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Spacewarp, v. 5, issue 2, whole no. 26, May 1949
Page 5
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PROBLEM IN ORNTHOLOGY by Pvt ANDREW GREGG RA 16286877 Co H, STR Fort Monmouth, New Jersey Dear Art: You're right, I do see a lot of interesting things around here, and in my trips to New York. I've got material for a few articles and lots of stories now. Here's one of the most interesting. It's about Jumes Sindman, alias Clark Kramer. He's written quite a few stories for Ziff-Davis, and some for TWS, SS, and FFM. I ran across him thru Lamont Buchanan of Weird. Before that I knew of him, but not his address, and very little about him. I found him in a well-furnished apartment house near Central Park. We talked in his study, a small, bright room in the corner of the building. Always on the prowl for a good article for WARP, I started asking questions right away. "What's your favorite magazine?" I asked. Well, he didn't know for sure. He liked them all, and did't want to be partial. Besides, his personal friendship with the editors and writers influenced it quite a bit. Soon the talk drifted to those editors and writers. He began to talk about the personal oddities of these people. For example, he told me that Bob Saunders, TWS writer, sleeps with his socks on, and is usually surprised in the morning thinking that his feet have been tatooed during the night. How Sindman found this out, he never told me. He received several letters from fen who thot they were deroes, and one from a fan who thought he was the reincarnation of Roger Bacon. "Here's a good one!" he said, pointing to a framed letter on his Study wall. It was from one Sam (Spacerat) Frank, telling how is early life was spent on the planet Venus, and how hie finally reached Earth by an anti-grav spaceship. He spoke of the queer sights there: deserts of molten silica and animals that burned instead of dying. In Sindman's library were a few pictures painted by this Rank. We went to see them. Beautiful and wild they were. They were in harsh, primitive colors and strange designs, like a Picasso mad at Dali. Sindman laughed as he looked at them. "This reminds me of Les Richard. He's one of the screwiest of them all. He claims to make trips every night to Mars. He won't tell me how does it, but I suppose he flies. He doesn't have any wings or jets on his feet that I know of. And he doesn't change, like me. I can change myself into a little green bird any time I want 5
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PROBLEM IN ORNTHOLOGY by Pvt ANDREW GREGG RA 16286877 Co H, STR Fort Monmouth, New Jersey Dear Art: You're right, I do see a lot of interesting things around here, and in my trips to New York. I've got material for a few articles and lots of stories now. Here's one of the most interesting. It's about Jumes Sindman, alias Clark Kramer. He's written quite a few stories for Ziff-Davis, and some for TWS, SS, and FFM. I ran across him thru Lamont Buchanan of Weird. Before that I knew of him, but not his address, and very little about him. I found him in a well-furnished apartment house near Central Park. We talked in his study, a small, bright room in the corner of the building. Always on the prowl for a good article for WARP, I started asking questions right away. "What's your favorite magazine?" I asked. Well, he didn't know for sure. He liked them all, and did't want to be partial. Besides, his personal friendship with the editors and writers influenced it quite a bit. Soon the talk drifted to those editors and writers. He began to talk about the personal oddities of these people. For example, he told me that Bob Saunders, TWS writer, sleeps with his socks on, and is usually surprised in the morning thinking that his feet have been tatooed during the night. How Sindman found this out, he never told me. He received several letters from fen who thot they were deroes, and one from a fan who thought he was the reincarnation of Roger Bacon. "Here's a good one!" he said, pointing to a framed letter on his Study wall. It was from one Sam (Spacerat) Frank, telling how is early life was spent on the planet Venus, and how hie finally reached Earth by an anti-grav spaceship. He spoke of the queer sights there: deserts of molten silica and animals that burned instead of dying. In Sindman's library were a few pictures painted by this Rank. We went to see them. Beautiful and wild they were. They were in harsh, primitive colors and strange designs, like a Picasso mad at Dali. Sindman laughed as he looked at them. "This reminds me of Les Richard. He's one of the screwiest of them all. He claims to make trips every night to Mars. He won't tell me how does it, but I suppose he flies. He doesn't have any wings or jets on his feet that I know of. And he doesn't change, like me. I can change myself into a little green bird any time I want 5
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