Transcribe
Translate
Neophyte, v. 1, issue 1, January 1948
Page 7
More information
digital collection
archival collection guide
transcription tips
BIG PEACE TIME PAY FOR FANS by Charles Burbee I got to thinking the other night about huge incomes, a thought that plagues most people and fans at times. I know what when ever I go to the race-track I tell everybody, including myself, that I am just going for the fun of it, not that I care about money. Secretly I fell that this time I am going to sweep the card and parley a two-dollar investment into fifty-eight thousand five hundred. Now, assuming that most fans are not so unworldly as to scorn mundane money, I am going to steer you into a cash-coining byway that will bring you untold sums, thus enabling you to spend hundreds of hours a month turning out fanzines. As soon as this plan goes into effect I expect a colossal fanzine boom. I expect 100 fanzines a day to pour gratuitously into my mailbox. Maybe 200 a day, 500 on Mondays. I am presenting this scheme solely to goose the fanzine field. How'd you like to make $10,000 a year for six hours' work per week? And not even every week? Work when you please? Go into business with a capital of maybe three or four dollars? I thought so. All right, then. Bend an ear to the page and listen. It is agreed that fans are slans. To put it more simply, you're all supermen, all of you, regardless of popular opinion. Supermen, of course, have no trouble seeing right through subterfuge, riddles, puzzles, dissemblance, tricks, etc. Ideas flow from them like beer from a tap. And you're all supermen. All of you. Certainly you can finish a sentence in twenty-five additional words or less? Or write the last line of a limerick? Or name a baby cow.* Well, all you've got to do is just that. After all, now that the war is over, various companies are offering fantastic prizes for those simple little tasks. Generally, you have to enclose a box top or label or a reasonable facsimile thereof, and that is where your capital outlay comes in. Stamps are a small item, of course. You can always use the toothpaste, or soap, or eat the cereal that was behind or under the label or boxtop, so there is some return for your outlay. Naturally, since you're all supermen, all of you, your contributions will win the contests. And since duplicate prizes are awarded in case of ties, can't you see all fandom, each & every member, receiving duplicate first prizes -- automobiles, trips to Hawaii, $10,000 in cash, $30 per week for life, an electronic washing machine in case you have any dirty electrons? Gosh, it's all so simple it's a stupefying shame it hasn't been thought of before. But now that it has, go on and get busy, fans. I have faith in you. You're all supermen, all of you. I am going out to the garage this minute and make a new mailbox out of an old five-gallon can. According to my figures, that should be about right for the hordes of fanzines that will start to flood the nation in a very short time. Me? I want nothing. No reward. I've done this for fandom. *calf.
Saving...
prev
next
BIG PEACE TIME PAY FOR FANS by Charles Burbee I got to thinking the other night about huge incomes, a thought that plagues most people and fans at times. I know what when ever I go to the race-track I tell everybody, including myself, that I am just going for the fun of it, not that I care about money. Secretly I fell that this time I am going to sweep the card and parley a two-dollar investment into fifty-eight thousand five hundred. Now, assuming that most fans are not so unworldly as to scorn mundane money, I am going to steer you into a cash-coining byway that will bring you untold sums, thus enabling you to spend hundreds of hours a month turning out fanzines. As soon as this plan goes into effect I expect a colossal fanzine boom. I expect 100 fanzines a day to pour gratuitously into my mailbox. Maybe 200 a day, 500 on Mondays. I am presenting this scheme solely to goose the fanzine field. How'd you like to make $10,000 a year for six hours' work per week? And not even every week? Work when you please? Go into business with a capital of maybe three or four dollars? I thought so. All right, then. Bend an ear to the page and listen. It is agreed that fans are slans. To put it more simply, you're all supermen, all of you, regardless of popular opinion. Supermen, of course, have no trouble seeing right through subterfuge, riddles, puzzles, dissemblance, tricks, etc. Ideas flow from them like beer from a tap. And you're all supermen. All of you. Certainly you can finish a sentence in twenty-five additional words or less? Or write the last line of a limerick? Or name a baby cow.* Well, all you've got to do is just that. After all, now that the war is over, various companies are offering fantastic prizes for those simple little tasks. Generally, you have to enclose a box top or label or a reasonable facsimile thereof, and that is where your capital outlay comes in. Stamps are a small item, of course. You can always use the toothpaste, or soap, or eat the cereal that was behind or under the label or boxtop, so there is some return for your outlay. Naturally, since you're all supermen, all of you, your contributions will win the contests. And since duplicate prizes are awarded in case of ties, can't you see all fandom, each & every member, receiving duplicate first prizes -- automobiles, trips to Hawaii, $10,000 in cash, $30 per week for life, an electronic washing machine in case you have any dirty electrons? Gosh, it's all so simple it's a stupefying shame it hasn't been thought of before. But now that it has, go on and get busy, fans. I have faith in you. You're all supermen, all of you. I am going out to the garage this minute and make a new mailbox out of an old five-gallon can. According to my figures, that should be about right for the hordes of fanzines that will start to flood the nation in a very short time. Me? I want nothing. No reward. I've done this for fandom. *calf.
Hevelin Fanzines
sidebar
