[July 20, 1969] Today's the day! (August 1969 Fantasy and Science Fiction)

photo of a man with glasses and curly, long, brown hair, and a beard and mustache
by Gideon Marcus

Live from the Moon

Four days ago, Apollo 11 blasted off from Cape Kennedy's Pad 39A, destination: Moon.  KGJ, our affiliated TV station, will be simulcasting CBS coverage of the landing and Moonwalk starting at noon, Pacific time, and going all day from then.

Please join us for this once-in-a-lifetime event!

The issue at hand

As excited as I am about this historic day, we must remember that today's scientific triumphs owe much to our science fictional musings.  Let's crack open the latest issue of The Magazine of Science Fiction and Fantasy and see what the good folks there have dreamed for us this month!


by Ronald Walotsky

An Adventure in the Yolla Bolly Middle Eel Wilderness, by Vance Aandahl

Well, things don't start too good.

Big Foot is a girl, and she's in heat.  Lucky for her, an overtaxed young English teacher on sabbatical has just broken down in the backwoods near her lair.

My friend, Jean-Paul Garnier, who runs a science fiction bookstore out in Joshua Tree, describes the New Wave as:

Science fiction has always been concerned with technology and its repercussions.  The New Wave, at its best, includes in its speculation, the technology of language, both thematically and in praxis.

Aandahl's story is what happens when you combine the worst logorrhea of the New Wave with a per-word payment incentive mixed in with the latest craze for inserting sex into everything.  I think it's supposed to be satirical in its deadly earnest telling, or perhaps it just comes off as satirical because it's so ridiculous, its prose so contrived.  Like Zelazny passed out drunk and wrote a novelette before he woke up.

Two stars.

Books (F&SF, August 1969), by Joanna Russ

I have no comment on this column as I feel commentary on commentary is a bit superfluous.  I just note that Ms. Russ has graduated to full-time columnist, and that her views do not quite match up with mine (which is fine—no book reviewer's do, save for, in the main, P. Schuyler Miller and, of course, our own David Levinson).

The Shamblers of Misery, by Joseph Green

Alright, now we're talking.  This piece, by Britisher Joseph Green, is an example of one of my favorite science fiction subgenres: the evaluation of an alien race to determine its sentience (establishment of such generally meaning that the planet is marked off limits for exploitation).  The late H. Beam Piper's Little Fuzzy is a prime example.

The story: Allan Odegaard is a "Practical Philospher", one of a handful of humans qualified for the judge of alien sentience.  He is dispatched to the hot, humid planet of Misery, home to a race of extraterrestrials with a puzzling life cycle.  Their intelligence grows through childhood, but upon reaching puberty, their mental faculties slowly decay.  Eventually, they all succumb to trembling seizures that increase in severity until the final, fatal one.  Though capable of doing simple chores, like collection of a local and valuable spice, the adults fall short of true sapience.

The prime suspect for this malady is the addictive drug, made from the spice, that the human colonists give the alien workers.  But is that the true culprit?  Allan perseveres until he finds the truth.

This is a delightful story, straightforward and scientific, with a refreshing degree of sexual equality so often missing from modern science fiction.  Indeed, had I not read the byline, I might have guessed the story had been written by Paul Ash (actually Pauline Ashwell), who wrote the terrific The Wings of a Bat.

The only thing that knocks the story from five stars is I felt the solution was not quite set up sufficiently to be deduced by the reader, though in hindsight, perhaps it was.  But either way, it's a good, SFnal tale.

Four stars.

Next, by Gary Jennings

A tired, retired man, just turned 60, is driving along a one-lane road in the middle of Mexico when he has a terrible accident.  Miraculously, he survives and goes on to enjoy a streak of improbably good fortune that exposes the drabness of his life hitherto in stark relief.

I liked this story quite a bit, and the only reason I give it a high three rather than a low four stars is the ending.  Not that it's a bad one, but I recommend reading this piece and end at the bottom of page 61 (the penultimate page).  I thought the story had ended there, and I really liked the abrupt vividness of it, almost Ellisonesque.  The continuation on page 62 is superfluous.


by Gahan Wilson

Fraternity Brother, by Sterling E. Lanier

Brigadier Ffellowes is a character I'm always happy to see turn up.  He's the ruddy-cheeked ex-officer who frequents pubs and can always be relied upon to recount outlandish, fantastic tales of his earlier years.  This time, when asked which of the secret societies is the oldest, he responds with a story of his time in the Basque country during the Spanish Civil War.

What I love about the Brigadier is how unflappable he is, or at least the aplomb with which he imbues his former self (whether such is an accurate portrayal is, of course, a mystery).  And the telling of these tales is always pleasant. 

I'm not sure that I buy, as is asserted in the story, that the Basques can trace their ancestry all the way back, undiluted, to Cro-Magnon Man (my 1964 Collier's simply notes that the Euskara assert that they are pre-Celtic Iberians), but it is a pretty embellishment.

Four stars.

From the Darkness and the Depths, by Morgan Robertson

This ancient story was published in 1913, and it reads like something from the old copies of Weird Tales I've gotten my hands on.  With the framing device of a fellow discussing the possibility of an ultraviolet lantern as a way to penetrate fog to avoid a second Titanic disaster, this story is the recounting of an attack by an invisible creature from the deep.  The science-fictional element is the idea that a sea monster, transparent to visible light but apparent in UV, could evolve in the ocean depths.

Pleasant, if not outstanding, reading.  Three stars.

On Throwing a Ball, by Isaac Asimov

Dr. A. offers up a derivation for the famous equation: f=ma (force equals mass times acceleration—provided you use metric units).  I suppose it's nothing one couldn't find in any good physics textbook, but it's nicely conveyed.

Four stars.

The Money Builder, by Paul Thielen

Lastly, this trivial piece about a grifter with a wild story.  Seems that he teamed up with an alien to build a gravity repulsor such that he could now tamper with any sports game.  On his way to riches, his extraterrestrial partner was apprehended by his fellows, leaving him in the lurch when the big match went the wrong way.  Now, said grifter needs just $5,000 to repair his gadget and once again rig his way to the pink.

I suppose how you rate the story is based on how you buy the grifter's tale: as science fiction, the piece is kaka.  As the seductive pitch of a con man, it's not so bad.  That said, I found the tale kind of dull and old-fashioned.

Two stars.

The Main Event

So, all in all, a reasonably palatable issue of F&SF, though nothing special.  Certainly nothing to distract from the greatest spectacle the human race has every known: our first landing on another world.  For the moment, revel in science fiction become fact.  Save the fantasy for next week, and join us this afternoon!






[July 18, 1969] The Greatest Adventure Lifts Off (Apollo-11, Part 1)

Two days ago, Apollo 11 blasted off from Cape Kennedy's Pad 39A, destination: Moon.  KGJ, our affiliated TV station, will be simulcasting CBS coverage of the landing and Moonwalk starting at noon, Pacific time, on July 20th, and going all day from then.

Please join us for this once-in-a-lifetime event!


by Kaye Dee

"Lift off. We have lift off”, Launch Control at Kennedy Space Centre (KSC) excitedly announced, as Apollo 11’s Saturn-V thundered off the pad just two days ago! While a Saturn-V liftoff is no longer a new occurrence at KSC, this launch was special. An astronaut crew is now on the way to fulfill the millenium-old human dream of reaching the surface of the Moon!

Describing Apollo 11 as Mankind’s “greatest adventure” has already become hackneyed and overused. And yet, I didn’t really feel that I could give this article today any other title – because the attempt to land the first astronauts on the Moon is an incredible adventure: some commentators are calling it the greatest human adventure since our hominid ancestors ventured out of Africa to explore the world. Is that hyperbole? Perhaps. But it is a daring exploit to venture out from our home planet, across a totally inimical environment, and actually set foot on another world for the first time.


This mission is exciting, complex and – yes – dangerous, so to follow it all, I’m once again going to divide my coverage of it into two parts, beginning today with some background for the mission and its launch. The second part will follow, after the astronauts’ (hopefully) successful return to Earth.

Where to Land?
Operational and engineering considerations have played the major role in dictating where the first astronauts will land on the Moon. Over the last two years, intense analysis has gradually winnowed down some thirty possible landing sites originally suggested based on Lunar Orbiter images and Surveyor lander data and more recent close-up imagery from Apollo-8 and 10.

Several constraint parameters have determined the Apollo-11 landing site and its backup landing locations. The Moon has a peculiar lighting characteristic, in that it reflects the light from the Sun directly back into your face, and it was a concern to the astronauts that they might be dazzled by this reflected light while trying to land. To avoid this, they wanted to have the Sun only about 10 degrees above the horizon, meaning that the Lunar Module (LM) must fly in from the east with the Sun behind it, to land shortly after sunrise, when surface objects cast revealing shadows to identify possible hazards around the landing site.


This trajectory for landing means that the landing site had to be east of the lunar meridian, so that if the launch was delayed for a few days, back-up sites would still have suitable lighting.  NASA wanted the site to be within 5° of the lunar equator, as a higher latitude site would consume more fuel, and fuel economy is an important consideration for this first landing attempt. Finally, mission planners wanted a relatively flat landing site for the initial landing, free from sharp ridges, large boulders or steep sided craters.


A “Water Landing” on a Dry World
These constraints required the location for the first manned lunar landing to be a “mare” region (those areas thought by ancient sky-gazers to be lunar seas) near the Moon’s equator, with the choice settling on the Mare Tranquillitatis (Sea of Tranquility). This area provided two possible landing targets designated ALS (Apollo Landing Site)-1 and ALS-2.

Map showing the final five prospective landing sites for Apollo-11. Site 2 is the selected location for the landing attempt

The selected site, ALS-2, is only 25 kilometres southeast of the Surveyor-5 landing site, and when Apollo 10 made a low pass over the spot it received a favourable report from Commander Tom Stafford. 

Apollo-10 view of the Apollo-11 landing site

ALS-2 would also allow a two-day recycle in the case of a delay, to the next back-up site in Sinus Medii. Last, but not least, the choice of ALS-2 has made the scientists happy, since it will provide them data from a typical mare site.

A Crew to Make History
For the astronauts of Apollo-11, becoming the crew that would make the historic first lunar landing attempt has been a matter of luck and crew rotation, rather than deliberate selection. As the back-up crew for Apollo-8, Neil Armstrong and Edwin Aldrin were automatically rotated into the prime crew for Apollo-11. The third member of that back-up team, Fred Haise, was replaced by Michel Collins, following his return to flight status after surgery for a bone spur in his neck. (Haise has now been switched to the Apollo 14 crew).

L. R. Neil Armstrong, Michael Collins and Edwin "Buzz" Aldrin

We already know that Apollo-10 was a brief contender to make the first landing attempt, while had that mission failed to achieve all its “rehearsal” objectives, Apollo-11 would now be repeating its flight plan. In that case, Apollo-12 would have become the first landing attempt – and should Apollo-11 fail to achieve its landing objective, Apollo-12 may yet become the first Moon landing mission.

While perhaps not “hand-picked” for the job, the current Apollo-11 crew, formally announced on 9 January this year, are certainly up to the task of ensuring the success of this history-making spaceflight!

Apollo-11 crew portrait at the announcement of their selection

Spaceflight Veterans
Each member of the Apollo-11 crew is a veteran of one previous space mission, so we have met them before in the annals of the Journey.

Mission Commander Mr. Neil Armstrong, 38, was the Command Pilot of the Gemini-8 mission, which experienced NASA’s first in-flight emergency. He safely rescued that mission by drawing on his extensive test flight experience. As a civilian, Mr. Armstrong earns $US22,500 a year from NASA, making him the most highly paid of all the astronauts.

A lovely portrait of the Apollo-11 crew with their wives and children, from Life magazine

USAF Colonel Edwin Aldrin, 39, known to his family as “Buzz” and to his astronaut colleagues as Dr. Rendezvous, is the designated Lunar Module Pilot (LMP). Col. Aldrin was the Pilot of Gemini-12, performing three successful spacewalks. If the onboard radar fails, this is a man who can manually complete the rendezvous using a sextant and a slide rule!

Also a Colonel in the US Air Force, Michael Collins is the Command Module Pilot (CMP) for this mission. His first spaceflight was Gemini-10, for which he was the Pilot, performing both a “stand-up” EVA (standing in the hatch of the spacecraft) and a partially-successful spacewalk.

Who’s First Out the Hatch?
At the very first press conference for the Apollo 11 crew in January, on the assumption that it would be the first landing mission, a reporter raised the question of who would be the first astronaut to step onto the Moon. Early mission flight plans and timelines noted that the LM Pilot would step out first, and this scenario was consistent with the practice on the Gemini missions, where the Pilot would make the Extravehicular Activities (EVAs), rather than the Command Pilot.

