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Vantage Point, issue 1, March 14, 1945
4
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never premanent or exhaustingly disastrous to worry about in the United States. Sooner or later the darkness lifts, and, already a bright new light, designed to sustain what is left of the nation's fine old stuffing, is casting interesting reflections of the coming dawn. I refer, of course to the recent rebirth of science. Scarcely had we gone to bat and wound up for a homerun hit o the Nazis, with bases loaded, when our entire tribe of manufacturers opened up with a terrific barrage of porpaganda. Th message, in three-color, full-page ads in the runover section of the dime and two-bit family magazines, cried cheerily that come V-Day the skies would crack on the dotted line and drown us all in a flood of pocket radios, wireless refrigerators, wrist-watch television sets, microfilm phonographs and book recordings, sulfa drugs in sodas and sodas in pellets the size of a horse pill. Plainly the war emergency had built such a big bonfire under our technical brains that they had requested ten minutes of silence in the laboratories and emerged with twenty years of progress impaled on the points of their slide rules. The results were astonishing. Feature writers and the editors of women's magazines reared up and let out falsetto shrieks of delight. Digests, blinded by the brilliance of billion-horsepower brains, wrigglingly stated that war had its uses in keeping scientists on their toes, whiel broad grins split the usually bland faces of the National Association of Manufacturers, which proceeded to hatch a fat little plot based on the idea that anything they could do to avoid responsibility for a postwar economic crash was crumbcake in their coffee, and this was it. The glorious inspiration, since seen crawling from page to page of the conservative organs of the public prints, was that tough luck and scientific gadgets had made America great and were marked to get her past that last hump to (2)
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never premanent or exhaustingly disastrous to worry about in the United States. Sooner or later the darkness lifts, and, already a bright new light, designed to sustain what is left of the nation's fine old stuffing, is casting interesting reflections of the coming dawn. I refer, of course to the recent rebirth of science. Scarcely had we gone to bat and wound up for a homerun hit o the Nazis, with bases loaded, when our entire tribe of manufacturers opened up with a terrific barrage of porpaganda. Th message, in three-color, full-page ads in the runover section of the dime and two-bit family magazines, cried cheerily that come V-Day the skies would crack on the dotted line and drown us all in a flood of pocket radios, wireless refrigerators, wrist-watch television sets, microfilm phonographs and book recordings, sulfa drugs in sodas and sodas in pellets the size of a horse pill. Plainly the war emergency had built such a big bonfire under our technical brains that they had requested ten minutes of silence in the laboratories and emerged with twenty years of progress impaled on the points of their slide rules. The results were astonishing. Feature writers and the editors of women's magazines reared up and let out falsetto shrieks of delight. Digests, blinded by the brilliance of billion-horsepower brains, wrigglingly stated that war had its uses in keeping scientists on their toes, whiel broad grins split the usually bland faces of the National Association of Manufacturers, which proceeded to hatch a fat little plot based on the idea that anything they could do to avoid responsibility for a postwar economic crash was crumbcake in their coffee, and this was it. The glorious inspiration, since seen crawling from page to page of the conservative organs of the public prints, was that tough luck and scientific gadgets had made America great and were marked to get her past that last hump to (2)
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