[Oct. 22, 1960] Frice said and done.  (The fourth Kennedy/Nixon debate)

Contrary to the Bard's assertion, one can have too much of a good thing; I'm not sure that the fourth Nixon/Kennedy debate entertained anyone, except perhaps the Trumanesque moderator, ABC's Quincy Howe.

That is because the candidates had exhausted themselves of platitudes and nitpicky facts, leaving naught but tired repetitions of previous debate points. Here's a brief summary of what was addressed at last night's all-foreign policy debate.

Both candidates fairly squandered their opening statements. Communism as the main enemy of the United States was the theme of Nixon's preamble. He repeated his assertion that 600 million souls had fallen behind the Iron Curtain during Truman's administration while virtually none had during the Eisenhower administration. Kennedy preempted the speech he'd planned to give to respond to Nixon's charge, and he dredged up the same points he'd made in the last debates: that Eisenhower let Cuba fall to Communism, and that a neglected Africa is on its way, too.

The debate did have a few interesting highlights, however. Nixon was asked if he was only taking such a strong stance on the defense of Quemoy and Matsu (two insignificant islands off the coast of Red China currently claimed by Formosa) just because his opponent has not. The Vice President said that the accusation was totally false…and then said he'd drop the whole matter if Kennedy changed his position. Kennedy declined.

On the topic of Cuba, Nixon endorsed a queerly dovish policy: embargo Cuba, and the people will eventually topple Castro, he said. Kennedy strongly disagreed, and he urged active American support of anti-Castro Cubans, domestic and exiled.

On the issue of national prestige, Nixon assured his audience that American is doing just fine, and that any blows to our country's image are Kennedy's fault for being so unbalanced in his attacks. With regard to the space race, Nixon may be right–we've had, as he said, 28 successful space shots to the Soviet's 8. We just never achieve the spectacular first. I guess, 'Being #2, we try harder.' But when the Vice President talked about our high prestige in Latin America, well, color me unconvinced. The rocks and eggs which pelted Nixon when he visited Peru and Venezuela in 1958 weren't flowers.

Kennedy countered simply, "I look up and see the Soviet flag on the moon." He may be referring to Luna 2, or he may be predicting that the Communists will get there first. Either event points up a Soviet superiority in boosters (i.e. missiles), at least for the moment.

When asked which region of the world would receive stronger focus in his administration, the Senator suggested Eastern Europe. This surprised me given his calls for greater ties with Africa and Latin America, but perhaps he meant 'in addition' to those regions he'd already mentioned. Specifically, Kennedy singled out Poland as a possible candidate for pulling from the Soviet grasp. Truth to tell, I did not know that Poland was vulnerable to such endeavors given that they share a border with the Soviet Union. I was impressed by the Senator's articulation on this point.

I was not, however, impressed with Nixon's "me too" reply or his subsequent closing statement. Just appearing sincere is now too much of an effort for the Vice President, and he's given it up. I think he couldn't wait for this whole debate fiasco to be over.

And fiasco it has been. Going into the debates, Senator Kennedy was struggling with an image of immaturity. Vice President Nixon was considered the better speaker, the more experienced candidate. Now we've seen four contests between the two, and Kennedy has come out the winner in at least three (in my opinion). More importantly, Nixon began and ended the series with weak performances, whereas Kennedy has only looked more and more presidential.

I don't believe that these debates are the linchpin to the election, but they have made it much more of a horse race. What was the Vice President's election to lose is now anyone's game.

Next up: the second season of The Twilight Zone!

[Oct. 20, 1960] Fiction > Non-fiction… sometimes (the November 1960 Analog)

Each month, I lament what's become of the magazine that John Campbell built.  Analog's slow decline has been marked by the editor's increased erratic and pseudo-scientific boosting behavior.  Well, I just don't have the heart to kick a dog today, and besides, the fiction is pretty good in this month's (November 1960) issue.  So let's get right to it, shall we?

"Mark Phillips" (Randall Garrett and Laurence M. Janifer) have a new four-part serial in their Malone series.  Set in the 1970s, the series details the adventures of a couple of federal agents, who are helped in their cases by a telepath who believes herself (and may actually be) Queen Elizabeth I.  I won't spoil the details of this one, Occasion for Disaster, but I've liked the previous novels, so I suspect Occasion will also be pleasant reading.

Heading off the magazine's short stories is a fun piece by Theodore L. Thomas, half of the pseudonymous duo that previously brought us a fascinating study into the world of copyright, The Professional TouchCrackpot continues in that vein, featuring a brilliant old scientist (Prof. Singlestone… get it?!) who convinces the world that he's gone senile.  His aim?  To make his work so disreputable that no government agency will want it, so that no university will employ him, so that he can for the first time in his life enjoy working as a truly free agent.  So that when his invention proves to be utterly unignorable, he will be the master of its fate.  Cute stuff.  Three stars.

Next up is E.C. Tubb's The Piebald Horse.  It starts out well enough with a Terran spy trying to escape a repressive alien world with his brain full of sensitive knowledge.  The jig seems up for him when the aliens employ telepaths as mind-screen agents, but they are foiled when the protagonist pickles himself continuously until he can depart the planet.  I'm pretty sure I just saw this tactic in Fred Pohl's Drunkard's Walk.  2 stars.