Fish-eye view of astronauts Aldrin and Armstrong as they train in a mock-up lunar module

However, in April it was announced that Mr. Armstrong, as mission commander, would be the first to step onto the lunar surface. Col. Aldrin, apparently expecting to be first out of the hatch, is rumoured to have been put out by this, especially when there were some stories flying around that he had been sidelined in favour of Armstrong because the commander was a civilian. Aldrin is said to have felt this to be a slight to the military.

A Quiet Hero
There is an official NASA rationale for the decision that Mr. Armstrong should be the first person to exit the LM and step onto the lunar surface: the interior design of the Lunar Module and the physical locations of the two astronauts inside the cabin makes it more practical for Armstrong to be the first one out. As LMP, Col. Aldrin will stand on the right side of the LM, while Mr. Armstrong, on the left, will be closest to the hatch opening.

Diagram of a forward view of the LM, showing the Commander's station the let and the LMP station to the right. It would have been difficult for Armstrong and Aldrin to swap places in this very cramped interior

I have heard through the grapevine at the Honeysuckle Creek Tracking Station that senior NASA managers decided unanimously in March that they wanted Mr. Armstrong to be the First Man on the Moon, because they felt that the first human to set foot on another world should be someone like the pioneering aviator Charles Lindbergh – a calm and quiet person. Armstrong fitted this mould as “the example of the great American hero – calm, quiet, softly spoken, with absolute confidence and with no ego”.

Charles Lindbergh and Neil Armstrong – seen by NASA managers as two men in the same quietly heroic mould. There is certainly something similar in their facial expressions

Flight Operations Director Deke Slayton is also said to have felt that, as Commander, it was a matter of protocol that Mr. Armstrong should be first out the hatch, especially as he was senior to Col. Aldrin, having joined the astronaut corps in Group Two, while Aldrin entered in Group Three.

But whatever the reasoning, as long as the landing on the lunar surface is a success, Neil Armstrong looks set to become the astronaut whose name will reverberate through history as the First Man on Moon in just a few days’ time.

Symbolic Callsigns
As was the case with Apollo-9 and 10, Apollo-11 requires separate callsigns for the Command and Lunar Modules when they are operating independently at the Moon. Given the globally significant nature of this flight, and its symbolic role in winning the Space Race for the United States by landing the first astronauts on the lunar surface ahead of the USSR, the crew, according to Mr. Armstrong, were inundated with suggestions for the names of their spacecraft.

NASA Public Affairs wanted the Apollo-11 crew to be “less flippant” in selecting their spacecraft names following the more light-hearted choices of the Apollo-9 and 10 crews. While I’ve heard that the names Snowcone (CM) and Haystack (LM) were referred to early in mission planning, ultimately the Apollo-11 astronauts selected the names Columbia (for the CM) and Eagle (for the LM) as being suitably representative of the historic nature of the mission.

1915 US coin depicting Columbia and the American eagle

Columbia (a feminine form derived from the name of Christopher Columbus) is the traditional female personification of the United States. This name is also a nod to Jules Verne’s spacecraft “Columbiad” (from the 1865 novel From the Earth to the Moon), which was the name the Apollo-8 crew wanted to use for their historic Command Module.

The obverse of the Great Seal of the United States depicts a bald eagle carrying both an olive branch and a bundle of arrows in its claws, symbolising war and peace

The bald eagle is, of course, the symbolic bird of the United States, depicted on the Great Seal of the United States and the National Coat of Arms. It also appears on the seal of the US Department of the Air Force – and Col. Aldrin and Col. Collins are both USAF officers.

And a Symbolic Mission Patch
The association of the eagle with the United States is a motif that also occurs in the design of the Apollo-11 mission patch. In fact, the deciding factor in selecting the name “Eagle” for the Lunar Module was the patch design already under development, that depicted an American bald eagle landing on the Moon.


Mr. Armstrong’s backup, Captain Jim Lovell, is credited with originally suggesting the symbol of an eagle on the mission patch.

Some early sketches for an Apollo 11 patch were prepared by Allen Stevens of Rockwell International, who has been involved with the development of several Apollo mission patches, but Astronaut Collins seems to have had a major role in the final design.

Allen Stevens early designs for the Apollo-11 patch incorporated the names of the crew and the Roman numeral XI

Col. Collins found a depiction of a bald eagle in a National Geographic book on birds that he considered ideal – the eagle with its wings partially folded, swooping down with its talons extended.(left) A beautiful eagle painting by National Geographic Society staff artist Walter A Weber, first published in the July 1950 issue of National Geographic magazine, was re-used and re-oriented (below) for the book that inspired Michael Collins

Tracing the picture, Collins then sketched in the Moon’s surface to give the impression that the eagle was landing, and included an image of the Earth in space in the background above the eagle’s right wing. In the final patch design, the eastern seaboard of the United States and parts of the northern portion of South America are visible on the globe, with a scattering of white clouds over the blue oceans.

As the design evolved, the crew decided on a departure from previous patch designs, leaving off their own names so that the patch could be said to represent all the people involved in the mission, not just the astronauts. Since Armstrong felt that the Arabic number ‘11’ would be more easily understood around the world, the use of the Roman numeral, or Collins’ suggestion of writing out “eleven” were both dropped as design elements.

An interim step towards the final mission patch design

Images and Impressions Matter
NASA simulator instructor Tom Wilson suggested that the eagle carry an olive branch, as a symbol of the United States’ peaceful intentions in landing on the Moon.

The olive branch was added to the design, depicted as being carried in the eagle’s beak. To round out their design, the three astronauts selected a naturalistic black for the sky, with blue and gold edging around the around the outside of the circular patch.

NASA illustrator James Cooper produced the finished artwork for this design. However, when the crew submitted it for approval, it was rejected on the basis that the eagle’s powerful talons, extended stiffly below it, were "too warlike", and might give a wrong impression in our Cold War environment, where propaganda imagery matters.

Recalling that in the Great Seal, the eagle carries an olive branch in one set of talons, the olive branch was switched from the beak to the eagle’s claws. Although Col. Collins expressed the thought that “the bird looked a little uncomfortable” depicted in this way, the design was approved and became the official mission patch.

Artist James Cooper hands over the finsihed version of the final artwork for the Apollo 11 patch to Astronaut Collins

Tracking Apollo to the Moon
For the previous Apollo missions, I hadn’t written in any detail about the worldwide NASA tracking network that will be following every second of Apollo-11’s voyage to the Moon and back. Time to fix that, as none of the lunar missions would have been possible without it.

NASA’s global Manned Space Flight Network (MSFN) will be constantly monitoring the flight, using the resources of 17 stations, 4 ships and the 8 aircraft that form the Apollo Range Instrumented Aircraft (ARIA) fleet.

Map showing the MSFN deployment for Apollo-11's Trans Lunar Injection. The irregular circles mark the reception areas of each tracking station, ship or aircraft

Three MSFN stations – at Goldstone in California, Honeysuckle Creek, near Canberra, Australia, and Fresnedillas, near Madrid, Spain – were specifically constructed to support the Apollo missions, being deliberately sited close to existing stations in NASA’s Deep Space Network (DSN) so that the two networks could work together for lunar operations.

The MSFN tracking station at Goldstone, California

Working Together
The DSN facilities at Goldstone, Canberra and Madrid (which have similar 85ft dishes to those used by the MSFN), will be shadowing the MSFN stations to provide back-up, as well as complementing spacecraft communications at the Moon. During the period when the Columbia and Eagle will be operating independently – with the CM in lunar orbit, while the LM transports Armstrong and Aldrin to the lunar surface and back and during their surface activities – the DSN facility will support tracking and communication with one spacecraft while the MSFN station supports the other.

The "Pioneer" DSN antenna at Goldstone, with its "Apollo Wing", housing the equipment added to support Apollo missions

In addition, for the planned live television broadcast from the lunar surface during the LM crew’s historic first Moonwalk, the new 210ft antenna at Goldstone is anticipated to be the prime receiving station for the signals from the Moon, with the Parkes Radio Telescope in Australia providing back-up. I’ve mentioned the Parkes telescope previously, in conjunction with the Our World global satellite television broadcast, but what is not generally known is that the design of this 210ft radio telescope was, in fact, the prototype on which the new 210ft dishes of the DSN are based.

The Parkes Radio Telescope, photographed on the evening of Apollo 11's launch

The new "Mars" 210ft antenna at Goldstone

A Tough Training Schedule
It’s hard to believe today that when Alan Shepard made the first Mercury spaceflight, he had only conducted 150 hours of mission simulations. Given the critical nature of the Apollo-11 flight, Armstrong, Aldrin and Collins worked 14-hour days, 6 days a week for a full 6 months before the mission. They each spent over 1,200 hours in simulators wrestling with a continuous stream of missions, frequently peppered with emergencies, equipment malfunctions, and potential catastrophes to test their knowledge, skill, and coolness to the limits.

Armstrong and Aldrin practicing their lunar surface activities

CMP Collins concentrates during a session in the LM simulator

Col. Aldrin during survival training at the U.S. Air Force Air Defense Command Life Support School in Texas

It's well-known that Mr. Armstrong has demonstrated his coolness in emergency situations. Not only did he successfully bring the stricken Gemini-8 safely back to Earth, in May last year, he survived the crash of a Lunar Landing Research Vehicle and shortly afterwards was back at work in his office at the Manned Spacecraft Centre as if his narrow escape had not occurred!

Scientist-Astronaut Dr. Harrison “Jack” Schmitt, a professional geologist, also worked extensively with the Apollo-11 crew, preparing them for lunar rock collecting. After such thorough preparation, the astronauts surely know every twist and turn of the normal and emergency operational procedures, as well as every capricious component of the spacecraft’s 26 subsystems.

Mr. Armstrong and Col. Aldrin on a geology field trip at Sierra Blanca, Texas

Bringing It All Together
Apollo-11’s Lunar Module, LM-5 and its Command and Service Modules, CSM-107, arrived at Kennedy Space Centre in January. LM-5 has several differences from Apollo 10's Lunar Module, customising it for an actual landing on the Moon. These include: a VHF radio antenna to facilitate communication with the astronauts during their time on the lunar surface; a lighter ascent engine and more thermal protection on the landing gear. The LM is also carrying a scientific instrument package – the Early Apollo Scientific Experiments Package (EASEP), which will be deployed on the Moon.

LM-5 being checked out at KSC prior to being installed for launch in in the Saturn-V

Apollo-11’s Saturn-V vehicle, AS-506, was rolled out of the Vehicle Assembly Building on 20 May, and transported to Launch Pad 39A while Apollo 10 was still on its way to the Moon. A countdown test was conducted between 26 June and 2 July, which went extremely smoothly, without any major issues – hopefully a good omen for the entire mission.

The Apollo-11 launch vehicle arrives at Pad 39A, in preparation for the historic flight

Avoiding Any Infections
To prevent the crew from picking up any infections that might lead to illnesses causing delays to the mission, since a brief visit home with their families (whom they will not see up close again after their release from quarantine in August if all goes to plan) for the Fourth of July holiday, the astronauts have been kept carefully isolated from all un-necessary contacts.

A dinner with the crew, proposed by President Nixon for the night before launch, was cancelled, while at their last press conference before the launch, Mr. Armstrong and Colonels Aldrin and Collins were stragetically placed on a platform so that air flowed from behind them towards the assembled press corps, in hope that this would keep any germs from the audience reaching the astronauts!

The Apollo-11 crew at their final press conference, hoping to avoid any germs!

At their final medical checks, all three astronauts were pronounced fit and ready for flight – so one assumes that the precautions worked as intended. 

Pre-flight Preparations
The final preparations for Apollo-11’s launch continued the now established pattern for Apollo missions, with an early morning wake-up for the crew, the traditional pre-flight breakfast of steak and eggs with Flight Operations Director Deke Slayton and the backup crew, followed by the ritual of suiting up. A small folding shovel with plastic sample bags were placed in the special pocket of Mr. Armstrong’s spacesuit, to be used should the astronauts’ stay on the Moon be cut short for any reason: at least they would return to Earth with a few lunar soil samples.

L. The Apollo-11 crew enjoy their traditional pre-flight breakfast; R. Suited and ready for space, the astronauts enter their transfer van for the ride to the launch pad

When the crew arrived at Pad 39A, the White Room crew chief, Guenter Wendt, greeted them holding a 4ft long "key to the Moon", which he presented to Neil Armstrong. Mr. Armstrong in turn gave Wendt a card reading, “Space Taxi ticket, good between any two planets.”

