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[February 6, 1968] The Most Dangerous Dame (Confessions of a Psycho Cat) and From the Land of Hype (Ellison's From the Land of fear)

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by Victoria Silverwolf

No Nudes Is Good Nudes

That might be true for most ordinary Hollywood productions playing at your local theater, anyway. However, if you sneak downtown to one of the seedier movie houses, you might wonder if the Hays Code has any real meaning these days.

It's already been weakened by critically acclaimed films such as Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? (language), Blow-Up (nudity), and Bonnie and Clyde (violence). But that's not what I'm talking about.

I'm talking about nudies.

We've already dived into this cinematic underworld some time ago, with a discussion of the extremely silly movie Nude on the Moon. Like other so-called nudie cuties, there's a certain innocence to it, despite the display of unclothed female flesh.

There's a category of nudies known as roughies, adding violence to the naked women in order to provide even sleazier thrills. That wouldn't normally be my cup of tea, but I have to admit that a recent ad for one of these things caught my eye as I was walking past a disreputable theater.

How could I resist the greatest movie title since Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill!?

I snuck my way into the darkened theater and got ready for a truly unusual viewing experience.

A Krazy Kat And Three Blind Mice

Let's get the dirty stuff out of the way first. The sequences featuring naked women were obviously added to the original film later. They don't look anything at all like the main part of the movie, so we can disregard them.

What we really have here is a variation on Richard Connell's famous story The Most Dangerous Game, which reached the silver screen way back in 1932. (Try to catch the original on your local Shock Theater TV program. It's quite good.)

Confessions of a Psycho Cat retains the basic concept of hunting human beings for sport, but otherwise bears little resemblance to its inspiration. For one thing, the hunter is a woman.

We begin with our villainess, Virginia, saying goodbye to her brother at the airport. He's off to Africa to do some big game hunting. (Do you sense a theme developing?) Virginia usually goes with him, but her psychiatrist recommended that she stay home and recover from a nervous breakdown.

We then jump right into a scene of a guy running for his life. He manages to reach the apartment of some of his friends (insert unrelated nude party scene here) and tells them he's been shot. A flashback tells us what's going on.

It seems that Virginia brought three men together in order to offer them a very strange deal. If they'll allow her to hunt them down for twenty-four hours, she'll pay each one who escapes one hundred thousand dollars.

Each of the three men killed someone and escaped punishment. I guess this is Virginia's way of having fun while administering a kind of rough justice. She also thinks of each one as a specific type of animal. From left to right in the above scene of Virginia and the trio of intended victims, we have:

Buddy, a drug addict. He accidentally gave his girlfriend a fatal overdose of heroin. He's a jackal.

Charles, a stage actor. He murdered his wife's lover. He's a lion.

Rocco, a boxer. He killed an opponent in the ring. He's a bull.

I should mention here that all the characters are portrayed by totally unknown performers, with the exception of Rocco. He's played by well-known boxer Jake "Raging Bull" LaMotta, appropriately enough. (I wonder if the concept of symbolizing the men with animals came about when he was cast in the role.)

The three guys figure it'll be easy enough to hide out for a day and then collect the loot. Virginia cleverly uses their individual weaknesses to lure them into her traps. She makes Charles think he's got a chance for a big role. She accuses hot-tempered Rocco of being a coward. Of course, Buddy needs a dose of heroin.

While all this is going on, we learn about the traumatic incident during her childhood that made Virginia a Psycho Cat. Suffice to say that it puts her supposedly sane brother in a very bad light. By the end of the movie, Virginia is completely insane.

Obviously made on a very small budget, this modest little thriller has a certain gritty appeal. Filmed on location in New York City, with frequent use of a handheld camera, it sometimes feels like a very weird documentary. The highlight of the movie is the battle between Virginia and Rocco. I don't want to give too much away, but the fact that he's supposed to be a bull may give you a hint.

The irrelevant nude scenes are an annoying distraction, although there's one that made me laugh. When Rocco is on the phone with Virginia, there's supposedly a woman in the room with him. It's really, really obvious that the two characters aren't on the same set. In a bizarre scene, the woman kisses her reflection passionately.

If you can work up the nerve to walk into a place showing this thing, you may find it more enjoyable than you'd expect. If nothing else, the actress playing Virginia gives a really wild performance, whether she's hunter, matador, or little girl.

Give this kooky kitty a chance, and you may wind up purring.