These two stories are followed by a pair of execrable "non-fiction" articles.  Captain, MSC, US Navy H.C. Dudley, PhD (he must be authoritative–look at all the titles!) has the first: The Electric Field Rocket.  He maintains that the Earth's electrostatic field can be used to assist rocket launches; he implies that the Soviet's lead in the Space Race is attributable to their taking advantage of said phenomenon.  Not only is the article unreadable, but I suspect the science is bunk.  Time will tell.  1 star.

Speaking of which, Editor Campbell contributes the second article: Instrumentation for the Dean Drive.  I'm not even going to dignify with a review this next piece in an endless series on Dean's magical inertialess engine.  He needs to knock it off already.  1 star.

Blessedly, the rest of the issue is quite good.  The reliable Hal Clement is back with Sunspot, an exciting, if highly technical, account of a group of spacemen who ride a comet around the Sun.  What better shielding exists for a close encounter with a star than billions of cubic tons of ice?  Four stars.

At last, we come to H. Beam Piper's Oomphel in the Sky.  The set-up is great: a Terran colony world in a binary star system courts disaster when the planet makes a close approach to the usually far-away sun.  This triggers unrest amongst the natives, threatening Terran and native interests alike.  I'm an unabashed fan of Piper, and this is a good tale, although he does get a little patronizing toward the do-gooder but ineffective Terran government.  I like the strong anthropological bent, and I appreciate the respect with which he treats the natives and their interests.  Four stars.

In sum, the November 1960 Analog (I almost typed "Astounding") is quite decent, fiction-wise.  Campbell needs to do what Galaxy's Gold has done and hire a ghost editor, and a real non-fiction author.  I can't believe there isn't another budding Asimov or Ley out there champing at the bit to be published…

The fourth and last Kennedy/Nixon debate is tomorrow night!  I hope you'll all watch it with me, but if you can't bring yourself to sit through another hour of sparring, I'll give you the full details the following day.

[Oct. 17, 1960] Aiming Low (Robert Buckner's Starfire)

Is dumbed-down science fiction a gateway or an embarrassment?

I commonly hear the complaint that our genre, namely science fiction and fantasy, is not taken seriously.  Despite the contributions of such luminaries as Ted Sturgeon, Zenna Henderson, Isaac Asimov, Robert Heinlein, etc., our field is generally considered to comprise purely low-brow fare.

Is it really a surprise?  When is the last time you watched an accurate science fiction movie?  How often do lurid pictures of steel-brassiere clad women grace the covers of our magazines, regardless of the content therein?  How distinguishable are these covers from those of the comic books?

Things are getting better, I think.  The number of science fiction magazines has dwindled to a manageable half-dozen or so, and in a sort of literary Darwinism, their stories are of superior caliber (generally).  Every month, several genre books are published; some of them really push the envelope both in writing and subject matter.

Which is why it's disappointing when I come across a throwback like Robert Buckner's Starfire, published this month by "Permabook."

The cover should have been warning enough.  The blurb advertises, "The Hilarious Exploits of a Bashful Scientist and a Creature Gorgeous Enough to Send any Man into Orbit," and the mostly naked redhead in the astronaut's arms is classic pulp cheesecake.  Still, there isn't much coming out this month, and I needed something to read on the flight to Seattle last week. 

At a bare 139 pages of big print, it didn't last half the journey.  Apparently, the book originally appeared as a serial for the Saturday Evening Post, which explains its vapid, layman-friendly style.

Giving credit where credit is due, the first forty pages are actually pretty good.  We are acquainted with a spaceman, Charlie, his orbital mission in progress.  He's in some kind of capsule, and this is a test flight for a trip around the moon.  There is a good deal of exposition explaining the basics of spacecraft mechanics and recovery, no doubt to catch up the uninitiated general reader.  Only after the mission is complete do we learn that Charlie is a chimpanzee, and that the ape was "man-rating" the spacecraft.  It was a nice touch, and had the story ended there, it would have made a fine novella for a science fiction digest… oh, about ten years ago.

But then the story continues.  The protagonist is Captain Richmond Talbot, the chimp's handler.  A pleasant, unprepossesing type, he is shanghaied into piloting the next flight of the spaceship: a Moon mission scheduled just five days hence!  Talbot is to be given no training.  He has trouble with airsickness.  He doesn't want to go.  Hilarious, right?

Talbot does manage to secure a few days leave to visit his family.  On the way there, he encounters Lyrae, a beautiful young redhead with truly alien manners: she doesn't wear make-up, pluck her eyebrows, or wear a bra (steel or otherwise)!  Oh, and she does speak with a slight accent.  She attempts to warn Talbot that his flight will be fatal unless he wears a special helmet and coats the rocket with rubidium alloy.  This is corroborated externally; after returning from space, it turns out that Charlie's exposure to "proton radiation" has driven him insane.  Hijinks ensue when Talbot assumes Lyrae is a Russian spy and the FBI gets involved.  For a while, Talbot becomes a virtual prisoner of the G-Men during their investigation.