At three minutes and twenty seconds before launch, the countdown became automated, and over 450 personnel at the consoles in Launch Control Firing Room 1 turned their eyes to watching that very special Saturn-v leave the tower and soar into the sky.


A Million Spectators?
The Cocoa Beach Chamber of Commerce estimated that perhaps one million spectators would gather to watch the launch of Apollo-11 from the highways, beaches and waterways within the vicinity of Kennedy Space Centre. CBS news later reported that the number was closer to 300,000; local motel owners, charging rates as high as $65 a night, were reportedly disappointed. Nevertheless, the essentially uncountable number was still the highest ever to attend a space launch.

A crowd of spectators in Titusville, near KSC, ready to watch the launch

These spectators included a group from the American Poor People's Campaign demonstrating against the expenditure on space exploration, when people are going hungry in the United States. The Campaign director, Mr Hosea Williams, said the demonstration included hungry people from five southern States. “We're not against things like the space shot” he said, explaining the reason for their protest. "But there's been a miscalculation in priorities". NASA Administrator Paine agreed to host protesters as spectators at the launch. Awestruck, by the powerful spectacle of the rocket's launch, they prayed for the astronauts, despite protesting the mission itself.

Although President Nixon decided to watch the launch on television in the White House, Vice President Agnew and former president Johnson and his wife were among the VIP guests at the launch site. Other dignitaries at the launch included the Chief of Staff of the United States Army, four members of the Cabinet, 19 state governors, 40 mayors, 60 ambassadors and 200 congressional representatives. There were approximately 3,500 press, radio and television representatives: while the majority were from the United States, 55 other countries were also represented in the media contingent.

President and Mrs. Johnson, with Vice President Agnew, were among the VIPS watching the launch from Kennedy Space Centre, along with a huge press corps.

It is estimated that 25 million people tuned in to watch the launch in the US, while thanks to satellite communications, the lift-off was televised live in 33 countries, including Australia. Millions more around the world listened in to radio broadcasts of the launch.

Despite the late night timeslot of the launch here in Australia (11.32pm), thousands of households around the country stayed up to watch. Like many other parents, my sister and her husband roused their children from bed to join the viewing audience: they even sat their eight-month-old baby on the couch to watch. He may not remember it, but at least in the future he will be able to honestly say that he saw the launch of Apollo-11!

Lift off into History!
At last, on 16 July, at 9.32am EDT, Apollo-11 lifted off into history, rising slowly at first from the launch pad.  The three astronauts have reported that they were not aware of the moment of lift-off, but first felt a powerful thrust to their backs, accompanied by a distant rumble, sounding rather like a train. They were thrown left and right against their straps in spasmodic jerks as the 36 storey vehicle adjusted itself to wind effects, to keep on the planned course.


Within forty seconds the Saturn-V was travelling faster than the speed of sound, and the noise in the cabin dropped away. However, Commander Armstrong noted that those first 40 seconds of flight were uncomfortably noisy and rough, much worse than the Gemini Titan launches. He reported that he found it was hard to hear any voices in his earphones, even with his helmet on.

Twelve minutes into the flight, Apollo-11 entered a near-circular Earth orbit. Within 30 minutes, the astronauts were feeling so relaxed that they were playing with the onboard still and movie cameras as they plunged into the night over Tananarive. The powerful FPQ6 radar at the Carnarvon tracking station in Western Australia confirmed that Apollo-11 was in the planned parking orbit, and on the second orbit over Carnarvon, the Capcom at Houston gave the astronauts the “Go!” for the Trans-Lunar Injection (TLI) burn that would send Apollo-11 on the way to the Moon.

The FPQ6 radar at Carnarvon tracking station that confirmed Apllo-11's initial orbit. This MSFN station also relayed the TLI confirmation to the spacecraft

On the Way to the Moon

With the Apollo-11 crew now on their way to the Moon, I have no more photos from the mission to share, until they return to Earth with their film canisters hopefully filled with wonderful images from the flight.

To quickly summarise the activities since TLI, about 30 minutes post-TLI, Col. Collins performed the transposition, docking, and extraction manoeuvre, needed to free the LM for the voyage to the Moon. Since leaving Earth orbit, the Apollo-11 crew has quickly settled into routine. After the docking with the LM, they astronauts exchanged their bulky pressure suits for their more comfortable white Teflon jump suits and consumed a lunch of beef and potatoes, butterscotch pudding, and brownies washed down with grape punch.

The crew's first in-flight meal included beef and potatoes, made possible by the new thermostabilised wet pack container technique that is expanding the range of available meals for Apollo flights

During that first day in en route for the Moon, the astronauts said that the Moon didn’t seem to be getting bigger, although the Earth was visibly shrinking. At 11 hours and 20 minutes after launch, they settled down for a sleep period, about 2 hours early, made possible by the cancellation of a mid-course correction.

Television Tryout
Just before 23 hours into the flight, the crew’s second day in space began with a wake-up call from Houston. Then, at the 30 hour mark, there was a 50 minute trial television broadcast from the spacecraft using the omni-directional antennae, which was received at the Goldstone tracking station. This impromptu broadcast showed some spectacular colour views of the Earth, I'm told, and provided practice for the crew's first public television broadcast a few hours later. The astronauts also showed themselves “running” in their seats, while asking if the medical team was receiving their heartbeat data. Goldstone reported they could see the astronauts trying to run in their seats, and Capcom Charles Duke in Houston indicated that the medical telemetry was being received.

This marks the point at which I will have to complete this article to send it via telex to the Traveller, so we’ll pick up the second part of story of Apollo-11's great adventure once the mission has returned, hopefully safely and successfully from the Moon.

Just the Beginning
If Apollo-11 achieves all its mission goals, it will be just the first small step in the exploration of our local neighbourhood in space, the true beginning of our road to the stars. 

Neil Armstrong, who will soon become the first person to set foot on another world has said “I think we’re going to the Moon because it’s in the nature of the human being to face challenges. It’s by the nature of his deep inner soul…we’re required to do these things just as salmon swim upstream”. I think he’s right!






[July 16, 1969] Not all Jake(s) (July 1969 Galactoscope)

by Brian Collins

Aside from the stray short story I have to admit I had not read any of John Jakes’s novels, of which there have been many as of late—so many, in fact, that we folks at the Journey have not been able to cover every new Jakes book. Just this year alone we’ve gotten three or four Jakes novels, with at least one more already in the can as I’m writing this. So consider this a bit of “catching up,” for the both of us. Jakes started a new science-fantasy series a couple years ago with When the Star Kings Die, and this year he has put out not one, but two more entries in this series. For the sake of not overwhelming the reader, though, let’s just keep it to the first two entries… for now.

When the Star Kings Die, by John Jakes

A man on a horse-like creature with a spaceship in the background.
Cover art by Jack Gaughan.

Humanity has spread across the stars in what is called II Galaxy, with a planet-spanning league of aristocrats called the 'Lords of the Exchange' (the titular star kings) keeping things in check. The star kings are supposed to live for centuries, being near-immortal, but something has been leading these long-lived aristocrats to early deaths. Maxmillion Dragonard (a name I certainly did not pull out of a hat) is a Regulator, one of the enforcers for the star kings, who starts out imprisoned for a bout of intensely violent behavior but is soon freed on the condition that he investigates why the star kings are dying young. He soon travels to the planet Pentagon, a backwater home to little in the way of technology or civilization, but which seems to house the answer to the mystery; and there he gets involved with a group of rebels who go by the 'Heart Flag'. Dragonard’s sense of loyalty gets split between his allegiance to the star kings, personified by a mischievous spy named Kristin, whom Dragonard quickly falls in love with, and the leaders of the Heart Flag group, Jeremy and his sister Bel.

If you read certain passages out of context you might think you’re reading an adventure fantasy yarn in the Robert E. Howard mode, which Jakes is no stranger to, but overall this is much more evocative of Leigh Brackett’s planetary adventures—low on scientific plausibility but high on swashbuckling action. We have swords and daggers, but also blasters and “electroguns,” not to mention spaceships. Another thing carried over from both Howard and Brackett is this heightened sense of sexuality—or to put it less charitably, the fact that there are only two female characters of note in this novel, and both of them want to jump Dragonard’s bones. Jakes also can’t help himself when it comes to focusing on the women’s breasts, especially Kristin’s. In fairness, Dragonard is a man who has just been broken out of prison, and ultimately this is not a very serious novel. When the Star Kings Die was published in 1967, although the Journey didn’t cover it then; but if not for the publication date you might think it was printed in 1947, possibly as a “complete” novel in the likes of Startling Stories and other bygone pulps. It seems deliberately retrograde, but it’s unobtrusive so far as that goes.

This is a short novel, such that I’m actually surprised Ace didn’t bundle it with another short novel or novella. Even so, with just 160 pages Jakes is able to give us a future world, somewhat believable power dynamics among the parties, a few good villains, and a climactic battle that manages to take up a good chunk of the text. Kristin, despite being Dragonard’s main love interest, is absent for much of the novel, but to compensate his growing admiration for Jeremy and budding affection for Bel are given ample room to develop. The trio’s tenuous but promising relationship at the end of the novel is undermined, however, by the fact that when we did get a follow-up to When the Star Kings Die it was not a sequel, but instead a distant prequel.

This novel does a few things well, but not exceptionally well; and, let’s face it, we’ve been here before. It’s fine, but nothing special.

Three stars.

The Planet Wizard, by John Jakes

A dark knightly figure holding a double-bladed weapon in each hand.
Cover art by Jeff Jones.

Jakes’s ode to the sword-and-spaceship adventures of yore continues with The Planet Wizard, published just this year, although given that it’s about the same length as When the Star Kings Die I’m still a bit surprised it was not released as one half of an Ace Double. The Planet Wizard has a more focused narrative, and more than its predecessor it heavily uses the fantasy elements of the pulp material it’s clearly taking cues from; but even so it feels less like a full novel (certainly now that we have behemoths like Dune and Stand on Zanzibar in the field) and more like a somewhat constipated novella. I very much enjoy novellas myself, but not so much when they look bloated and could use a laxative.

Say goodbye to all the characters from that first novel, since here we’re jumping back over a thousand years in time; conversely all the characters featured in The Planet Wizard will have been long and safely dead by the time we get to When the Star Kings Die. Some cataclysmic event has pushed civilization across planets almost back to medieval times, with the planet Pastora having only a semblance of civilized humanity, with its sister planet Lightmark faring even worse. Superstition has taken over the minds of the masses. Swords and daggers have replaced firearms. Instead of spaceships we have “skysleds.” Magus Blackclaw (another name I did not just pull out of a hat) is a middle-aged “wizard” who lives with his beautiful daughter Maya. The problem is that Magus isn’t really a wizard, for magic doesn’t really exist in this world. Whilst on the run the two cross paths with a tenacious swordsman named Robin Dragonard, who as you may guess is an ancestor of the Maxmillion Dragonard of the first novel. Magus gets captured and put on trial, as a fraud; but the High Governors, the pseudo-Christian religious leaders of Pastora, have a proposition for Magus: go to Lightmark and rediscover the fallen commercial house of Easkod, and maybe these charges will be dropped.

Not only does Magus have to deal with the “Brothers” of Easkod, a league of mutated and vicious humans who watch over Easkod City, but the job to exorcize Easkod of its “demons” quickly turns into a race. Philosopher Arko Lantzman wants his hands on Easkod as an alleged treasury of technology that got lost after the cataclysm, while William Catto, a descendant of one of Easkod’s higher-ups (so he claims), wishes to return the house to its former glory. Given that this is a prequel to When the Star Kings Die, and thus knowing the basic history of the star kings themselves, you can guess the broad trajectory of The Planet Wizard. Given also that Robin (who sadly lacks the charisma of his descendant) will contribute to a bloodline that persists over a thousand years later, it’s safe to guess as to his fate. What keeps the tension alive is that unlike some prequels, wherein we already know the fates of the cast (a kind of dramatic irony granted to the reader), we’re unsure if Magus and Maya will come out of this ordeal unscathed. While Robin is a flatter character than Maxmillion, Magus is a rather fun protagonist, being a middle-aged confidence man who nonetheless does care deeply for his daughter, and goes above and beyond to rescue her when she inevitably gets kidnapped.

In a sense The Planet Wizard complements its predecessor, and I’m not sure if Jakes intended one to be the other’s both opposite and equal. Not better, nor worse, but at least different enough to not feel like a repeat. I do recommend both—if you can find copies below the retail price.

Three stars.



by Victoria Silverwolf

Initial Response

Two rip-roaring novels of space adventure fell into my hands recently, both by authors who use two initials instead of first and middle names. (Yes, I notice trivia like that.) Let's take a look.