Or, if you're ashamed to show your face in a nudie theater, you can stay home and watch the news.


by Gideon Marcus

Harlan is back with another money-grab collection, this time from Belmont.  Actually, I don't know how complicit Ellison actually is given that he was furious that Belmont reprinted Doomsman without his consent.  Still, he did contribute forewords to all the stories.

And that's really the reason to get this collection, since almost everything in it has appeared somewhere else before.

Where the Stray Dreams Go

One of the niftier pieces in the book, and the one fresh publication, this is not a story but a collection of aborted story fragments.  We may see them grow into complete stories someday.  Or perhaps, now that they have been born, after a fashion, this is their final form.  Four stars.

The Sky Is Burning
from IF Science Fiction, August 1958

This one was in Ellison Wonderland and I still feel the same way.  The idea that the universe is already inhabited by superior beings should not be as damaging to the racial ego as Ellison believes.  Three stars.

My Brother Paulie
from Satellite, December 1958

The ninth (and first successful) trip around the moon, manned by a solo pilot, is threatened by a stowaway.  It's got a gimmick you'll see a mile away.  Three stars.

The Time of the Eye
from The Saint Mystery Magazine, May 19591

A Korean war vet meets a beautiful blind woman during rehabilitation.  He falls for her, hard, but it turns out the tragic cause of the woman's injury is communicable…

An interesting, vivid story.  Four stars.

Life Hutch
from IF, April 1956

A wounded spaceman is trapped in his life hutch by a deranged robot.  Can he defeat the mechanical monster before it smashes him to bits?

This one appeared in Ellison's first collection, A Touch of Infinity (1960).  Four stars.

Battle Without Banners
from Taboo, (1964)

Society's refuse (e.g. the Jews and the non-lily-white) are packed into prisons.  This is the story of one brave squad's attempt to break out.  But the jail they live in is really called "society".

This one was written for Taboo, a sort of precursor to Dangerous Visions, including such luminaries as Charles Beaumont and Fritz Leiber.  It's a good piece, if a bit maudlin.  Three or four stars, I can't really decide.

Back to the Drawing Boards
from Fantastic Universe, August 1958

The creator of the first sentient robot gets his revenge on a cruel world.  When said android makes a 300 year round-trip to Alpha Centauri, his back wages amount to more than the value of the world, and since the robot was granted person-hood, there's no way out of the deal.

Even Ellison concedes that the plot doesn't work, but he likes it anyway.

This one also appeared in Ellison's first collection, A Touch of Infinity (1960).  Three stars.

A Friend to Man
from Space Travel, October 1959

After the last war, a loyal servant robot welcomes his new masters, though not without a touch of regret.

This one suffers for having the exact same ending as the prior robot story (Ellison writes so much, he's never above lifting from himself).  But it is nicely written.  Four stars.

We Mourn for Anyone…
from Fantastic, May 1957

A cad murders his wife but bites off more than he can chew when the professional mourner he employs turns out to be his wife's lover.

This one is an indictment of the mortuary business, but the message gets lost in the (pretty good) story.  Another three or four star piece.

The Voice in the Garden
from Lighthouse, August 1967

A two-page "after-the-bomb" story to end all "after-the-bomb" stories, published in the latest issue of Terry Carr's semi-prozine Lighthouse (I read it there, too).

I laughed.  Five stars for this skewering of cliché TV writers.

Soldier
from Fantastic Universe, October 1957

The longest single piece of the book is also the best.  A private soldier named Qarlo is warped by a freak accident into the past.  After being subdued and interrogated, he is put to his most effective use–telling his story as a cautionary tale against the ills of war.

Can't argue with this one, either the morality or the storytelling.  Five stars.

Soldier (screenplay)
Aired on The Outer Limits

This is the Ellison episode I missed (I did catch Demon with a Glass Hand, which was good).  But Natalie enjoyed it, and I hope I see it in rerun.

I feel that the story is far less impactful than its source material, but then, judging a show from a script is like judging a sculpture from its shadow.  I will say that, having read it, I now feel like I have an idea how to turn my Kitra books into a TV show…

Anyway, I won't rate this–it's invaluable if you're interested, and somewhat superfluous if you're not.

From the Land of Hype

My problem with Ellison is a personal one.  There's no doubt but that he's a brilliant writer.  You're never bored reading his stuff.  The thing is Harlan offers no viewpoint but his own; he just communicates it so well as to make you feel it's "the truth" rather than just "his opinion."

But Harlan and I are so diametrically opposed, constitutionally, that it always rings a bit false.  Harlan's never had long-term luck with ladies (though he bemoans the incessant interest he gets from women thanks to his "talent").  I've been happily married for 25 years.  Harlan has no sense of time; I am punctual to a fault.  Harlan famously has no tact and carries life-long grudges.  I have some sense of diplomacy, and I tend to forgive and forget.