Of course, it turns out Lyrae really is an alien (and all those flying saucers and cigars?  Those are real aliens, too).  The FBI agents are no match for the girl, who turns out to be telepathic and something of a teleport.  She frees Talbot, and they run away together in a race against time to fix the rocket before liftoff.  Along the way, Talbot falls in love with Lyrae, of course.  This turns out to be a bit of a foregone conclusion; prescience is also one of Lyrae's many talents, and she's known since the start that Talbot is her future husband.  Hence why she is so keen on seeing him make his Moon trip successfully.

Everything ends well.  Talbot gets his helmet and his fixed-up rocket.  On his way to the Moon, he is intercepted by Lyrae and whisked off to interstellar parts unknown.  Finis.

Now, I don't want you to get the impression that the book is unmitigatedly awful.  It's not.  It's a bit brainless, and it aims quite a bit lower than those of us in the F&SF crowd (or even the Analog crowd) prefer.  But I like the satirical brush with which Buckner paints the book's politicians and officers, and the beginning was solid.  All in all, Starfire is rather well-written and diverting, even if it doesn't do our genre much credit.  Could it be a gateway book?  Perhaps.  I'd certainly classify it as a juvenile if it hadn't been written for a general adult audience. 

What does that tell you about the general adult audience?

2.5 stars out of 5 (mediocre).

[Oct. 14, 1960] Side by Side (the third Presidential debate)

Submitted for your consideration, a logistical nightmare.

Imagine you are a television producer hosting the first ever series of TV Presidential debates.  Both candidates of the two parties that matter have agreed to spar on a weekly schedule, and each event promises to be a ratings bonanza.  Your first two shows live up to expectations, and you lick your chops in heady anticipation of number three.

And then you learn that your special guests are busy campaigning on opposite sides of the country that day. 

What do you do?  The show obviously must go on!  Thank goodness for Bill Bradshaw of Cincinnati's WKRC and his stunning invention, "Split Screen."  You may have seen examples of this technique in recent episodes of Howdy Doody; two completely different images are stitched together, live, so that they can be seen at the same time by the viewer.

As a result, even though last night Jack Kennedy was in Los Angeles, and Dick Nixon was in New York, through the miracle of Split Screen, the two were closer to each other than ever before.  The third debate was quite a spectacle.

Interestingly, though the presentation was wildly different from the previous debate, the format was identical.  Neither candidate was allowed an opening or closing statement.  Rather, they were once again grilled by a panel of professional grillers, two from the networks, and two from print media.

Here's what the candidates had to say:

If the Formosan islands of Quemoy and Matsu made a guest appearance in the last debate, they were full-fledged co-stars in this one.  In the last debate, these two pieces of real estate just a few miles off the coast of Red China, ownership disputed by Chiang Kai Shek and Mao Tse Tung, were dismissed as indefensible by Senator Kennedy and declared the frontline for Democracy by Vice President Nixon. 

The third debate opened up as if the second had never stopped with a question of Senator Kennedy: "You've called the Vice President 'Trigger Happy' over Quemoy and Matsu; are you willing to stand up for West Berlin?"

Without blinking an eye, Kennedy asserted that, as President, he would stand by all of our allies whose sovereignty we had guaranteed by treaty, particularly West Berlin.  Nixon, flustered, assured his audience again and again that Republicans are not "Trigger Happy," and that it was the Democrats who had led us into war the last three times.

At this point I fished around my junk drawer for some twine to wrap around my face, my jaw having fallen quite open.  It was an awfully silly move to suggest that American involvement in the two World Wars and Korea were somehow bellicose acts, and to imply that a Republican would have sat idly by and watched 1) the Kaiser smash the Allies, 2) Hitler enslave Europe while Japan enslaved Asia, and 3) Communism triumph over the entire Korean peninsula. 

In response to the next question, the Vice President refused to detail the level of response to which he would commit over Quemoy and Matsu.  He had difficulty articulating why his desire to defend the islands was so much greater than President Eisenhower's. 

The Senator noted that Quemoy and Matsu did not fall under the ambit of the 1955 Treaty under which America guaranteed the defense of Formosa.  Nixon countered that Kennedy had been one of the few Senators to oppose an amendment to that treaty which expressed a resolution to defend the islands, nevertheless. 

But then the Vice President suggested that the loss to Mao of two small spits of earth would be tantamount to Chamberlain's appeasement of Hitler.  Kennedy lunged in with a cutting jab (I paraphrase): "I can't see why the Vice President is so concerned over Quemoy and Matsu, five miles from Red China, when he showed so little concern over the Communist takeover of Cuba, 90 miles from Florida."

When the Vice President later defended the Eisenhower administration's record on stopping the spread of Communism, specifically in Indochina, Senator Kennedy once again singed his opponent noting that Communism hadn't been stopped in Tibet, Budapest, Laos, Guinea, Ghana, or Cuba. 

In the last debate, Kennedy stated that America should not attempt another summit with the Soviet Union until the nation was militarily stronger so as to have a better position from which to negotiate.  When asked in this debate to articulate his point further, the Senator stated that our airlift capacity needed to be immediately improved so that we could more quickly come to the aid of beleaguered allies.  He also urged rapid deployment of the Minuteman and Polaris nuclear missile systems.  Kennedy encouraged a stronger push toward disarmament discussions and an end to above-ground nuclear testing. 