Escape Into Space, by E. C. Tubb

Prolific British writer Edwin Charles Tubb (E. C. to you!) has been reviewed several times by Galactic Journeyers, including your not-so-humble servant. He usually earns three stars, once in a while a bit more. Will his latest novel earn him another C or C+ on his report card?


Wordiest cover I've ever seen. Pardon the lousy image.
I must have held the cameras at a bad angle.

A project to launch the first starship is under way, funded by the American government. What the boys and girls in Washington D. C. don't realize is that the folks behind the project believe that humanity is doomed to be wiped out by radioactivity. (There are hints that there have been a few limited nuclear wars, as well as a lot of atomic tests.) They plan to escape and find a world to colonize.

Meanwhile, a would-be dictator and his followers plan to stop the starship, by force if necessary. Don't worry about this subplot, because the vessel manages to leave Earth very early in the book, not without a lot of bloodshed.

(This brings up an odd thing about the book. The protagonists are just about as bloodthirsty as the antagonists. They're ready to destroy an entire community in order to launch the starship. Besides that, a lot of the folks aboard were literally kidnapped, forced to be colonists against their will.)

Pretty soon the escapees find a livable planet, which they name (with heavy irony) Eden. In addition to huge, deadly animals, the place has something in the atmosphere that ensures that any woman giving birth and her child will die.

The book has still barely started. A lot more goes on. There's an attempt at mutiny. There's the mysterious disappearance of the first probe to land on the planet, and its equally mysterious reappearance.

The author throws a lot at the reader, often at random. Some subplots don't lead anywhere. For example, we've got an attempt to activate the brain of a dead scientist in order to extract his knowledge. This is just dropped, and doesn't change anything. The whole thing reads as if it were written as quickly as possible, with a completely improvised plot.

Two stars.

Secret of the Sunless World, by C. C. MacApp

American writer C. C. MacApp also has a fast hand at the typewriter, often showing up in If. He's been reviewed a lot here, generally getting three stars. Sometimes less, sometimes more. (Sounds a lot like Tubb, doesn't he?) Will his latest novel be below average, above average, or just plain average?


Cover art by John Berkey.

Wait a minute! I hear you cry. I thought we were talking about MacApp, not this Capps person!

Yep. C. C. MacApp is actually Carroll Mather Capps in real life. If you'll open the book, you'll see it's been copyrighted in the name of C. C. MacApp. Don't ask me why his real name is on the cover.

Anyway, our hero is an Earthman who caught an alien disease somewhere in space. Before killing him, it's going to make him blind. The good news is that some friendly, semi-humanoid aliens are willing to take him to a place where he can be cured, if he undertakes a mission for them. (The aliens recently arrived in the solar system and have the knowledge of faster-than-light travel, but haven't let humans in on the secret.)

His mission is to track down a renegade alien who kidnapped an alien scientist and stole a powerful piece of ancient technology from a species of extraterrestrials who vanished long ago. In order to do this, the aliens take him to a planet without a sun (hence the title) which is able to support life due to its internal heat.

His contact is a multi-tentacled space pirate with two snake-like heads. This roguish character takes him to a hospital, where a spider-like surgeon operates on his eyes.

Wouldn't you know it? There's a catch. The pirate blackmailed the surgeon into doing something to our hero's eyes so that he needs routine treatment with a certain chemical in order to keep his vision. As a side effect, the operation gave him the ability to see clearly in almost total darkness, even able to perceive radiation. This makes him a very useful tool of the pirate on this planet without natural illumination except starlight.

The guy goes along with the pirate, while also spying on him. Meanwhile, the local inhabitants of the planet spy on both him and the pirate. (There's a lot of spying in this book.) The renegade alien and the kidnapped victim show up, as well as other aliens intent on conquest.

I've only given you a synopsis of maybe half the novel. There are plenty of complications in store. The hero winds up on yet another planet, and finds out about the ancient vanished aliens.

The main difference between Tubb's book and this one is that McApp's is much more tightly plotted. There aren't any pointless subplots. As a bonus, the octopus-like pirate is an enjoyable character, usually several steps ahead of the hero. Not the most profound story ever told, but competent entertainment.

Three stars.



by Tonya R. Moore

The Palace of Eternity, by Bob Shaw

The Palace of Eternity is the first of Bob Shaw’s works that I’ve read. Shaw is a man of many talents, having worn a myriad of hats from taxi-driver to structural engineer and aircraft designer. He has added writing fiction to his repertoire with works such as The Two Timers, Night Walk, and his breakout short story, "Light of Other Days."

The Palace of Eternity is set in a distant and turbulent future where humanity has discovered FTL space travel, taken to the stars, and struggles to weather the onslaught of violent attacks from an alien species known as the Pythsyccans.

The protagonist, Mack Tavernor, is a battle-hardened former soldier who had been orphaned when the Pythsyccans devastated his childhood home. Naturally, Tavernor doesn’t view the Pythsyccans in a positive light but he also seems disillusioned enough with humanity to keep his own kind at arm’s length.

The Pythsyccans attack Mnemosyne, an idyllic, almost utopian world dubbed a haven for writers, artists, and other creators of varied talents. Tavernor, naturally, takes up arms against the invading enemy and dies in battle. This is where the story takes an interesting turn.

After shucking this mortal coil, Tavernor encounters the egons, a non-corporeal race of cosmic beings whose very existence is threatened by the proliferation of humanity’s FTL-ramjet technology, the Butterfly Ships. Tavernor, the newest egon, gets another lease on life, inhabiting the body of a newborn human child named Hal. The goal of his mission, to somehow interfere in the war between the humans and Pythsyccans in order to save the endangered egons.

The Palace of Eternity is a fantastic and eloquently written and fast-paced story that fires on all pistons where the things about science fiction that excite me are concerned. And yet…somehow, though, this book failed to move me. For all its eloquence and imaginativeness, I found myself unable to feel strongly about the characters and events of this story. It failed to fill me with a sense of wonder, even amidst the wondrous imagery. At first, I couldn’t put my finger on why.

It wasn’t just that much of the story felt glossed over—and probably should have been explored in greater detail. My main source of dissatisfaction was with the story’s main character’s development.

Mack Tavernor is admirable. He's truly a man's man in all the ways a man ought to be a man. Yet, I could not bring myself to either like or dislike him. At no point did I become emotionally invested in the things that happened to and around him. In short, as a protagonist, Mack falls flat. Lacking the kind of depth and complexity that makes fictional characters feel real in my mind, he is like soda pop that has lost its fizz.

Had Mr. Shaw given The Palace of Eternity the extent of thought and care it deserved, the book could have turned out to be a true phenomenon. It is, indeed, still an excellent and worthy read. Even so, I feel it's almost a tragic waste of the author's very clear intellect and truly wondrous imagination.

4 out of 5



by Jason Sacks

Rockets in Ursa Major, by Fred Hoyle & Geoffrey Hoyle

This is my first encounter with the fiction of the British cosmologist Fred Hoyle. A prominent astronomer with a long tenure at the Institute of Astronomy in Cambridge, Hoyle is perhaps best known for a slew of rather controversial opinions. For instance, Dr. Hoyle has rejected the idea of the Big Bang, and for many years has promoted the idea that life on Earth began in the stars.

Yes, he is an eccentric, but Dr. Hoyle is quite a genius, really; a thoroughly unique figure and someone I would really enjoy meeting.

Dr. Hoyle is also a prominent science fiction writer. In collaboration with his son Geoffrey, he recently authored Rockets in Ursa Major, a thoroughly entertaining, if too brief, science fiction yarn reminiscent of the sort of thing which John W. Campbell might have published. If your kind of space fiction involves brilliant and fearless scientists battling bueaucracy and evil aliens, Rockets in Ursa Major is your kind of book.

I kind of giggled a bit when I realized the main characterof Ursa Major is a deeply accomplished and slightly eccentric scientist and that the book is told in first person – do you look in the mirror a bit too much, Dr. Hoyle?  As the story begins, the genius Dr. Richard Warboys is at a very boring professional conference when surprising news pops up on the telly: a spaceship which has been lost for thirty years has suddenly reappeared, streaming towards Earth’s atmosphere.

Only a brilliant scientist can help the ship land! And only a brilliant scientist can help discover the ship's great secret of invading alien species! And only a brilliant scientist can fly a seeming suicide mission to battle those invaders! And only a brilliant scientist can figure out a complicated way to use solar flares to defeat those invaders! And, you guessed it, only a brilliant scientist can then fly towards the sun, release those solar flares and save our planet.

Are you shocked if I tell you that scientist's name is Dr. Dick Warboys?

So, yes, the plot of Rockets in Ursa Major is pure wish fulfillment: the 54-year-old Dr. Hoyle cast a genius scientist aged in his mid-30s as the man who basically singlehandedly saves Earth. And it’s all rather silly.

Dr. Hoyle

But Rockets is all tremendously fun, too, in that marvelously light-hearted way one might imagine Campbell publishing next to a Heinlein juvie or van Vogt brain-twister. I’m not sure if it’s the influence of the younger Mr. Hoyle the author, but this book moves at a kinetic speed, with almost too many twists and turns in its breathless style (I’m not sure why we needed a sequence in which Dr. Warboys breaks into the research college by stealing a boat and running through tunnels, for instance).

At the end of this book, the Hoyles hint at the possibility of a sequel. I would enjoy another thoroughly light-hearted and thoroughly indulgent visit with Dr. Warboys.

3 stars.

Timescoop, by John Brunner

John Brunner is one of the most prolific science fiction authors of the latter half of this decade, to the extent that it sometimes feels hard to keep up with his work. I’ve always enjoyed Brunner’s work, which often manages to tread a fine line between smart concepts and exciting action. And I was a huge fan of his grand step into literary science fiction, the remarkable Stand on Zanzibar.

This month sees the release of a new Brunner, called Timescoop, but the zines are already reporting the autumn '69 release of another Brunner novel, called The Jagged Orbit [Actually, it's already been released—the Autumn release is a re-release (ed.)]. Based on the blurbs, Orbit sounds like another book of strong literary ambitions.

Timescoop, however, is not a novel of strong literary ambitions. It’s a goof, a novel in which Brunner played with some clever ideas and delivered a quick little satirical piece. Timescoop clears the palette between works of deep seriousness.

Our protagonist here is one Harold Freitas III, a self-obsessed inheritor of his family’s fortunes who is looking to live up to the legacy his father, recently deceased, has left to him.

Fortunately for Freitas, an amazing invention called the Timescoop has been invented, and he has control of it. The Timescoop can bring anything forward in time and allow it to live in the book’s present. Thus the Venus de Milo and Hermes of Praxiteles can exist  – with their original arms – and so can people.

Imagine the Hermes – with arms – in a private house near you!

Looking to make a mark with publicity, Freitas brings forward nine of his ancestors in time and brings them to a family reunion broadcast throughout the galaxy. After all, men of the past were men of great virtue and character and the future world can learn from their insights. But… as one character states prophetically… “How much do we really know about these people? One always looks at the past through rose-colored –"

So Freitas brings forward nine of his ancestors – a steadfast medieval king and a medieval Crusader and a 17th century British merchant and a fire-and-brimstone preacher and a female cowboy, among others – and readies them to face the world and make Freitas famous.

But be careful what you wish for, and especially be careful what you create. Because these ancestors are not the good people Freitas wishes they could be. They are pederasts and nymphomaniacs, gluttons who are covered with filth and who have ancient racist attitudes. One even indulged in the slave trade.

Mr Brunner

Most of this is played for laughs, and it’s easy to imagine someone like Peter Sellers or Alec Guiness playing all the roles in a film adaptation, taking on silly voices while someone like Peter Cook keeps rolling his eyes at the chaos.

But there is also a small element of satire, a small joy at bringing down the rich and pompous and allowing their obsessions to blow up in their faces.

Timescoop is another quick little novel, and at a mere 156 pages it doesn’t wear out its welcome. But this is clearly Brunner relaxing and doing a small warmup for his next literary work.

3 stars.



Light a Match


by George Pritchard

Light a Last Candle, by Vincent King

In my first conversations with the Traveller, I was warned that some of the works I would cover here would be unpleasant. This is my first, and it does not even have the decency to be memorably terrible (Ole Doc Methuselah by L. Ron Hubbard), or bland yet competent (One Against Herculeum by Jerry Sohl). Light A Last Candle is knockoff Heinlein, wrapped in knockoff Doc Smith and shot through with attempts at imitating Bester.