I'm not saying there's anything wrong with Ellison–he is who he is–but it means that the belchings of his id, no matter how exquisitely crafted, never quite resonate with me.  This makes most of his stories fall into a sort of 3.75 star slush in my mind.

They're still worth reading, though.  He is a genius.



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Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy, Serial

[January 31, 1968] Too much and too little (February 1968 Analog)

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by Gideon Marcus

Too much

Last week, we watched the evening news with mounting dread and anxiety as President Johnson ordered 15,000 reservists into action in response to the seizure of the U.S.S. Pueblo by North Korea.  The U.S.S. Enterprise was already in the Sea of Japan ready to initiate a retaliatory strike.  It looked like the Cuban Missile Crisis all over again.  Lorelei turned to me and worried that things couldn't possibly get any worse.

Then the North Vietnamese launched an all-out assault on seven provincial capitals in South Vietnam.  Fighting reached the streets of Saigon, and the America embassy itself was overrun for six hours.  The conflict is still raging.  So much for the Tet holiday week of peace.  So much for armistice overtures.

So, 1968 is already shaping up to be a scary year in the mundane world.  Let's see how we're doing in the SFNal realm.  The latest issue of Analog starts off strong, from its Kelly Freas cover, to Harrison's name on the masthead.  But does it deliver on its promises?

Too little


by Kelly Freas

The Horse Barbarians (Part 1 of 3), by Harry Harrison

Don't let the title or the cover throw you–this latest serial is, in fact, the third installment in Harrison's Deathworld series.  In the brilliant first story, we are introduced to Jason dinAlt, a psychically adept gambler and roustabout who comes to Pyrrus, the most hostile planet in the galaxy.  Using his ESP talents, as well as his fine brain, he deduces that the reason the world is so antagonistic to humans is due to a kind of psychic positive feedback loop: as the colonists came to regard the planet as their enemy, the planet's flora and fauna responded in kind.  The key to living at peace with the world is a change in mindset, to work with the planet rather than try to conquer it.  It was a lovely ecological message, predating Silent Spring by two years.

The second dinAlt story, The Ethical Engineer is a Deathworld story only in name, with dinAlt captured and taken to another world in Chapter One.  This novel, more than any other, caused me to confuse Harry Harrison for Keith Laumer (as dinAlt and Retief are rather similar in nature and tone) everafter.

This third piece is a little more closely bound to the original.  The premise: all of the city-dwellers of Pyrrus who could make peace with the planet have already left the original settlement for the countryside.  What's left is the hard-core who cannot change their mindset.  Eventually, the planet must defeat them.

Jason has a proposal that may appeal to this remainder.  The planet Felicity has resisted all attempts at establishment of a mining colony.  Specifically, the northern half of the planet's sole continent is peopled by savage horse barbarians who steadfastedly resist any attempt at civilization.  dinAlt suggests that the Pyrrans form a planetary exploration and pacification company; after all, who in the galaxy could be tougher than a Pyrran?  About 400 city-dwellers agree to the plan.

Upon landing on Felicity, Jason is immediately konked on the head and made a captive of Temuchin, leader of the dominant barbarian tribe.  This chief has slowly gained the vassalage of all of the other tribes, cementing his control over the windswept northern steppes.  dinAlt manages to escape, making a trek across the barren wastes.  But the trip back to his ship, the Pugnacious, is only the beginning of his worries.  In order to topple Temujin, Jason and his fellow Pyrrans will have to playact at being a new barbarian tribe, and subvert the chieftain from within…

The tone flipflops between light and deadly serious, and the horse barbarians are a thinly disguised retread of the Mongols (look in your encyclopedia for the birth name of Genghis Khan), though made redheads for some reason.  That said, I read the whole thing in two quick sittings, and I'm enjoying it more than Engineer so far.

Four stars for this installment.

To Make a "Star Trek" by G. Harry Stine

You know our favorite TV SF show has made the big time when Analog makes it the topic of the nonfiction science article!  Stine, a model rocket enthusiast, offers up a fascinating bit of background on the program, including praises of its implementation of technology, and some behind-the-scenes information that must have come straight from show-runner Roddenberry (indeed, this schematic of the Enterprise has been reprinted in current Trekzines.

Four stars, and a must read for Kirk/Spock buffs.

