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Fanfare, v. 1, issue 3, August 1940
Page 4
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take. At the moment it is hardly possible to open a fanmag which hasn't a pen sketch of a "well known fan" or two. Some even go in for photographs and such--we have been impressed by several of these! Thus, we had always thought of Harry Warner jr. as a fair-haired, blue-eyed citizen--it seemed to us just the proper appearance to fit his name. Were we surprised to learn what he is in reality a tall, dark Thin Man! Out of consideration for our readers, we spare them such jolts, and hence the absence of photographs in this issue. For all this, we naturally plan to continue the biogs. After all, what's the good of sponsoring a club organ if we don't get a chance to read about ourselves in it? We have every hope that our next number--October--will contain an account of the Chicon from our special delegate, Art Widner jr. This is especially likely if he actually goes to the Chicon, as he is unfortunetly not an expert at clairvoyance. That's all for now. Louis Russell Chaubenet _____________________________ UNDER THE ORDER In the Unknown of last February one may observe a phenomenon which, if assumed to be the result of pure coincidence, would not happen again in millions and millions of years of publication. The chances against its happenings are so great that we may safely discard the theory that it was a product of pure chance, and are left facing the inescapable fact that here we have a living example of strange, unknown, malignant, sinister forces at work-- an example more disquieting than many given in Unknown's stories. For after all, perhaps the stories are only stories, while this is undeniably a fact. I refer to the story by Wellman, "When It Was Moonlight", which deals with a hero by the name of Edgar Allen Poe, who lived in Philadelphia in 1842 and who wrote stories among which were 'The Premature Burial. 'The Black Cat,' and one concerning a Lunar Voyage by Hans Pfaal. This is not too strange, for we all know of a once-living author who dwelt there then, and who wrote such stories. But now the coincidence; At the bottom of page four of the same issue we find that "All characters used in fiction and semi-fiction stories in this magazine are fictitious. Any similarity in name or characterization to persons, living or dead, is coincidental." Now you can figure out the approximate probability of such a coincidence for yourself. I'm confident that it will turn out to be almost one chance in infinity, and rather than accept the operation of chance against such odds we are forced willy nilly to the realization that those strange, unknown, malignant, etc. forces here give us unmistakable proof of their existance. Beware everyone...... R.D. Swisher
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take. At the moment it is hardly possible to open a fanmag which hasn't a pen sketch of a "well known fan" or two. Some even go in for photographs and such--we have been impressed by several of these! Thus, we had always thought of Harry Warner jr. as a fair-haired, blue-eyed citizen--it seemed to us just the proper appearance to fit his name. Were we surprised to learn what he is in reality a tall, dark Thin Man! Out of consideration for our readers, we spare them such jolts, and hence the absence of photographs in this issue. For all this, we naturally plan to continue the biogs. After all, what's the good of sponsoring a club organ if we don't get a chance to read about ourselves in it? We have every hope that our next number--October--will contain an account of the Chicon from our special delegate, Art Widner jr. This is especially likely if he actually goes to the Chicon, as he is unfortunetly not an expert at clairvoyance. That's all for now. Louis Russell Chaubenet _____________________________ UNDER THE ORDER In the Unknown of last February one may observe a phenomenon which, if assumed to be the result of pure coincidence, would not happen again in millions and millions of years of publication. The chances against its happenings are so great that we may safely discard the theory that it was a product of pure chance, and are left facing the inescapable fact that here we have a living example of strange, unknown, malignant, sinister forces at work-- an example more disquieting than many given in Unknown's stories. For after all, perhaps the stories are only stories, while this is undeniably a fact. I refer to the story by Wellman, "When It Was Moonlight", which deals with a hero by the name of Edgar Allen Poe, who lived in Philadelphia in 1842 and who wrote stories among which were 'The Premature Burial. 'The Black Cat,' and one concerning a Lunar Voyage by Hans Pfaal. This is not too strange, for we all know of a once-living author who dwelt there then, and who wrote such stories. But now the coincidence; At the bottom of page four of the same issue we find that "All characters used in fiction and semi-fiction stories in this magazine are fictitious. Any similarity in name or characterization to persons, living or dead, is coincidental." Now you can figure out the approximate probability of such a coincidence for yourself. I'm confident that it will turn out to be almost one chance in infinity, and rather than accept the operation of chance against such odds we are forced willy nilly to the realization that those strange, unknown, malignant, etc. forces here give us unmistakable proof of their existance. Beware everyone...... R.D. Swisher
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