Our main character is one of the few remaining humans on a planet. There’s “Mods” — modified humans — which our main character doesn’t like. Like a low-energy Gully Foyle, he doesn’t like anyone or anything very much. He doesn’t have a name, our main character, nor does “the girl”. She’s lucky, as all other female figures are called Breeders. The character our main character can stand the most is an old, fatherly figure simply referred to as Rutherford. They are the only two original humans, Free Men, left on the planet, which is mostly under the mind control of the Aliens, and their Mod slaves…or are they?

Social commentary is attempted, as are twists, and like in The Devil’s Own by Nora Lofts, the revelations provided to the reader are ultimately shallow. The more they appear, the more insignificant they are revealed to be. The Devil’s Own is in fact a rather poor comparison; since that is a fine book. In truth, the story Light A Last Candle most reminds me of is Cat-Women of the Moon (1953), with its clunky twists, bland characterization, pervasive male chauvinism, and failing to convey travel in a story that is ostensibly all about traveling. Distance is compressed like an accordion, details are skipped over, days pass offhandedly when we could be learning more about anything we are reading. This ultimately becomes a paucity of both showing and telling, which certainly is new to me. Like Star Man’s Son by Andre Norton, the book centers around bringing the reader to encounter different cultures in this alien future. Like The Weirdstone of Brisigamen by Alan Garner, that travel also takes place in tight, dangerous caves. In both of those books, however, distance and time were characters in themselves. You felt the pressure of travel, the hard work the characters put in, their sense of purpose.

The only talent that really appears throughout the work is a pervasive sense of disgust, of fleshy horror that I know William Hope Hodgeson in The Derelict and Arthur Machen in The Three Imposters did better sixty years ago. I think it's this author's first book, but his grouchiness is beyond his years.

I am writing this review as quickly as possible, because after finishing this book less than a half an hour ago, it is rapidly leaving my mind. I have filled this page with references to other works, so that the reader may enjoy books much better than this one.

One star.






[July 14, 1969] Odyssey On Two Wheels (Easy Rider)


by Victoria Silverwolf

I've talked about my inexplicable interest in movies about motorcycle gangs a couple of times before.  Naturally, when I heard about a new biker film that's drawing a lot of attention, I had to take a look.

The fact that it won an award at the prestigious Cannes film festival gave me a hint that this wasn't going to be the usual trashy B movie about guys on choppers getting into fights.

Let's meet our two main characters.  I hesitate to call them heroes, because the first thing we see them do is buy cocaine in Mexico, then sell it to a rich guy in a limousine.  They hide the cash in a plastic tube inside the gas tank of one of the motorcycles.

Peter Fonda, who produced and co-wrote the film, plays Wyatt, often known as Captain America.  He usually plays it cool, not saying much, keeping a calm demeanor most of the time.

Dennis Hopper, who directed and co-wrote the movie, plays Billy.  He's much more emotional, often giggling and playing the clown, sometimes nervous and jumpy.

Once these two have their grub stake, they head out on a journey from Los Angeles to New Orleans for Mardi Gras.  Along the way they meet all kinds of people. 

The first encounter is with a friendly rancher and his family.  So far, everything seems just fine.  You can almost forget that these two are drug dealers.

After riding through some really gorgeous scenery in the American West, often accompanied by groovy rock music, they pick up a hitchhiker.  He's on his way to a hippie commune in the desert.

The place is full of young adults who have dropped out of society.  There are also lots of little kids.  To add to the chaos, there's also a troupe of mimes and other performers.

We see folks sow seeds of grain in what looks like bare ground.  Billy predicts that the commune is doomed to fail, while Wyatt is more optimistic.  After skinny dipping with a couple of young women, they move on.

In some little town they join a parade in progress, just for fun.  That gets them in trouble with the cops.  Thrown in jail for parading without a license, they meet the film's most memorable character.

Jack Nicholson plays the town lawyer, who's in the drunk tank.  You may remember him as the masochistic dental patient in The Little Shop Of Horrors.  He was hilarious in that low budget comedy, and he's as much of a hoot in this role.  I predict he'll continue to steal every film in which he appears as a fine comic actor.

After Nicholson gets the two bikers out of jail, he joins them on their trip to the Big Easy.  It seems he's heard about a fancy bordello in New Orleans and would like to visit the place.  Along the way they try to get a bite to eat at a little diner in some other small town.

The young women present admire them.  They dare each other to ask them for a ride on their bikes.

The men in the diner aren't so friendly.  They openly insult the trio.  Wisely, the three quickly head out the door, refusing to take the women along.  Despite their caution, things don't work out well.  Let's just say that Nicholson won't make it to New Orleans.

Wyatt and Billy wind up at the brothel, where they engage the services of two prostitutes.  As far as I can tell, they don't actually have sex with them.  Instead, they go outside to join the Mardi Gras celebration, then head out to the famous above ground cemetery of the Big Easy.

Among the tombs, the four share a dose of LSD Wyatt picked up from the hitchhiker.  This leads to our mandatory acid trip sequence, making use of all kinds of special effects in an attempt to portray the psychedelic experience.

Those of you who are like me, and rush out to see movies about today's longhaired, drug-using nonconformists (hipsploitation?), may be reminded of The Trip from a couple of years ago.  That one also starred Fonda and Hopper, and has a screenplay credited to Nicholson.  Like Easy Rider, The Trip uses visual distortion to convey the experience of dropping acid.  (Taking LSD, for you squares.)

The film ends in a melodramatic fashion.  Suffice to say that trouble arrives in the form of two guys in a pickup truck.

I said that Fonda and Hopper wrote the film, along with Terry Southern (best known for his work on Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb) but I doubt there was much of a script at all.  Much of the action and dialogue seems improvised.  The mood varies, seemingly at random, from peaceful to comic to tragic.

There's not a lot of plot.  Much of the running time consists of the characters riding on their motorcycles with loud music on the soundtrack.  (In particular, the rousing number Born to Be Wild is destined to be played at full volume by lots of people on fast bikes or in fast cars.)

The cinematography, whether it be of desert wilderness, small towns, or the Big Easy, is excellent.  Some may consider Easy Rider to be shapeless, but I found it to be an intriguing portrait of the counterculture in opposition to the mainstream of society.  (See the recent article by my esteemed colleague Kris Vyas-Myall for a more profound discussion of the theme.)

Head out on the highway.

Five stars.






[July 12, 1969] Paco Rabanne and the Theater of War

Be sure to join us today (July 13) at 9:15 AM PDT (5:15 in London) for BBC's broadcast of the first episode of Star Trek!


by Gwyn Conaway


Paco Rabanne posing with the circular chainmail that has swept Futurist fashion. The style needs no label as it's immediately recognizable as his revolutionary work.

NASA has set its sights on the moon, and their journey is mere days away.

The dead heat of summer has fallen upon us like a humid hug. We fan our sun-kissed skin and drink iced tea from sweating glassware. We crave the artificial breeze of a car ride and press damp rags into our necks. And despite our discomfort, our American breath is frozen in our lungs. Our conversations of anything else have dwindled to distracted murmurs and canceled plans.

I find myself preoccupied with broadcasts and newspapers, my mind muddied with what-ifs and what-thens. It all circles back–one revolution after another–to a single designer and how his first couture line managed to change the course of fashion from the runway to the street. How will he view the coming weeks?

Paco Rabanne.


From Rabanne's "Twelve Unwearable Dresses," 1966.


This first couture collection borrows heavily from the Byzantine period with plate mail and lamellar armor elements, giving his mail dresses an Athenian allure.

Rabanne created his first couture line only three years ago. “Manifesto: Twelve Unwearable Dresses in Contemporary Materials” showed in Paris in 1966, and forever changed the fashion landscape for women. Until that moment on his runway, industrial materials had been relegated to the theatre of war in the forms of chainmail and lamellar armor, among other notable defensive garments.

These days, though, I wonder… Is fashion not also part of the theater of war? Propaganda is considered so, which suggests public perception is a weighty tool of any nation. What better way to proclaim the perfection of one’s ideals than through beauty?


Rabanne designed this in spring of 1969. Note how it mirrors much of the shape language of the height of the Crusades from the 11th to 13th centuries, and Bedouin niqab. This speaks both to the Crusades and the recent Six-Day War in the Middle East.


An example of German hauberk chainmail in the eleventh century.


A Bedouin woman in Sinai, Egypt wearing a niqab adorned with coins sometime between 1900-1920.

Paco Rabanne seems to have reached the same conclusion as me. Though his mother was a chief seamstress for Balenciaga and followed the designer to Paris when he was five, his father was executed during the Spanish Civil War. Of course, I can’t imagine the impact of violence at such a tender age, but politics and doom are common themes of Rabanne’s public statements regarding his own reincarnation and prophecies. Both he and Salvador Dali–who run in the same circles, so I’m told–explore the idea of utter destruction in intimate artistic detail. A political endeavor in and of itself.

So it’s no surprise to me that Paco Rabanne’s construction techniques rely heavily on pliers rather than sewing needles. His unforgiving poeticism armors the modern Cold War woman as if she herself were not just a prize of war, but an active participant.


Francoise Hardy in Rabanne, 1960s. She walks with an air of severity through stately rooms flanked by officers, signaling her authority and power. The untouchable quality of Rabanne's models enhanced their otherworldly power, emulating godly women of history such as Athena, Cleopatra, and Joan of Arc.

Which brings me to one of his most recent masterpieces. Le 69, affectionately known as the Moon Bag, is constructed in the same fashion as his metal and plastic mail dresses with heavy steel. Supposedly inspired by a French butcher’s apron that dates back to the medieval period with a strap made from a toilet-flushing chain, I wonder terribly what his personal feelings are on this accessory. Given our current moment in history, I can’t help but equate it with the covetous nature of the Space Race. Who will get there first? What happens when someone wins the race?

The answer to the first question is imminent. Women will now and for many years carry the “Moon” in their hands as if we have the right to possess it.


Rabanne's "Le 69" Moon Bag.

Paco Rabanne is aware of the inherent violence of his design language. In fact, he has explicitly stated it. “My clothes are like weapons. When they are fastened they make a sound like the trigger of a revolver.” And though many critics cite his architectural background as the reason for his exceptional choices in material and technique, his motivations seem to go deeper than that.

As the Apollo 11 launch approaches, perhaps Rabanne is asking the same questions. What happens when our adversaries see the Moon in our hands?

My only hope is that the doom he feels looming in his prophecies remains there.






[July 10, 1969] Sex!  Now That I Have Your Attention . . . (August 1969 Fantastic)


by Victoria Silverwolf

Back In The U.S.S.R.

A few days ago, folks in the Soviet Union must have been surprised to see nudity on their television sets.  Nude scenes from the controversial new play Oh, Calcutta! and photographs of sex magazines appeared on one of the Soviet Central Television networks.

The intent was not to titillate the audience (although that may have been an accidental side effect) but to point out the decadence of American culture.


The Soviet station's logo.  You didn't expect me to show you the nudity, did you?

What does this have to do with the latest issue of Fantastic?  Keep your hat (and other clothing) on and you'll find out.


Cover art by Johnny Bruck.

As usual, the cover is (ahem) borrowed from a German publication.


The original always looks better.

Editorial, by Ted White

The new editor introduces himself.  He relates how he failed to produce a fancy, expensive magazine called STELLAR Stories of Imagination.  Some of the stories intended for that stillborn publication will appear in Fantastic and Amazing.  He also promises to provide what he calls different stories in the magazines.  We'll see.

No rating.

What's Your Excuse, by Alexis Panshin

Here's a tale that was supposed to appear in STELLAR. A professor plays a trick on a graduate student who is in his late twenties, but who appears to be in his teens.  The student has his own secret up his sleeve.

It's hard to say too much about this brief yarn, which depends entirely on its premise.  Is it different?  Yeah, I guess so.  Is it good?  Well, maybe not.  A trivial oddity.

Two stars.

The Briefing, by Randall Garrett

Another very short story.  The narrator is aboard a spaceship.  He's about to be sent down to a planet in disguise, in order to shorten an impending Dark Ages.

Without giving away anything, let's just say that you may be able to predict the twist ending.  Extra points for being a bit of a dangerous vision, at least.

Three stars.

Emphyrio (Part Two of Two), by Jack Vance

Taking up half the magazine is the conclusion to this new novel. 


Illustrations by Bruce Jones (obviously.)

We first met our hero, Ghyl Tarvoke, with his head literally cut open.  His brain controlled by those holding him prisoner, he was forced to tell the truth.

This led us into a long flashback, from Ghyl's childhood until he decided to run for mayor under the pseudonym of Emphyrio, the name of a semi-legendary hero.