Nixon's response was characteristically (for this debate) weak, echoing Kennedy's points but mostly saying that Eisenhower hadn't been sitting on his thumbs when it came to defense and pushing for disarmament.

Domestic issues were the subject of about half of the debate.  Kennedy proposed granting the executive office more methods to resolve labor disputes.  The Vice President wanted to keep a largely hands-off approach.  The Senator discussed reviewing and potentially reducing depletion allowances, tax credits offered to energy companies.  Nixon asserted that these credits were vital to the nation's economy. 

Speaking of the economy, the Vice President wants to accelerate its growth was to lower taxes, reduce racial discrimination, and stimulate higher education.  Kennedy noted that the Republicans had blocked every attempt to pass legislation that would do those things. 

On the issue of reducing the trade imbalance, which is depleting our nation's gold reserves, Nixon said he would balance the budget, increase exports, and encourage other countries to support the poor countries in Latin America and Africa.  Kennedy said "ditto" (though he took much longer to do so) and added that he would try to get other nations to eliminate tariffs on American goods.  Neither candidate was particularly strong in this segment.

A nice moment came when Kennedy was asked what he thought of the Ku Klux Klan Grand Wizard's declaration that he was voting for Nixon.  The Senator graciously defended the Vice President, insisting that in no way should Nixon be identified with the racist group.  The Vice President took the opportunity to declaim racial discrimination, repeating his first debate point that it is not only wrong and economically debilitating, but makes us look bad in front of the Russians.

Speaking of first debate echoes, Kennedy again maintained that his budget was balanced despite the emphasis on new programs.  Nixon called Kennedy's plan a "mirror game," and that it must unbalance the budget.  He went on to criticize the Senator's suggestion that the national debt might be reduced through inflation.  That's not quite what Kennedy had said, however (Kennedy noted that he did not recognize his proposals when paraphrased by Nixon).  Rather, the Senator had proposed interest rates be lowered to reduce the interest burden on the debt. 

The debate wrapped up with a question on how one might measure the prestige of the United States, which Kennedy insists is on the decline.  The Senator proposed four methods: 1) counting the number of countries trying Communist rather than Democratic governments, 2) gauging the success a superpower has in outer space, 3) Gallup polling, 4) and tabulating support for U.S. initiatives in the United Nations. 

Nixon's response was that it was defeatism and the giving up Quemoy and Matsu that would lead to a loss of national prestige.  Otherwise, we're doing just fine.

And there the contest ended.  I don't know about you, but it was definitely the Senator's night.  Kennedy came off feisty and detailed; Nixon was stuttering and vague.  I imagine that, if you are fine with the policies of the current administration and think Nixon will continue with more of the same, you'll be happy to cast your ballot for the Vice President.  But if presentation sways you at all, I suspect you drifted just a little bit to the Left last night.

Up next: fiction reviews!

[Oct. 12, 1960] For the Girls (a mini-convention in Seattle)

There's no question about it–conventions are here to stay.

Remember the first "Worldcon," when a whopping nine fans (all men) showed up in New York?  Now the annual event always draws hundreds of attendees, and I suspect someday soon it will break the thousand-fan barrier.  Since the War, a number of regional conventions have also sprung up: Westercon, Boskone, Eastercon, Disclave, Midwestcon, Lunacon…

And those are just the big formal ones.  There are plenty of smaller events–irregular gatherings associated with local clubs or movements. 

One that I've enjoyed over the past several years is a little Seattle event run by a gang of highly motivated and talented female fans.  These are ladies who have seen the 90/10 split between male and female authors (on a good day) and want to see things improve.  As always, the shindig was a great opportunity to engage in intellectual discussions, meet like-minded fans, and learn about up-and-coming female science fiction and fantasy talents.

Perhaps the most valuable episode, for me, was a group conversation regarding liking and recommending fiction that contains troubling elements.  For instance, what do you do when your favorite author includes demeaning depictions of certain races in her/his story?  Or when a creator turns out to be a horrible person in private life?  To what length can you diassociate yourself from the bad parts to continue enjoying the good?  And do you mention the bad bits when recommending the works to your friends?  Do you not recommend them at all?  It's a highly nuanced issue.

In the end, the consensus was that everybody has their breaking point (for me and Randall Garrett, for instance, it was Queen Bee), but up to that point, we can enjoy what we enjoy without feeling guilt.  If something really bothers us, we can write letters to the authors and editors and urge them to alter their practices.  And when it comes to recommendations, honesty is the best policy.  Even if you worry that mentioning some teensy-weensy little thing will poison someone's perception of an entire work, it is important that: 1) the recommendee know what s/he is getting into, and 2) that it is understood that you are not blind to the troublesome issue.

On that philosophical note, here are some photos from the gathering!

It's still World War 2 in some places:

(smallsleepingroyal)

Disney remains a perennial source of popular costumes:

Here's an interesting take on the "Bat-girl":

And a rather dapper fellow from another era:

Here are some attendees who came in their street clothes (more or less):

There was even a tiny dealer's hall!

(Becky and James Hicks of Little Vampires; dig their Breakfast at Tiffany's parody!)

