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Chaos, v. 1, issue 1, January 1945
Page 2
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QUOTE...UNQUOTE: We culled the following from our fenzine collection, meagre tho it be. --The smell /of melted hecto jelly/ is not pleasant and the neighbors will suspect you of being a drunkard but, I'm told, fans are immune to the opinions of the masses. Alan Chils in VISION We just take it in our stride, chum. --The Real charm of the nude is that is portrays for everyone an expression of their own ideals, yearnings, and desires. Julian Parr in GEMINI We've read Freud too. --We have never really minded the knocks we have received from some of the "big fans". They really amuse us in a way--one or two guys poking us on the chin, while we have the majority of fandom for a second. We don't lose. Lionel Innman in VULCAN You're just being big-hearted about it, aren't you Lionel? How nauseatingly nice of you. --The Universe is a wonderful place to be in if you are a young writer starving in a furnished room (two dollars a week) and wanting a beer, wanting a check from Satevepost, wanting Hody Lamarr--all full of unexpressed wants and desires and salami, and not feeling that Lenin was always right either... Billiam Stfaroyan in COUNT WACULA Comment, we feel, would be out of place. --I dislike commerical weirds--hate 'em with a holy hatred. Ghosts, vampires, werewolves--t'hell with 'em--(always retaining from limbo the work of such man as M. R. James, H. R. Wakefield, John Metcalfe, and the other British weirdists. But then, none of their stuff is commerical, is it?) Francis Laney in CHANTICLEER Isn't it? --The weird tale is an adumbration or foreshadowing of man's relationship--past, present, and future--to the unknown and infinite, and also an implication of his mental and sensory evolution. CASmith in Acolyte. Comment is entirely unnecessary. ------------------------------------- FM Reviews: Yes, it makes passable killer. CHANTICLEER by Walt Liebscher is fandom's #2 rag, though the corn is laid tremendously thick and the book reviews are horribly biased toward fantasy, but we suppose the letter can't be helped. At any rate, Liebscher promises to supplant ACOLYTE and Laney, even if he does go on a limited circulation, which I doubt. VULCAN by Lionel Innman struggles along its usual rut with the aggressive aid of foul mimeographing, even worse hectographing, and even more hedious lino cuts. The nudes are hanal, the material is weak, the format reeks, and the editor still has the crass gall to say that its been great fun. Rickey-ticky-too, Lionel, ricky-ticky-too. ACOLYTE by Laney is readable if not unsurpassable. The magasine is too much off the deep end of fantasy, and the editors' views on the subject are somwarped as to be damn near incomprehensible. This business of accepting professional rejects, too, is bad for the guy who wants to learn something and bad for the editors who haven't got the brains to try and get their newer crop to get something done. Nevertheless, #1. SHANGRI-L'AFFARS by Burbee, even if the covour does stink like all hell, manages to hold the interest and the attention of the reader. Burbee has a VoM complex, though, or maybe he likes printing letters. Ah, youth ! 30
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QUOTE...UNQUOTE: We culled the following from our fenzine collection, meagre tho it be. --The smell /of melted hecto jelly/ is not pleasant and the neighbors will suspect you of being a drunkard but, I'm told, fans are immune to the opinions of the masses. Alan Chils in VISION We just take it in our stride, chum. --The Real charm of the nude is that is portrays for everyone an expression of their own ideals, yearnings, and desires. Julian Parr in GEMINI We've read Freud too. --We have never really minded the knocks we have received from some of the "big fans". They really amuse us in a way--one or two guys poking us on the chin, while we have the majority of fandom for a second. We don't lose. Lionel Innman in VULCAN You're just being big-hearted about it, aren't you Lionel? How nauseatingly nice of you. --The Universe is a wonderful place to be in if you are a young writer starving in a furnished room (two dollars a week) and wanting a beer, wanting a check from Satevepost, wanting Hody Lamarr--all full of unexpressed wants and desires and salami, and not feeling that Lenin was always right either... Billiam Stfaroyan in COUNT WACULA Comment, we feel, would be out of place. --I dislike commerical weirds--hate 'em with a holy hatred. Ghosts, vampires, werewolves--t'hell with 'em--(always retaining from limbo the work of such man as M. R. James, H. R. Wakefield, John Metcalfe, and the other British weirdists. But then, none of their stuff is commerical, is it?) Francis Laney in CHANTICLEER Isn't it? --The weird tale is an adumbration or foreshadowing of man's relationship--past, present, and future--to the unknown and infinite, and also an implication of his mental and sensory evolution. CASmith in Acolyte. Comment is entirely unnecessary. ------------------------------------- FM Reviews: Yes, it makes passable killer. CHANTICLEER by Walt Liebscher is fandom's #2 rag, though the corn is laid tremendously thick and the book reviews are horribly biased toward fantasy, but we suppose the letter can't be helped. At any rate, Liebscher promises to supplant ACOLYTE and Laney, even if he does go on a limited circulation, which I doubt. VULCAN by Lionel Innman struggles along its usual rut with the aggressive aid of foul mimeographing, even worse hectographing, and even more hedious lino cuts. The nudes are hanal, the material is weak, the format reeks, and the editor still has the crass gall to say that its been great fun. Rickey-ticky-too, Lionel, ricky-ticky-too. ACOLYTE by Laney is readable if not unsurpassable. The magasine is too much off the deep end of fantasy, and the editors' views on the subject are somwarped as to be damn near incomprehensible. This business of accepting professional rejects, too, is bad for the guy who wants to learn something and bad for the editors who haven't got the brains to try and get their newer crop to get something done. Nevertheless, #1. SHANGRI-L'AFFARS by Burbee, even if the covour does stink like all hell, manages to hold the interest and the attention of the reader. Burbee has a VoM complex, though, or maybe he likes printing letters. Ah, youth ! 30
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