Part Two begins with Ghyl losing the election, but coming in third.  That's enough to draw the attention of the authorities.  Ghyl's father was already in trouble with them, and the situation only gets worse.

After the death of his father, Ghyl agrees to join his friends in a plot to steal a starship from the Lords and Ladies who rule his world.  He makes them promise not to do any killing or kidnapping or pillaging after this single crime.  Don't expect any honor among thieves.

Ghyl winds up leading a group of Lords and Ladies through the wilderness of another planet.  The place is full of dangerous animals and people.


Out of the frying pan and into the fire.

He is eventually captured (leading back to our opening scene of interrogation) and sentenced to exile.  However, there are a lot more adventures ahead, as he discovers the truth about the Lords and Ladies, and about the real Emphyrio.

Last time I said that the novel was very good, but maybe a bit leisurely and episodic.  It turns out that incidents I thought were of little importance have great significance.  I underestimated the intricacy of the author's tightly woven plot. At least I acknowledged his ability to create complex, imaginative worlds and cultures.

Five stars.

On to the reprints!  They all come from old issues of Fantastic.  Apparently the new editor prefers to avoid taking things from Amazing Stories and Fantastic Adventures, which may be a good thing.

Let's Do It For Love, by Robert Bloch

The November/December 1953 issue is the source of this farce.


Cover art by Vernon Kramer.

A guy invents some stuff that makes folks love everybody.  The narrator is a public relations agent who tries to promote the wonderful chemical.  Too bad nobody wants universal siblinghood.


Anonymous illustration.

There's a touch of satire, of course, but this is mostly just a silly romp, full of wacky jokes and tomfoolery.  If that's your thing, fine.  The way the story deals with the inventor's shrewish wife may not please too many readers.

Two stars.

To Fit the Crime, by Richard Matheson

This ironic tale comes from the November/December 1952 issue.


Cover art by Barye Phillips.

A curmudgeonly poet insults his relations in creative ways as he lies dying.  In the afterlife, he faces an appropriate fate.


Illustration by David Stone.

There's not much to this except for the poet's way with words.  The unpleasant fellow's version of perdition may cause some amusement.

Two stars.

The Star Dummy, by Anthony Boucher

The Fall 1952 issue provides this lighthearted story.


Cover art by Leo Summers.

A ventriloquist imagines that his dummy talks to him.  Oddly, that's not really what the story is about.  It actually deals with a goofy-looking alien, newly arrived on Earth, looking for his vanished mate.  The extraterrestrial and the ventriloquist wind up helping each other.


Illustration by Tom Beecham.

This is mostly a comedy, of a very gentle sort.  One unusual aspect of the story is that it also deals with the ventriloquist's religious faith.  There's some discussion of science fiction itself as well.

Slightly eccentric, moderately entertaining.

Three stars.

Fantasy Books, by Fritz Leiber and Ted White

Leiber discusses three new novels that add explicit sex to science fiction plots.  (I told you I'd get to that!) For the record, the trio consists of The Image of the Beast by Philip Jose Farmer, The Endless Orgy by Richard E. Geis, and Season of the Witch by Hank Stine.  Leiber gives them mixed reviews, but welcomes the new frankness with which they describe sexual behavior.

The editor offers a long, glowing review of Isle of the Dead by Roger Zelazny.  I liked it, too.

No rating.

The Hungry, by Robert Sheckley

Back to reprints.  This one comes from June 1954 issue.


Cover art by Ernest Schroeder.

A malevolent thing preys upon the negative emotions and physical suffering of a young married couple.  Only the baby of the family and the pet cat can see it.  The infant does what it can to help.


Illustration by Sanford Kossin.

Told from the viewpoint of the baby, this is an offbeat little story.  Minor, but nicely done.

Three stars.

The Worth of a Man,by Henry Slesar

The June 1959 issue supplies this grim tale.


Cover art by Ed Valigursky.

A veteran of a future war has much of his body replaced with metal parts.  He talks to a psychiatrist about his sense that somebody is out to hurt him.

Of course, his supposed paranoia is more than a delusion.  What happens to him is disturbing, which is apparently the author's intent.  I found it to be a powerful and all-too-plausible chiller.

Four stars.

Fantasy Fandom, by Ted White and Bill Meyers

I wasn't even going to discuss, let alone rate, this new column from the editor, in which he intends to reprint writings from fanzines.  However, the first one knocked me out.

First published in Void, White's own fanzine, the essay by Meyers relates the writings of J. R. R. Tolkien to the author's childhood.  It's a thoughtful, elegantly written piece, not so much about Tolkien as it is about the way that our early years influence how we react to literature.

I may be prejudiced in its favor, because Meyers grew up in the Chattanooga area, where I currently reside.

Five stars.

The Naked Truth

That was a very mixed bag of an issue.  One excellent novel, one excellent essay, stories old and new ranging from below average to above average.  You might want to skip some of the lesser pieces and go see a play instead.


The cast of Oh, Calcutta! You didn't expect me to show you the nudity, did you?






[July 8, 1969] Nowhere fast (August 1969 Galaxy)

It's Moon fortnight!

We are broadcasting LIVE coverage of the Apollo 11 mission (with a 55 year time slip), so mark your calendars. From now until the 24th, it's (nearly) daily coverage, with big swathes of coverage for launch, landing, moonwalk, and splashdown.

Tell your friends!

Broadcast Schedule

photo of a man with glasses and curly, long, brown hair, and a beard and mustache
by Gideon Marcus

The Warm War

If you, like me, are a regular watcher of Rowan and Martin's Laugh In, you might be excused for having a rather simple view of the current situation in the Middle East.  According to that humorous variety show, Israel devastated the armies of its Arab neighbors in June 1967, and (to quote another comedian, Tom Lehrer), "They've hardly bothered us since then."

It's true that the forces of the diminutive Jewish state took on Egypt, Jordan, and Syria, like David against Goliath, smiting armies and air forces in just six days, ultimately ending up in occupation of lands that comprise more area than Israel itself.

But all has not been quiet…on any front.  Hardly had the war ended that both Israelis and Arabs began trading significant shots.  A commando raid here, a bombing mission there, a naval clash yonder—none of it rising to the level of a mass incursion, but nevertheless, a constant hail of explosives.  Last summer, Egyptian President Nasser, eager to recover prestige he lost in the '67 debacle, declared a "War of Attrition".  The fighting has escalated ever since.

Just the other day, the Egyptians and Israelis exchanged artillery fire across the Suez Canal—the current de facto border between the nations—for twelve hours.  Two Israelis were wounded; the Egyptians are keeping mum about any of their losses.  Last month, Israeli jets buzzed Nasser's house in Cairo, which Jerusalem claims is the reason for the recent sacking of the Egyptian air force chief and also Egypt's air defense commander.


Israeli mobile artillery shells Egyptian positions

The United Nations views this conflict with increasing concern, worried that it might expand, go hot, and possibly involve bigger powers.  The Security Council this week is working on a resolution calling for an arms embargo against Israeli unless the state abandon its plans to formally annex East Jerusalem, taken from Jordan two years ago.

It seems unlikely that the Knesset (the Israeli Parliament) or Prime Minister Golda Meir will buckle to foreign pressure, however.  Nor can we expect that President Nasser, Jordan's King Hussein, or the coup-rattled government of Syria to be particularly tractable either.  The beat goes on.

Same ol'

One generally looks to science fiction for a refreshing departure from the real world, but as the latest issue of Galaxy shows, sometimes you're better off just reading the funnies.


by John Pederson Jr.

The White King's War, by Poul Anderson


by Jack Gaughan

A while back, John Boston noted that Dominic Flandry, an Imperial Officer serving during the twilight of the intragalactic Polesotechnic League, has become a James Bond type, or maybe a Horatio Hornblower.  Basically, he's Anderson's stock character when he wants some kind of adventure story set against the impending Dark Ages of his interstellar setting.  The results are a mixed bag since the tales are less about Flandry and more about whatever nifty astronomical phenomenon Anderson wants to showcase this month.

This time, Flandry, who has just been promoted Lieutenant j.g.  On the backwater planet of Irumclaw, a two-bit crime boss named Leon Ammon offers him a million if he'll go out of his way to survey a planet reputedly rich in heavy metals.  Flandry takes the gig, and since Ammon insists on having one of his mooks accompany him, Flandry opts to have his chaperone be female.  The trip is more fun that way, you see.

The journey takes us to the hostile world of Wayland, a tidally locked moon of a big gas giant.  Airless, except for when the sun sublimes the methane and carbon dioxide ice that comprises Wayland's surface, it nevertheless (and surprisingly) teems with life.  Flandry's scout, Jake, is waylaid by birds and forced to land.  Now, Flandry and his companion, Djana, must trek across the frozen wastes of Wayland to reach an abandoned, sentient mining computer, which just might have the facilities needed to repair Flandry's vessel.

Along the way, we learn that the hostile "life forms" are really robots, and that the old computer just might be responsible for Wayland's unique "ecosystem"…

Unlike a lot of Anderson's work (and certainly the last Flandry story), this piece was pretty interesting.  Sure, the characters are paper thin, but again, this story isn't meant to showcase character.  If you want that kind of story in the same setting, try "A Tragedy of Errors" from last year.

Three stars.

Starhunger, by Jack Wodhams


by uncredited

Starships have been plying the local constellations for decades, but despite the investigation of 31 systems, nothing even vaguely Earthlike has been found.  One last expedition goes out with nought but a forlorn hope.  Even with three systems on the schedule, it is doubtful that the unlucky streak will end—especially since the scientists on board, who want to meticulously evaluate every inhospitable rock, are at odds with the star hungry Captain, who wants to find the next Earth.

This is not a great story, consisting mostly of repetition ad nauseum of the scientist/captain struggle.  However, I did like a couple of things:

1) The notion that terrestrial planets are actually rare.  That's not a common theme in science fiction, and I feel it more likely than the converse.

2) The conflict between a simple, focused mission and a balanced, scientific endeavor is something the Ranger Moon program suffered from, with Rangers 3-5 failing largely because they tried to do too much.  Once NASA focused on just hitting the Moon with a camera, they had three out of four successes.

Three stars.

The Minus Effect, by A. Bertram Chandler


by Jack Gaughan

Speaking of ongoing characters, John Grimes, the spacefaring alter-ego of author (Australian Merchant Marine Captain) A. Bertram Chandler, gets another chapter of his life fleshed out in this tale.  Well, sort of.

Lieutenant Grimes has gotten his first command: a Serpent class courier boat with a crew of six.  On this particular mission, he has been tasked with transporting a VIP.  Mr. Alberto is a strange person, an extremely talented chef, but also something of a cipher and very physically fit.  After Alberto is delivered to the planet of Doncaster, his unusual nature is revealed.

There's not much to this story, and there's no SFnal content at all—at least none that isn't discardable.  It could have taken place in the '60s as easily as the 3060's.

A high two stars.

When They Openly Walk, by Fritz Leiber


by Jack Gaughan

Ages ago, Fritz wrote a cat's-eye view story of Gummitch the suburban feline artist called Kreativity for Kats.  In this long-awaited sequel, we follow Gummitch and his adopted little sibling, Psycho the kitten, as they interact with their family and a bonafide UFO.

It's an adorable piece, spotlighting the inner life of housecats (and demonstrating what I've known my whole life: that cats are clearly Earth's other sentient race).  It reminds me a bit of an episode of Ge Ge Ge no Kitaro I caught in Japan last year, in which cats take over a village and are (properly) revered.

Four stars.

Life Matter, by Bruce McAllister


by Jack Gaughan

In the far future, mankind, mutated by hard radiation, has developed a sentient heart.  Normally, there is an Operation for humans who reach the 21st year of life, the year that the heart begins communicating with the mind in earnest.  The biological heart is replaced with a silent, artificial pump.

Some refuse to lose their heart, pursuing a life of coronary freedom.  But is it really the romantic prospect literature would have us believe?

Like most of Bruce's work, it's a lyrical, metaphorical piece, but not quite as moving as he'd like it to be.  Fans of Bradbury may be more impressed than I was.

Three stars.

I Am Crying All Inside, by Clifford D. Simak


by uncredited

This is a kind of mood piece reminiscent of James Blish's "Okie" stories.  In a flurry of starflight, the cream and even the bulk of humanity has left its homeworld, leaving behind a wretched refuse of humans and robots.  The folk left are essentially poor Appalachians.  The people, as the robots call themselves, are the antiquated and damaged specimens.  Crying is told from the point of view of one of the robots, a farmer, who is at once the lowest of the low, and also the highest.

Fine but incomplete.  Three stars.

