Foreign fans calling to mind that the U.S. is the land where they pave the streets with gold, and use diamonds for windows, attempting to filch as many scientifictional items from those whom they sarcastically regard as American brethren. The flickering fan, whom may be compared to many things, which comparison you may form at your own discretion, who flaps not flashes across the horison, fiddles around, falls into obscurity, reappears mildly again, obscurity, bursts into a brilliant nova, obscurity, and so he lingers, infinitely prolonging the plea
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