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Fan Slants, v. 1, issue 1, September 1943
Page 22
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22....................................................................FAN SLANTS a Superoctopus? In my forthcoming compendium, based on the general lines of Spengler's "Decline of the West", which I have called "The Decline of the Octopus", I have traced the rise and fall of the octo-pus for many generations. [Illustration of octopus throwing a bottle, saying, "Oh, Fout!"] From a great mythical beast of all-empowering horror, which rose up out of the sea to literally absorb entire fleets of medieval ships, the octo-pus has degenerated into a paltry, oversized bramble that waves skinny tentacles at pretty girls on bathing beaches. What more fitting act of kindness can be imagined, than to re-lieve this poor shadow of a once great monster with a fine, harmless, decadent creature like Bronson? With a Bronson on every beach, the genuine species of octopi might well be retired to cozy, glassed-in aquariums where they could flut-ter about in comfort for the duration of their life span. And meanwhile, who knows, Bronson, in all his ridiculous floun-dering and Karloffian antics, might even add something to the lore of the octopus. For instance, who ever heard of an octopus, wallowing around in some shallow surf, picking up a floating beer bottle in the wash, and, perceiving it to be empty, throwing it fiercely at the shore, then submerging with a disgusted, "Oh, fout!" [line break] THE FANTASITE, issue number twelve, will be in the mails soon. Featured in this number are the following items: "Pipedream", an art-icle by Milton A. Rothman; "The Fan Field after the War," by T. Bruce Yerke; "Sauerkraut and Gefiltefisch," by Carlton J. Fassbeinder; "The Staplecon," by Forrest J. Ackerman; "Recommended Reading," by Bob Tucker; "Fantasy Book Reviews," by Samuel D. Russell, and so on. Into the night? Send in your dimes now, suckers, for the price of the mag is going up beginning with Volume Three. No material in this issue by James Hilton, owing to snowstorms. Copies are not precurable at fill-ing stations, because of gas-rationing. Did you hear what General Eisenhower said----"Did I tell you about my operations?" Oh, Bruce, what does that guy in the white coat want? No! NO-O-O-O-O-O!! Help, Sam, don't let them--take--me--away-y-y-y-y-yyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy......... 1710 Arizona Avenue, Santa Monica, California, 10 cents per copy, three for a quarter-rock, six for a half-rock. Rock-a-bye-baby. Goo-goo... Splud. Gurgle. End of advertisement. (This was not a paid ad.) Shucks! The page isn't filled up yet. "Come forth!" call the guy, whereupon Daniel slipped on a turn and came fifth. The lions growled.
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22....................................................................FAN SLANTS a Superoctopus? In my forthcoming compendium, based on the general lines of Spengler's "Decline of the West", which I have called "The Decline of the Octopus", I have traced the rise and fall of the octo-pus for many generations. [Illustration of octopus throwing a bottle, saying, "Oh, Fout!"] From a great mythical beast of all-empowering horror, which rose up out of the sea to literally absorb entire fleets of medieval ships, the octo-pus has degenerated into a paltry, oversized bramble that waves skinny tentacles at pretty girls on bathing beaches. What more fitting act of kindness can be imagined, than to re-lieve this poor shadow of a once great monster with a fine, harmless, decadent creature like Bronson? With a Bronson on every beach, the genuine species of octopi might well be retired to cozy, glassed-in aquariums where they could flut-ter about in comfort for the duration of their life span. And meanwhile, who knows, Bronson, in all his ridiculous floun-dering and Karloffian antics, might even add something to the lore of the octopus. For instance, who ever heard of an octopus, wallowing around in some shallow surf, picking up a floating beer bottle in the wash, and, perceiving it to be empty, throwing it fiercely at the shore, then submerging with a disgusted, "Oh, fout!" [line break] THE FANTASITE, issue number twelve, will be in the mails soon. Featured in this number are the following items: "Pipedream", an art-icle by Milton A. Rothman; "The Fan Field after the War," by T. Bruce Yerke; "Sauerkraut and Gefiltefisch," by Carlton J. Fassbeinder; "The Staplecon," by Forrest J. Ackerman; "Recommended Reading," by Bob Tucker; "Fantasy Book Reviews," by Samuel D. Russell, and so on. Into the night? Send in your dimes now, suckers, for the price of the mag is going up beginning with Volume Three. No material in this issue by James Hilton, owing to snowstorms. Copies are not precurable at fill-ing stations, because of gas-rationing. Did you hear what General Eisenhower said----"Did I tell you about my operations?" Oh, Bruce, what does that guy in the white coat want? No! NO-O-O-O-O-O!! Help, Sam, don't let them--take--me--away-y-y-y-y-yyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy......... 1710 Arizona Avenue, Santa Monica, California, 10 cents per copy, three for a quarter-rock, six for a half-rock. Rock-a-bye-baby. Goo-goo... Splud. Gurgle. End of advertisement. (This was not a paid ad.) Shucks! The page isn't filled up yet. "Come forth!" call the guy, whereupon Daniel slipped on a turn and came fifth. The lions growled.
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