(Crystal of Crystal's Idyll)

And, of course, yours truly. 

Thanks to all of you lovely people who made our weekend so enjoyable We will be back next year.

Stay tuned: the third Kennedy/Nixon debate is airing tomorrow.  I hope you'll all join me for this prime-time event so that we can compare notes the next day…

[Oct. 8, 1960] Tarnished Images (the Second Presidential Debate)

Something has been lost, recently.  Call it innocence or naivete.

In ancient times, a national leader was a mythic figure.  The average citizen never caught a glimpse of the sovereign, except maybe as a stylized sculpture or a face on a coin.  This gulf between the commoner and ruler inspired reverence and fear.  The leader was no mere mortal.  In fact, often, the King or Emperor was a God.  A lesser God, perhaps, but still a deity. 

The American President is hardly a God, but the Executive Office yet holds an element of majesty.  Our great leaders are enshrined as statues and on currency.  Even when we disagree with a President's policies, we still pay great respect to the position (if not the person).

I think this is all about to change.  Thanks to the miracle of television, the distance between the electorate and the President is negligible.  Watching Senator Kennedy and Vice President Nixon spar in the second televised debate last night, I felt no sense of awe, no feeling that these were extraordinary people.  I might as well have been watching two fellows compete for the mayorship or a seat on the school board. 

Perhaps this is a good thing.  After all, the President is a human being, and we want a human to represent us, don't we?  Still, I can't help feeling a pang of regret at the close of a (rose-tinted) era.

This may have been exacerbated by the format of the second debate, which was quite different from that of the first.  In the first contest, both candidates were allowed long opening and closing statements.  This afforded them a bit of dignity and gave a detached air to the proceedings.  The second debate was a more impromptu affair–strictly a question and answer session.  The candidates addressed each other far more directly.  They weren't talking to us anymore–they were talking near us. 

The Nixon I saw last night was far more poised and rested than the one I saw just two weeks ago.  Kennedy, on the other hand, seemed a little lost and occasionally shrill.  As for the content of their words, both said a lot of compelling things, but without an army of fact-checkers, it is difficult for me to gauge their value.  Here are some highlights:

Regarding foreign policy, management of which is perhaps the President's greatest duty, Kennedy seemed to take a conciliatory tone toward the East.  He conceded that U2 spy plane flights are necessary for national security, but that lying about the flights caused the recent Summit in Paris to fail.  The Senator also described the Taiwanese islands of Quemoy and Matsu, lying just a few miles off the coast of Red China, as indefensible and that World War Three should not be started over them should Mao make a move to grab them. 

On the other hand, Kennedy stated that America must be militarily and economically stronger before heading back to the Summit table.  Kennedy asserted that our national prestige was at an all-time low, and that we had all but abandoned Latin America and Africa to the Communists.  When President, he promised, he would address these issues. 

Nixon, of course, disagreed vehemently.  He noted that eight Latin American dictators had been toppled during the Eisenhower administration (though what role we had in that, he didn't say).  The Vice President asserted, and I think he's right, that Khruschev never intended to attend the Summit in good faith because the Premier had no chance of getting what we wanted: a resolution of the Berlin issue favorable to the Soviet Union.  Nixon drew a sharp line around Quemoy and Matsu.  He also contended that the situation in Cuba might yet be salvaged.  The Vice President noted that 600 million people had gone behind the Iron Curtain during the Truman Presidency, but during the Eisenhower term, Communism had been stopped in Indochina, in Formosa (Taiwan), and in Lebanon. 

On the issue of Civil Rights, which neither candidate had really discussed in the first debate, Nixon stated that he would pursue equal opportunity employment in government contracts and support federal spurring of education integration.  He urged the end of discrimination not just because it is right, but because it gives fodder to Khruschev to denounce our country. 

Kennedy's response was, essentially, that Nixon and Eisenhower might pay lip service to ending racial discrimination, but neither of them are really serious.  The Vice President replied that his efforts had been hamstrung by a lack of support in Congress, and in any event, Kennedy could not be trusted so long as he retained pro-segregation Lyndon Johnson as his running mate.

On the economy, Nixon's statements were contradictory.  On the one hand, he asserted that the country is not going into a recession, but should it, he would stimulate the private sector with tax cuts without increasing federal spending.  Later, however, Nixon said he would raise taxes, even as early as next year, if he felt it would be necessary to balance the budget.

Kennedy stated, as he did in the last debate, that the key to improving the national economy is federal stimulus.  Medical care for the aged under Social Security.  More financial aid to the poor.  Federal funding of education.  He maintained that his platform would not require increased taxes and that he was opposed to raising taxes in the near future for fear of increasing unemployment and causing deflation.  Nevertheless, the American people, he said, should be prepared to pay more taxes, and to otherwise make sacrifices, to preserve and enhance the nation as a whole.

Distilled to the essence, Nixon touted the record of the Eisenhower administration and promised more of the same: slow, steady progress.  Kennedy castigated the Republicans (while refraining from directly attacking the President) and claimed that only the Democrats could bring real change. 

There are two more debates in this series.  Now that we have seen Kennedy and Nixon on both strong and weak days, I'd be interested to see if the debates sway significant numbers from one camp to another.  Either way, I think the experience of watching the two candidates struggle their way through hours of verbal wrestling has gone a long way toward reducing these would-be Titans to simple humans. 

