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Tellus, issue 2, November 1941

Page 5

TELLUS     PAGE FIVE

The Golden Gaters
assisted by yngvi

Your columnist rises from out the hazy fumes of reeking alcohol grasps yngvi firmly by the scruff of the neck to drag him from the little brown bottle of murky liquid, places five fingers on each hand, and seats himself at the helm of a beer-sodden typewriter. Turning to yngvi, he asks what they should talk about. Yngvi wipes his brow, licks his gin-soaked fingertips, and answers in a mushy tone. "Whashish bosh? Whashamatta? You look ashif you were-hic-un'er the affluence of incohol. No one can write a column when he's shoaked to the gi-hic-illsh. I make a moshion that you reform beore you become a victim to the whoarrible affect-hic-shions-hic----maybe I'm drunk. Anyhoo, lesh reform, hunh? You know, bosh, I think your hic-plash-, uh, splash--hic, er, platter--; kaff, kaff, uh, plasser--Hm, er-hic-, --aw, yer jush Fortierfied wif nasty booze, thas what."

So leaving yngvi under the stained carpet, where he is trying to get down to my level, let's proceed to the business at hand. But is there any business? Well, I can probably think of a little interesting news. Just a moment until I consult my magic lantern. Hmm, says 151 proof. That's proof enough, so wait until I consume the facts. Ah! I am now full of rummy-good proven facts. Burp---- Well, perhaps our erstwhile editor will not approve of such meanderings, so let us pass on to greater things. Such one might consider a little conversation that was held the other evening over a few beers. Our little circle was discussing Tom Wright and cussing other fans in general We remarked about his finer points, all of them seeming to be of the finer variety, which included the facts that he doesn't smoke, drink, or swear; neither does he start feuds, engage in arguments, nor turn out hack work. It might be concluded that Tom is the least lauded of stfans, because of his quiet life; let it be known that this column goes on record as believing that this fine fellow truly deserves the distinctive title of  Best Stfan!

There is absolutely no truth to the rumor that Fortier is an outspoken, impetuous young drunk "But I only told her I was sober. . . ."

Louis and Larry Smith are getting into the thick of things faster than any other up-and-coming stfans in history. Despite the fact that Louis hasn't been connected with fan affairs for four years, and that Larry has never delved into the deep mysteries of said field, the two are doing everything that a couple of young fans, desiring to become active, could. (Hot Dam! ((saw that in a science article about the Boulder--or was it Dam Hoover--so it isn't revolting language, but watt a chance for a shocking pun)) wasn't that terrible grammar, now that we're back on the subject?) Also getting to the top in swift action is Jack Riggs. Three rousing cheers for the boy! Jack is co-editor of TELLUS

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TELLUS PAGE FIVE The Golden Gaters assisted by yngvi Your columnist rises from out the hazy fumes of reeking alcohol grasps yngvi firmly by the scruff of the neck to drag him from the little brown bottle of murky liquid, places five fingers on each hand, and seats himself at the helm of a beer-sodden typewriter. Turning to yngvi, he asks what they should talk about. Yngvi wipes his brow, licks his gin-soaked fingertips, and answers in a mushy tone. "Whashish bosh? Whashamatta? You look ashif you were-hic-un'er the affluence of incohol. No one can write a column when he's shoaked to the gi-hic-illsh. I make a moshion that you reform beore you become a victim to the whoarrible affect-hic-shions-hic----maybe I'm drunk. Anyhoo, lesh reform, hunh? You know, bosh, I think your hic-plash-, uh, splash--hic, er, platter--; kaff, kaff, uh, plasser--Hm, er-hic-, --aw, yer jush Fortierfied wif nasty booze, thas what." So leaving yngvi under the stained carpet, where he is trying to get down to my level, let's proceed to the business at hand. But is there any business? Well, I can probably think of a little interesting news. Just a moment until I consult my magic lantern. Hmm, says 151 proof. That's proof enough, so wait until I consume the facts. Ah! I am now full of rummy-good proven facts. Burp---- Well, perhaps our erstwhile editor will not approve of such meanderings, so let us pass on to greater things. Such one might consider a little conversation that was held the other evening over a few beers. Our little circle was discussing Tom Wright and cussing other fans in general We remarked about his finer points, all of them seeming to be of the finer variety, which included the facts that he doesn't smoke, drink, or swear; neither does he start feuds, engage in arguments, nor turn out hack work. It might be concluded that Tom is the least lauded of stfans, because of his quiet life; let it be known that this column goes on record as believing that this fine fellow truly deserves the distinctive title of Best Stfan! There is absolutely no truth to the rumor that Fortier is an outspoken, impetuous young drunk "But I only told her I was sober. . . ." Louis and Larry Smith are getting into the thick of things faster than any other up-and-coming stfans in history. Despite the fact that Louis hasn't been connected with fan affairs for four years, and that Larry has never delved into the deep mysteries of said field, the two are doing everything that a couple of young fans, desiring to become active, could. (Hot Dam! ((saw that in a science article about the Boulder--or was it Dam Hoover--so it isn't revolting language, but watt a chance for a shocking pun)) wasn't that terrible grammar, now that we're back on the subject?) Also getting to the top in swift action is Jack Riggs. Three rousing cheers for the boy! Jack is co-editor of TELLUS