For Your Information (Galaxy Magazine, August 1969), by Willy Ley

Our German expat educator explains how ELDO (the European Space Agency) is planning a Jupiter mission.  There are special considerations like how to power the probe so far from the Sun, and how massive the craft can be depending on the rocket.

Interesting, but short.  Three stars.

Dune Messiah (Part 2 of 5), by Frank Herbert


by Jack Gaughan

Last time began the continuation of the story of Paul Atreides, now Paul Muad'dib, Mahdi of a galaxy-wide crusade against the old Imperial order.  Paul, now thirty, sits unsteadily on the Arrakeen throne—endless factions are arrayed against him, and his favored Fremen consort has borne no heir, this the deliberate result of being unwittingly sterilized by Irulan, an Imperial princess, and Paul's other consort.

Foreseeing that a child of Irulan's will spell Paul's doom, he avoids consummating their marriage.  On the other hand, this makes him vulnerable to the allures of his…sister.  Yes, Alia, born a saint and fully sapient from being in the womb of her mother when she overdosed on the precognition-enabling spice "melange".  She's 15, fights mechanical foes in the nude, and is excessively nubile.  As it turns out, an incestuous coupling is exactly what Gaius Helen Moiham, Reverend Mother of the Bene Gesserit (the organization that is trying to dominate the galaxy through selective breeding) wants, as it foretells ultimate genetic victory.

Meanwhile, members of the Navigation Guild, whose members use spice to navigate hyperspace, want to break the Arrakeen monopoly on the stuff, so they're trying to sequester elements of the Dune planet's biology to start up their own production.

In a final twist, the resurrected form of Duncan Idaho, one of Paul's old sword-companions, begins an affair with Alia.  But this ghoule, who goes by the name Hayt, says he is to be the intrument of Paul's destruction, so maybe this isn't a great development either.

It's all so glacial and pretentious and filled with things that rub me the wrong way: aristocracy, eugenics, fantasy masking as science fiction.  (And it's printed in smaller type face to make it both less readable and more dense.) I really don't like this book.  Frankly, I'd give it one star, but I guess I appreciate how hard Herbert is trying. 

On the other hand, John Norman tries, too, and we don't even review his books anymore.

Two stars, but I'm guessing the work as a whole is going to get one when it's all over.  Bleah.

Rescue Team, by Lester del Rey

A vignette about first contact in a time when humans and robots have become one and the same species.

Kind of pointless.  Two stars.

The New New Frontier

Fred Pohl was editor of Galaxy for almost a decade, taking over from H. L. Gold when he got sick and couldn't do it anymore.  Now he's out, and I'm still waiting for the shoe to drop: to see how different Galaxy gets under the new regime of Ejler Jakobsson.  The biggest new thing is the Dune serial, but Pohl might have bought that anyway.  It's not as if Herbert has been absent from the mag.  I guess we'll see where things are in a year.

All I can say is I hope things get better.  As with the war in the Levant, the status quo is getting us nowhere fast…






[July 6, 1969] Everybody's talking about Revolution, Evolution… (The Making of a Counter Culture by Theodore Roszak)

If the title for this article sounds familiar, it's because you've heard the (just released) single from John Lennon and Yoko Ono's "bed in".  The Beatle and his new bride are living examples of Counter Culture.  But just what is "Counter Culture"?  Theodore Roszak has thoughts…and Kris has thoughts on those thoughts!


By Mx Kris Vyas-Myall

The Making of a Counter Culture: Reflections on the Technocratic Society & Its Youthful Opposition by Theodore Roszak Hardback Cover

All fixed, fast-frozen relations, with their train of ancient and venerable prejudices and opinions, are swept away, all new-formed ones become antiquated before they can ossify. All that is solid melts into air, all that is holy is profaned…

The Communist Manifesto, Karl Marx

Your sons and your daughters
Are beyond your command
Your old road is rapidly agin'
Please get out of the new one
If you can't lend your hand
For the times they are a-changin'

The Times They Are A-Changin', Bob Dylan

A spectre is haunting the campuses of the West, the spectre of the counter culture. All the powers of the Technocrats have entered into a holy alliance to exorcise this spectre.

Wait, you may well ask, I thought this was a contemporary review, not a poor pastiche of a 120-year-old piece of political economy? However, this is the central speculation of Theodor Roszak in his latest book: that these are the core oppositional forces of our time.

But what is the Technocratic Society and what is the Counter Culture?

Everything you think, do and say, is in the pill you took today

In the case of the former, Roszak sees Technocracy as the governing by experts from a certain class with the aim of a routinised control over human interaction. This can be observed in our democratic political system where the two main parties in most Western nations usually are not concerned with creating vastly different Utopian systems. More often, it is a competition of seeming the most competent to deliver state run social services, defence and economic growth. Even in the Soviet Union, there is not much talk these days of instituting a worldwide proletarian revolution, compared with speeches on improving the efficiency of grain harvests or increasing housing stocks.

Black and White photo of Robert McNamara behind a set of microphones and in front of a map of Vietnam
Robert McNamara, Technocrat Extraordinaire

The technocrats themselves are rarely the presidents or prime ministers; they are merely the salesmen. Roszak sees them as the upper-level bureaucrats or the studious quiet men of the cabinets. Robert McNamara is a prime example of this tendency, moving between running Ford Motor Company, the World Bank and the US Defence Department and applying the same philosophy, one he outlined in his recent book, The Essence of Security:

…the real threat to democracy comes, not from overmanagement, but from undermanagement. To undermanage reality is not to keep it free. It is simply to let some other than reason shape reality…Vital decision making, particularly in policy matters. This is partly, though not completely, what the top is for.

You may well ask, what is the problem with this? Well, Roszak outlines the tecnocratic viewpoint thusly:
1. All problems are purely technical in nature, and, therefore, if it is not technical, it cannot be a problem. Depression -> More Pills. Rioting in the cities -> More police.
2. Their end is always the right end and any friction against this is a lack of communication. This can be solved by the Marketplace of Ideas.
3. However, the only people who can truly understand these principles and implement them are this technocratic elite. And, it just so happens, that a good sign that you are one of those qualified to understand these issues is that you are already a part of the governmental or corporate structure.

Ad for Playboy with the tagline "Waht sort of man reads Playboy", with a photo showing a man on a boat reading Playboy whilst he is surrounded by women in bikinis
Want Sexual Promiscuity? Buy A Boat!

And he does not see New Authoritarianism as only occurring in government business but creeping into all aspects of life. Take the example of Playboy, which appears at first to be approving of sexual permissiveness; but, in reality, the articles and photos create an association between sex and wealth for men, whilst reducing women to men’s playthings: making half the population repress themselves whilst striving to reach these elite heights, whilst the other half become accepting of this attitude by the rich and powerful. This viewpoint can be seen again in the trial of Lady Chatterly’s Lover where the argument of the prosecution was:

Is it a book you would even wish your wife or your servants to read?

In fact, Roszak goes further, to state there is a mystification that has happened in the technocracy. Where, in the best Orwellian manner, language is used to obfuscate reality. Where the bombing in Vietnam is referred to as an “escalation” or dictatorial communist regimes refer to themselves as “democratic republics”. If an individual challenges this, the technocrats will merely dismiss them as not understanding the complexity of the issue.

So, what is the solution for this? Well that comes in its opposition.

God is Alive, Magic is Afoot

Black and white photo of a protest to legalise marijuana, at the front is Allen Ginsberg holding a sign that says "Pot is a reality kick"
Allen Ginsberg protesting to legalise marijuana

Counter Culture appears to be derived from the term “contraculture”, defined by Yinger in 1960 as:

wherever the normative system of a group contains, as a primary element, a theme of conflict with the values of the total society, where personality variables are directly involved in the development and maintenance of the group's values, and wherever its norms can be understood only by reference to the relationships of the group to a surrounding dominant culture.

This, though, is almost a decade older and could be seen as merely a standard part of society, like the Bright Young People of the Jazz Age. And the young have usually been the radicals. For example, in 17th Century England, many of the radical protests were led by the London Apprentice Boys, the militant student movement of the day. So what is the difference between the rebellions of yesteryear and the counter culture of today?

The difference is two-fold. First off, the traditional left-right axis does not really create an opposition to technocracy but a support of it. The communist, the fascist and the liberal all accept the need for rational efficiency and control of life by an elite, whether that be the bureaucrat, the camp commandant or the head of a Fortune 500 company. So even the most aggressive of demagogues are no longer opposing the technocracy, merely wishing to be a part of it.

Painting: The Disquieting Duckling by Asger Jorn
Showing a pastoral watecolour which has, on top of the picture, been painted a giant duckling in children's style in a manner of rainbow colours
The Disquieting Duckling by Asger Jorn

Secondly, the theories behind the opposition are not predominantly coming down from the elite but up from artists. Early examples include Situationists like Asger Jorn or Beat Poets like Allen Ginsberg, who themselves draw more from the tradition of Blake and Children’s Art than Joyce and Van Gogh. See for example Ginsberg’s Howl:

Moloch whose love is endless oil and stone! Moloch whose soul is electricity and banks! Moloch whose poverty is the specter of genius! Moloch whose fate is a cloud of sexless hydrogen! Moloch whose name is the Mind!

Black and White photo of a protest by Students For A Democratic Society, holding up signs saying:
"Refuse to pay taxes for Vietnam"
"Liberalism in the pursuit of fascism is no virtue"
"End Johnson's war on peasantry"
"LBJ, the lesser Evil?"
"End All Foreign Intervention in Vietnam"
"LBJ: The Myth of American Liberalism"
"Escalation Means Nuclear War"
Protest by Students For A Democratic Society

The reason, Roszak claims, this opposition is taking root within the youth movements is also a feature of the technocracy. As the bureaucracy of business has grown bigger and the need for rigid routine labour has diminished, intellectual thought is more valuable among workers. Therefore, experts like Dr. Spock have pushed parents away from regimented childcare towards exploration, and governments have moved children away from the factory floor to longer and longer periods of education. When this kind of student is suddenly ordered to cut his hair and put on a uniform to join the army or the corporation, he naturally rebels against it.

Whilst Roszak acknowledges there is no manifesto of the nebulous group but that what is required is:

…the subversion of the scientific world view, with its entrenched commitment to an egocentric and cerebral mode of consciousness. In its place, there must be a new culture in which the non-intellective capacities of the personalities – those capacities that take fire from visionary splendor and the experience of human communion – become the arbiters of the good, the true and the beautiful.

How will this be achieved? One area Roszack has little time for is the overuse of psychedelics. Whilst he acknowledges they may have use for skilled practitioners:

There is nothing whatever in common between a man of…experience and intellectual discipline sampling mescaline, and a fifteen-year-old tripper whiffing airplane glue.

In fact, he sees the current expansion of psychotropic drugs as having more in common with the technocracy, promising a quick granting of insight that is only superficial and built on a few getting rich whilst causing unhappiness to the many. No different to the barbiturates or alcoholic beverages marketed to the masses.

The actual means for this "subversion" to come about are nebulous. Rather, he sees that this will be developed over time through such concepts as the “Politics of No-Politics” and the de-centralised Utopian thought of Paul Goodman.

The Armies of the Night

Protestors putting flowers in the guns of military police
Protestors putting flowers in the guns of military police

Roszak goes through a number of different facets of the counter culture and their opposition to the technocratic rationality, from anti-schools to trying to levitate the Pentagon. I have to wonder sometimes if the free-wheeling rejection of rationality extends to his writing. I consider myself reasonably well-read and knowledgeable, but I found myself reaching for dictionaries and other reference material (or just plain scratching my head) trying to understand what he was talking about. He tends to work best in generalities, when he is (to steal a phrase for Kant) critiquing pure reason. When he goes into specifics, such as an entire chapter looking at how Marcuse and Brown attempt to reconcile Marx and Freud, Roszak moves away from insightful investigation to navel-gazing.

He spends some time comparing this movement to nascent Christianity and, by extension, suggesting how this movement over time could change the mode of Western thought. There is one problem I have with this, one he even acknowledges in passing: the fact that people enter and depart with ease and that there are a lot of tourists involved. This is not just the more egregious examples, like Burberry selling expensive imitations of Chinese Communist Army uniforms. Mick Jagger, an LSE drop-out with a public drug bust under his belt seems like the perfect candidate for the Counter Culture. But, whilst he may sing that “the time is right for violent revolution” or “my name is a number, a piece of plastic film”, the group is reportedly planning to tour the US with major venues and able to charge high ticket prices, and he seems just as at home among the accoutrements of wealth as any banker.

Overall, "The Making of a Counter Culture" is interesting as polemic and critique, for, as Roszak puts it:

What is of supreme importance is that each of us should become a person, a whole and integrated person in whom there is manifested a sense of human variety genuinely experienced, a sense of having come to terms with a reality that is awesomely vast.