The Bronze Age of Heroes is over.  The Iron Age has begun.

[Oct. 5, 1960] Point-to-point (Courier, the first active communications satellite)

How do you talk to someone on the other side of the planet?

At the dawn of civilization, one might dispatch messengers via horseback (or fast runner in the Western Hemisphere, horses being unknown until the Conquistadores came).  That might take months or even years.  Smoke signals and heliographs were a little better, but they still were limited to line of sight transmission. 

The telegraph was a revolution.  Now, messages could travel from point to point at the speed of light.  A few decades later, telephones enabled live conversations at great distance.  Radio broadcasts shrunk the world further, broadcasting messages wirelessly throughout the globe.

But neither the telephone nor radio are perfect solutions to the presented problem.  With telephones, both parties need to be physically connected to each other.  Radio is notoriously unreliable at great distances.  Things are worse if you're in the military–neither phones nor the wireless are secure: wires can be tapped, and radio is broadcast in the clear.

What you really want is a tight-beam radio broadcast, one that could be directed at any recipient without need for wires.  But for that, you'd need a series of repeating towers that provide service anywhere on Earth.  That's a tall order.  Not only is it expensive, but pesky oceans get in the way.  You could get away with fewer towers if they were tall enough, but how do you construct a 100-mile high repeating tower?

Easy.  You build just the top of the tower–and launch it into orbit, where it can be overhead indefinitely.  And that's just what the U.S. Army Signal Corps did yesterday (October 4) with its brand-new communications satellite, aptly dubbed "Courier." 

Courier is a revolution.  Where Project Score, launched two years ago, merely sent a pre-recorded message, and NASA's recent Project Echo only reflects signals off of its balloon surface, Courier is an "active repeater."  This means it can receive messages from a transmitter, then wait until the recipient is in sight to deliver them.  It's secure…and fast.  Courier can relay 68,000 words per minute, enough to send an entire King James Bible in 11 minutes!  And all one needs is a receiver that can hear the frequencies on which Courier transmits.

Yesterday's launch was actually the second time the Army tried to launch a Courier; the first attempt on August 18 ended prematurely thanks to a balky Thor Able-Star booster.  But the current mission is a complete success; the 500 pound, 51-inch wide sphere has already been used to send a message from the President (at Fort Monmouth, New Jersey) to Secretary of State Christian A. Herter (at the United Nations, by way of Salinas, Puerto Rico). 

We've come a long way in the three years since Sputniks, with triumphs ranging from moon probes to weather satellites to space dogs.  The next three years will be even more exciting: manned orbital shots, probes to Venus and Mars, space telescopes, commercial communications satellites…and who knows what else!

[Oct. 2, 1960] Second-rate fun (November 1960 IF Science Fiction)

Galaxy's little sister, IF Science Fiction has settled into a predictable format.  Filled with a number of "B" authors, mostly neophytes, it generally leads with a decent novelette, and the rest of the stories are two and three-star affairs.  I don't think the blame can be put on IF's shadow editor, Fred Pohl (Horace Gold is all but retired these days, I understand).  Rather, this is about the best quality one can expect for a penny a word. 

That said, the stories in IF are rarely offensively bad, and perhaps some day, one of these novices learning the ropes of writing in the minor leagues will surprise us with a masterpiece.

Preamble out of the way, let's take a look at the November 1960 issue:

Jim Harmon is actually quite the veteran, and he has a knack for interesting, off-beat writing.  His novelette, Mindsnake, depicts a future where interstellar teleportation is possible, but fraught with risk.  Only the Companions, colloquially known (and disparaged) as Witches, can keep a traveller's mind intact over the long journey.  Good stuff, and original.  Four stars.

Then we have the short Superjoemulloy by unknown Scott F. Grenville.  How can the most powerful man challenge himself?  By creating a superior version of himself, of course.  Three stars.

Now, I was a bit dismayed to find Daniel Keyes in the Table of Contents.  Whenever I see a "big name" in IF (and there is no question that Keyes is a big name: he won the Hugo this year for Flowers for Algernon), the story is usually a second-rater.  Sure enough, The Quality of Mercy, which clunkily mixes sentient computers with organ transplants and mandated euthanasia, is a bit of a talky mess.  Two stars.

R.A. Lafferty is a fellow who may surprise us some day.  He seems to be enjoying an upward trajectory with his stories, not just in quality but in venue.  McGonigal's Worm, in which every animal on Earth loses the ability to breed, is sort of a poor man's Brain Wave.  Read it, and you'll see what I mean.  Three stars.

Esidarap ot Pirt Dnuor is an engaging little tale of tourism in a rather backward place, brought to us by Lloyd Biggle, Jr, who spends much of his time appearing in Fantastic.  I liked it, but I'm afraid I didn't get the final joke–an Un-Prize to anyone who can explain it to me.  Three stars.

I was gratified to find that, per his book review column, Fred Pohl liked much the same stories in Aldiss' Galaxies like Grains of Sand as I did.  On the other hand, he liked Dickson's Dorsai! far more than me.  Perhaps the novelization (titled The Genetic General) is better than the serial.

William Stuart is back with another well-written story that doesn't quite hit the mark.  Don't think about it is a low-grade F&SF-style tale that takes too long to get to its kicker, and whose kicker lacks kick.  Three stars.

That brings us to Frank Herbert's Egg and Ashes, told from the point of view of a charming if horrifying little symbiote (parasite?) I felt like the beginning was better than the ending, but I do like the way Herbert turns a phrase.  Three stars.

The issue ends with The Impersonator, the third story ever published by Robert Wicks.  In the midling future, the Earth is threatened by an impending Ice Age thanks to humanity's rapacious exploitation of the planet's resources.  A host of outrageous plans are developed to fix the problem: from salting ice fields with carbon dust, to altering the axial tilt of the planet, to tapping the heat from the Earth's core.  It's not a great story, but I liked Wicks' satirical presentation of "doubling down" in an attempt to thwart catastrophe.  Three stars.

As you can see, this isn't the best crop of stories.  On the other hand, minor league games draw crowds, too.  And the tickets are cheaper….

[Sep. 30, 1960] Discoverer 15 and a preview for October

It's the end of the month, and that means a sneak preview at what's in store next month on the Journey.  There is also a bit of space news I missed.  Things are now moving fast enough in the world of rockets that it's easy to fall behind!

For those following along at home, here's what's coming out in October.  Items that I plan to review are listed in bold:

Magazines:

October 1960 IF Science Fiction

October 1960 Analog

October 1960 Fantasy and Science Fiction

October 1960 Amazing

October 1960 Fantastic

Books:

Starfire, Robert Buckner

Men into Space, Murray Leinster

Movies:

I aim at the Stars

Television:

The Twilight Zone

The Flintstones

2nd, 3rd, and 4th Presidential Debates

Conventions:

Geek Girl Con

Here's a recap of this month's digests and how they fared against each other:

F&SF was the clear winner at 3.75 stars.  Both Galaxy and Analog trailed far behind, both at 2.75 stars.  F&SF also had my favorite story: From Shadowed Places.  There were 23 authors across the three books; two of them were women.

Now for the Space News:

Looking back through my newspapers, I see that the Air Force got off another Discoverer on September 13.  This fifteenth in the series of capsule-return spacecraft was the third success in a row.  Like its predecessors, it was launched into a polar orbit (as opposed to the East-West orbits used for civilian shots), with an apogee of 787 km and a perigee of 217 km.  17 orbits later, the capsule began its reentry somewhere over Alaska.  Though the airplanes deployed to recover the capsule did not manage to catch it in mid-air, the probe was later found drifting in the Pacific Ocean off the coast of Christmas Island.

Now here's the interesting part.  The capsule carried no biological payload (as usual), but it did carry instruments being "tested for later reconnaissance satellites," namely MIDAS, the missile-launch detector, and SAMOS, the official Air Force spy sat program.  This is the first time the Air Force has admitted what I've suspected all along–that Discoverer is really a testbed spy sat.  One of the articles I read went on to say that the capsules will be carrying monkeys sometime soon.  Don't hold your breath.  Discoverer never had anything to do with the manned space program.

Thus ends September.  Here's looking at a busy October!

[Sep. 28, 1960] Face to Face (the first Presidential debates)

What an immediate world we live in.  Think about life six hundred years ago, before the printing press, when news and knowledge were communicated as fast as a person could talk, as fast as a horse could trot.  Think about life two hundred years ago, before the telegraph knit our nation together with messages traveling at the speed of light.  Think about the profound effects movies, radio, and television have had on society.  With each advancement, the globe has shrunk.  One can now hear broadcasts in virtually any language from the comfort of one's home.  One can get news as it happens from the other side of the planet. 

And, for the first time, the American people can, through our representatives in the media, have a direct conversation with our presidential candidates.  For yesterday, thanks to the marvel of modern television, Senator Kennedy and Vice President Nixon were able to discuss matters of national urgency in the first-ever televised presidential debate, on September 26.

I can't stress enough how exciting the experience was for me, as I imagine it was for you.  For the first time, the candidates felt like people.  Their platforms were clearly articulated.  By the end of the event, I had a much clearer idea of what my choices would be come November.

It was an interesting contest, and I think both candidates acquitted themselves well.  Kennedy began the event rather stiffly, but by the midpoint, he had hit a fiery, engaging stride.  Nixon affected a rather deferential mien, which surprised me.  As a result, he came off as a gentleman, but a bit complacent.  He also seemed, at times, to struggle for words.  Not often, but it suggested a touch of exhaustion.  I shouldn't be surprised, given the man's campaigning schedule.

As for the substance of their remarks, during this hour-long debate specifically on domestic matters, I took four pages of hastily scrawled notes.  I'll try to digest them into something short and cogent.

The candidates were given eight minutes for opening speeches.  Kennedy led off, linking freedom with economic prosperity.  So long as the world remains half slave and half free (paraphrasing a famous Republican, how the times have changed), the way for freedom to endure is for economic progress to be made.  He touted the Tennessee Valley Authority (TVA) as a model for future, government-led success.  He acknowledged the moderate prosperity of the post-War era, but charged that we must do better, that we can do better.  Interestingly, this is the only time that either of them addressed the strong racial inequality in our country.  Nixon was conspicuously silent on the issue–perhaps he hopes to wrest the South from Democratic control.