But as prophecy? That is for the young to show us.

Four Stars






[July 4, 1969] When Joey goes over the top… (Avalon Hill's Anzio)

photo of a man with glasses and curly, long, brown hair, and a beard and mustache
by Gideon Marcus

It's kind of a funny thing.  There are two feelings about war these days.  On the one hand, you've got the war in Vietnam raging without end despite LBJ resigning and Nixon running ostensibly to end the thing.  Now National Security Advisor Henry Kissinger is pleading for patience from those who say peace is taking to long.  "Come back in a year," he says.  It's no surprise that, in addition to innumerable protests and chart-topping songs, we've even got a wargame devoted to dissent: Up Against the Wall Motherfucker.

But "war" also conjures up other, less controversial, memories.  The veterans of World War 2 are my age—affluent and nostalgic.  We recently celebrated the centennial of the Civil War, which while bloody, shaped these United States we know today.  It's no surprise that the bulk of commercial wargames have been set in these two eras…with WW2 the big favorite: Chancellorsville, Gettysburg, D-Day, Stalingrad, Guadalcanal, Battle of the Bulge, Afrika Korps, Midway.

Avalon Hill is currently the leading publisher of wargames, generally coming out with one or two new ones every year (along with a handful of "family" titles).  Their latest, just released in April, is Anzio, and it's something of a revolution.

In 1943, flush with victory after kicking the Nazis and Fascists out of Africa, and having conquered the island of Sicily, it was pretty obvious where the Western Allies (mostly the United States and the Commonwealth) would attack next.  After all, France was still well guarded as Festung Europa, so a cross-channel invasion was not yet in the cards.  And so, Operation Avalanche was born: an amphibious invasion of the southwest Italian city of Salerno. 


U.S. Army engineers haul a roll of wire mesh into position to make a beach roadway at Salerno, September 1943. USS LST-1 is in the center background (USA C-276).

In short order, southern Italy had been liberated, and the Germans had arrayed themselves along an unbreakable "Volturno Line". That's when the Allies tried to break the stalemate with a landing near Rome at Anzio beach.  That beachhead stalled for months until May 1944, when, accompanied by a big aerial push, the Allies managed to take the Italian capital.  That didn't end the war, though—the Germans just installed a puppet government in northern Italy and fought a delaying action until the Nazi surrender in May 1945.

As a result, the bloody Italian campaign is kind of an historical footnote.  Did it shorten the war by tying up troops?  Or was it just a meatgrinder for GI Joes and Tommies? 

Anzio doesn't answer these questions, but it does an excellent job of recreating the experience!

On the surface, it's just another WW2 wargame.  We've gotten strategic games covering the Eastern Front (Stalingrad) and the Western Front (D-Day) and the African Front (Afrika Korps), so it is only natural that the next one would cover the Italian Front.  Anzio even follows the Stalingrad pattern—using a key battle as the label for a multi-year, theater-wide conflict.  And if you just play the basic game rules, it's pretty much every other Avalon Hill wargame, with a hex grid for movement rather than the traditional squares, little chits representing military units, a combat results table, and dice for determining said results.

But it's in the advanced rules that the differences really come out.

The biggest is the new way in which combat is resolved.  In previous games, when units moved up next to each other, they had to fight.  You totaled up the combat strengths of the opposing sides, figured out the odds ratio, rolled a die, and determined the result using the Combat Results Table.  The result would be a retreat (one side or the other had to back away a certain number of spaces), or elimination of one or more units, or an exchange: smaller side destroyed, and an equal number of strength points removed from the larger side.

But now*, instead of a binary Alive/Dead situation, each unit has several diminished states.  Each adverse combat results in a "step-loss", where a unit loses some, but not all, of its strength.  This is much more realistic.  Reinforcement is done realistically, too, represented by actual raw troop units with no attack strength of their own, but which can be added to depleted units to restore strength.

*It has been pointed out that the step-loss system was actually introduced in Blitzkrieg, which I had forgotten, and also appears in last year's 1914, which I never played. But, in any wise, Anzio is the first game to really implement it in a meaningful way, I think.

This means that you get realistic situations—attackers rail against a line, slowly diminishing the defenders' strength, until they become too weak to hold, and then they must fall back to regroup.

Where Anzio isn't innovating, it's adopting the best features of its predecessors: from D-Day—the Allies get to choose from a number of invasion beaches, which keeps the Germans guessing; from Blitzkrieg (and Afrika Korps)—units can be moved en masse by sea from place to place; and of course, similar movement and combat rules to most of its ancestors so that picking up the basics of the game is a snap.

Indeed, I was surprised at just how easy it was to pick up this game, despite it having the longest rules set to date—even longer than Blitzkrieg's, I think.  There are some confusing bits, like it took us a while to realize that combatants suffer double losses when attacking defenders on favorable terrain, which makes attacks even more difficult.  But on the whole, despite the dizzying array of rules, it's not bad at all.

To be fair, we didn't play with the really gritty rules like Italian troops (who fight for both sides, natch) and really finicky stacking rules (every member of the Commonwealth seems to have a different size!) but they don't seem to change gameplay much.

Which leads us to the eternal question (paraphrasing the fellow from the Folger's Crystals commercial) "How does it play?!"


"Well, play it!"

Pretty well!  The Young Traveler and Trini played the Axis, conferring each turn on the best defensive strategy.  Trini noted that, of all the games she's played to date, this one felt the most immersive—that she was really a general taking all sorts of considerations into account.

Janice and I teamed up as the Allies, and it was rough.  There really is no quick way to do anything, and we had quite a lot of bad rolls at the beginning.  We weren't even able to take Naples in the many hours we played, which is the linchpin to success in southern Italy as it frees up forces to make another amphibious invasion.

Ultimately, it's a slow slog of a game.  The Allies must be patient, but also master the art of threatening multiple invasions at any given time.  As for the Axis, there are no daring Rommel or Manstein thrusts to undertake.  It's all about skillful retreats; if you're attacking, you're probably making a mistake…or the Allies have pulled quite the boner.

But it's definitely a beautiful game with a lot of fascinating new developments.  Certainly, there's nothing like it on the market, in style or subject.  If you've played out D-Day, and you've got a long weekend…or a string of short ones, this is a great game to take out for a spin.






[July 2, 1969] Merging streams (August 1969 Venture)


by David Levinson

Joining the mainstream

Every Sunday, the New York Times publishes a list of the best selling books of the last week. It tends to be a mix of high-brow, literary novels and potboilers—especially spy thrillers—along with the occasional gothic romance and a mystery once in a blue moon. But to the best of my knowledge, it’s never had a science fiction novel prior to this year. As of the latest list, it has not one but two, both of which have been reviewed here at the Journey. There’s even a third that could be said to have sfnal elements if you stand on your head and squint a bit.

In its tenth week on the list and slipping one spot to number six is Kurt Vonnegut’s Slaughterhouse-Five. Of course, Vonnegut is none too happy about his work being labelled science fiction. Meanwhile, Michael Crichton’s The Andromeda Strain hit the list for the first time in eighth place. The potential third novel is Vladimir Nabokov’s Ada, or Ardor, which seems to be set on an Earth exactly like ours with a slightly different history or on a counter-Earth on the other side of the sun. Other than that, there doesn’t seem to be much science fiction in the plot, so I’m not really inclined to include it.

Does this mean our beloved genre has finally hit the big time? Probably not. As I said, Vonnegut doesn’t want to associate with us, and I wouldn’t be surprised if Crichton thinks of his book as a thriller. (I could be wrong, but that’s how it’s being marketed.) 2001 did all right at the box office, but was panned by critics (including some SF critics). Star Trek has been canceled, leaving Land of the Giants—a show so bad it makes Lost in Space look smart—the closest thing to SF on television. But just maybe the boundaries are weakening, even if we wind up having to sneak in the back door with those who won’t acknowledge us.

Sophomore or sophomoric?

The second issue of Mercury Publishing’s second attempt at Venture SF is on the stands. How is it? Well, before we crack it open, let’s look at the outside.

More geometric shapes and color washes. Art by Bert Tanner

If the last issue could be mistaken for a horror magazine, this one could easily be taken for a mystery. That’s probably the eye. Dell used to use an eye looking through a keyhole as the logo for their mysteries (and maybe still do; it’s been a while since I bought one), and this is very reminiscent of that. The best thing about the outside of the magazine continues to be the title logo.

The League of Grey-eyed Women, by Julius Fast

Diagnosed with terminal cancer, a desperate Jack Freeman will grasp at any straw. A Canadian doctor has had some small success injecting rats with artificial DNA, but his studies are nowhere close to being ready for human experimentation, no matter how much Jack begs. His beautiful, pale-eyed assistant, however, is willing to bend the rules, since she and the many women with gray eyes she knows have their own agenda. The treatment may cure Jack’s cancer, but it may kill him in other ways. It will certainly change his life.

This confused mess makes sense if you’ve read the book. Art by Bert Tanner

If the name Julius Fast sounds familiar, you may have read one of his well-received mysteries or one of his non-fiction books such as the one on Human Sexual Response by Masters and Johnson or last year’s book about the Beatles. (That or you’re thinking of Howard Fast, who wrote Spartacus, among many other things.) He’s not a complete stranger to SF, so he doesn’t make a lot of the mistakes that many mainstream authors do when trying to write our stuff.

That said, there are parts that don’t hold up if you think about them too hard. Some of those may be better propped up by things that were cut from this condensed version; others make no sense at all. Still, the narrative pulls the reader along, even despite Jack being a fairly unpleasant person early on. There’s enough here to make it worth reading, but you might want to see if your local library has a copy rather than spending your own money.

A solid three stars. The complete novel may come in a little higher, but probably not enough for another star.

With Ah! Bright Wings, by Edward Wellan

Pollution seems to be in the news more every day. In the last two weeks alone, the Cuyahoga River in Ohio caught fire (and not for the first time) and a pesticide spill in the Rhine caused a state of emergency in West Germany and the Netherlands. What if there’s more behind it than just industrialization and a lack of concern by the government and the companies producing most of the pollution? It’s an old theme in SF, but Wellan has come up with a moderately new twist. Unfortunately, the telling is as dry and dusty as the two UN bureaucrats who are the story’s protagonists.

A high two stars.

Bradbury on Screen: A Saga Perseverance, by F.E. Edwards

It’s no secret that Ray Bradbury loves the movies. He’s written a few, and several of his stories have been adapted for the big screen, but many more have never made it into or out of production. Those that do have not served the source material well. This article follows the career of Bradbury and his work in Hollywood. Interesting but inconsequential.

Three stars.

Dragon in the Land, by Dean R, Koontz

Over the years, the focus of the military has shifted to biological warfare. A virus escaped from a Chinese lab and is so devastating it brought down the Communist government. The American doctor heading the Analysis and Immunization team that is part of the military intervention in the country must struggle with his own sense of inadequacy, which stems from growing up in the shadow of his Nobel laureate father.

Plumbing the depths of the bombed-out lab. Art uncredited

Imagine if The Andromeda Strain had ended badly and someone had to enter the ruins of the lab to find the original team’s notes; that’s the action of this story in a nutshell. I don’t think Koontz has cribbed from Crichton. The timing of the two stories makes that nearly impossible, but it implies that both men have done their homework.

I keep saying that Koontz is getting close to breaking through. This might be it. It’s certainly the best thing he’s written so far. If he can maintain this level of depth and quality, he’s going to be a big name.

Four stars.

Project Amnion, by Larry Eisenberg

A story in the style of a magazine article on efforts to teach children in the womb, it ignores countless aspects of human physiological development, not just in the brain, but the whole body. Eisenberg has apparently never met a baby. The nicest thing I can say bout this one is that at least it’s not an Emmett Duckworth story.

A low two stars.

Pithecanthropus Astralis, by Robert F. Young

A caveman questions the wisdom of the elders and breaks the rules. While this piece lacks the saccharine romantic elements that have often led me to complain about Young (who has been largely silent in the last few years), it also lacks the positive elements that his past stories have had.

Two stars.

Summing up

Elsewhere in the issue, there’s a weak Feghoot and a word scramble to see how well you know your -ologies. The condensed novel is decent, and there’s one other good story, but the rest is trivial to terrible. The cover is bad and not designed to sell the magazine, and there still isn’t much in the way of promotion over in F&SF. If things don’t turn around soon, this incarnation of Venture isn’t even going to last as long as the 10 issues of the first go-round. Let’s hope things improve in the fall.






55 years ago: Science Fact and Fiction