Nixon, unlike Kennedy, used the full span of time allotted for the opening speech.  For the first half, he was strikingly defensive.  America was not standing still, he said, a tone of desperation creeping into his voice, and a sheen of sweat on his chin.  The Vice President fared better as he shifted to propounding his own agenda.  He maintained that the Republicans know the secret to progress, and that the Eisenhower era was far more successful than the Truman era.  He ended his comments with a dig against Kennedy: "I know what it means to be poor."  This is true, but so long as the Republican party is the party of big business, I don't think it matters.

Then a panel of four reporters presented a series of questions to the candidates.  Three of the ten dealt with whether or not Kennedy and Nixon were qualified to be President.  In Kennedy's case, the issue was age, to which Kennedy replied that he and Nixon had both been in governmental service since 1947.  The Senator also noted that Lincoln (again!) had the shortest of political resumes and yet was one of our greatest Presidents.  For Nixon, the issue was eight years of ineffectiveness.  Had he done anything memorable as Vice President?  Nixon said he had; Kennedy disputed Nixon's claimed accomplishments.  It was pretty damning that Eisenhower, himself, said he needed a week to recall a major Nixon accomplishment–and he turned up empty a week later.

Things got more interesting, for me, when substantive policy issues were addressed.  Regarding ongoing farm subsidies, Kennedy insisted that they were necessary given the volatile nature of the agriculture business, the relative weakness of the farmer in his market, and the importance of the food production sector.  Nixon agreed that subsidies must continue while the wartime surpluses remain, but that the farmer must ultimately be weaned off the government teat.

In response to a question regarding the national debt, Kennedy asserted that the debt could not be reduced before 1963, but that his expanded programs would be paid for by the growing economy they would guarantee.  Nixon noted that the government would have to front payment for the programs before it came back as taxes, and he insisted that Kennedy's programs were too "extreme."  The only way to pay for them would be to raise taxes or go into inflation-causing debt, both of which would hurt the American people.

Perhaps the subtlest issue of the debate was teachers' salaries.  Both came out in favor of it.  But Nixon has a record of voting against it.  The Vice President says he worries that involvement of the federal government will reduce the freedom the teachers have to instruct as they wish.  Kennedy dismissed this argument noting that the bill he supported in February of this year had no such strings attached–the federal government would simply give money to the states, which would then spend it as they saw fit.  Nixon noted, however, that this would incentivize the states to simply diminish their contribution to education in an amount equal to what the federal government provided.  Interesting points.

The highest drama ensued when Kennedy was asked if he would be more effective as a President in getting bills passed than as a Senator.  Kennedy noted that he had no trouble getting his proposals passed in his legislative chamber; it was the obstinate Republicans in the House and in the White House that blocked them.  With him as President, his policies would be effected.  Nixon, rather unconvincingly, said it was not Eisenhower's veto that blocked Kennedy, but the will of the people that veto represented. 

The spirited debate continued into the next question, regarding Nixon's ability to lead.  The Vice President rather bashfully averred that whomever the people voted for would be an effective President–but the people wouldn't support someone who espoused extreme measures.

Kennedy countered forcefully that a $1.25 minimum wage was not extreme, that medical insurance for those over 65 was not extreme, and that federal support of education was not extreme.  And should he be elected, he implied, those measures will pass. 

The last question addressed the issue of domestic Communism.  Both candidates expressed their concern over the problem, but it was pretty clear that neither of them were too worried about it.  Kennedy noted that the primary threat was external Communism.  Nixon urged that we must be "fair" to our people when combating domestic Communism, lest we become too like our repressive enemies.  Given Nixon's strong role in the anti-Communist movement a decade ago, this note rang a bit false.

At this point, the candidates were given three minutes to sum up.  Nixon stressed that the Soviet Union may be growing faster than the United States, but that's just because they are so much further behind.  In 1960, as in 1940, the Soviet Union has just 44% of America's Gross National Product.  And while he and Kennedy agreed on general goals, their means were different.  I couldn't quite parse out what Nixon's means would be–only what they would not be (i.e. increased federal spending).

Kennedy ended on the offensive.  He said he did not want America to sit idly while the Soviet Union closed the economic gap.  The Senator said that, if we are happy with the nation as it is, by all means, we should vote for Nixon.  But if we're the least bit dissatisfied (and who is ever completely satisfied?), we must vote Democratic.  Because America is "ready to move," and Kennedy can get us moving.

The debate had a paradoxical effect upon me as a voter.  I was (and am) predisposed to poll Democratic, and seeing Kennedy perform only reinforced that tendency.  On the other hand, I feel I have a better handle on the Vice President, and I like him more than I did before the event.  Thus, while Kennedy may have "won" the debate, I think both candidates came out winners in terms of presenting themselves as competent, likeable executive possibilities.

More important, perhaps, is the way this debate has presented in a clear-cut fashion, the issues facing the American people.  We all have a lot to think about now.  And stimulating the cerebral juices is a laudable achievement for a device commonly known as the "idiot box."

55 years ago: Science Fact and Fiction