"If the Sabot Fits … " by Leigh Richmond and Walt Richmond


by Kelly Freas

The psychic man-and-wife author team returns with this mildly diverting piece.  A series of catastrophic computer failures in a Midwest town coincides with a particular broadcast at a public education station.  Could there be a connection?

I'm not sure if the science is sound, but it might be–Walt is an electrical engineer (Leigh, reportedly, just types his mental emanations, but I suspect she is actually the storytelling talent of the pair).

It's not bad.  Three stars.

Peek! I See You! by Poul Anderson


by John H. Sanchez

A freelance helicopter pilot spots a flying saucer out in the southwest desert.  The aliens, who have already made contact with a local population, do their best to avoid widening their diplomatic contacts.

I appreciate the idea of alien relations with individual nations/groups as opposed to with planets as a whole.  Science fiction writers tend to forget that planets are big places, and they can house more than one embassy/colony/climate.

But.

The story is twice as long as it needs to be, and Poul really doesn't do "light and funny" competently, certainly not in the same league as Laumer, Harrison, or Sheckley.

Two stars.

Dowsers Detect Enemy's Tunnels, by Hanson W. Baldwin

"American soldiers find tunnels in Vietnam, a country riddled with underground passageways.  ONLY DOWSERS CAN BE THE REASON!"

Seriously, John?  One star.

The God Pedlars, by Jack Wodhams


by Kelly Freas

The ugh continues.  An interstellar corporation is selling computers to primitive tribesmen.  The pitch: they are actually idols representing a great and wise god.  These "gods" tell the indigenes how to live their lives, build technology, etc.  Of course, it's all for the good of the natives.

In addition to being a rather specious premise, this isn't really a story.  It's a mouthpiece and a straw man having a conversation such that the point is beaten into the reader with a mallet.

Editor Campbell would give this story five stars.  I give it one.

Optimum Pass, by W. Macfarlane


by Leo Summers

Last up, a sequel to Free Vacation, in which Layard and his fat partner (he never gets a name, but his girth is an important aspect of his character) manage to get themselves thrown in the pokey again such that they can get another free trip to an alien world.  Their official mission is to tough out 30 days to determine the suitability of the planet for colonization.  Their personal mission to look for evidence of "The Prodromals", the original galactic civilization.

More light fun, albeit a bit less coherent than the last tale.  Still, three stars.

Unbalanced scale

Despite the auspicious beginning, this month's issue of Analog finished at 2.7 stars, making it the least of the February 1968 magazines.  Even Amazing scored slightly higher (still 2.7 when rounded), followed by IF (2.8), Fantasy & Science Fiction (3.1), New Worlds (3.3), and Galaxy (a slightly higher 3.3)

It was actually a good month for good fiction: out of six magazines released, one could fill two, possibly three with exceptional (four and five star) stuff.  Women, on the other hand, continue to be underrepresented, with just 7% of published new fiction.

So, while Analog was a mixed blessing this month, all in all, the pages of the digests made for much more pleasant reading than the newspapers.  Would that we could have good news in both.  I guess we'll see how February fares.  It is my birthday month; surely that counts for something!

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Movies, TV

[January 22, 1968] The Magical Mystery Tour (February 1968 Fantasy and Science Fiction…plus the Beatles movie!)

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by Gideon Marcus

A small pond

We have exciting tidbits from both sides of The Pond today, so stay tuned for both.  But first up, the latest issue of Fantasy and Science Fiction.

I got a letter from Ted White the other day.  Seems he's no longer assistant editor over at F&SF, which is a shame.  Apparently, he was once under consideration for editor at Fantastic (and possibly Amazing) back when Celle Goldsmith (Lalli) left!  Boy, would that have been an interesting tenure–certainly more interesting than what we got under Sol Cohen.

Anyway, keep reading, because this isn't the only time Ted's name will come up.


by Ronald Walotsky

The Colonies

Stranger in the House, by Kate Wilhelm

We've been seeing a lot more of Kate Wilhelm, lately, which is generally a good thing.  Stranger seems as if it will be a fairly typical, if sinister, haunted house story.  A middle-aged couple moves into a house in the country, a surprisingly good deal, to escape the hustle and bustle of the city after the husband suffers a heart attack.  Immediately, the wife begins to suffer fainting spells and strange visions.  A little research uncovers that, since 1920, the place has seen an inordinate number of deaths and inexplicable illnesses amongst its ocuppants.

Is it a vengeful spook?  Radon poisoning?  Actually, as we quickly learn, it's an alien in the basement.  Not just any alien: this one was sent on a first contact expedition.  The hope of its race was that they would get to see that transient moment when a species first makes the jump into space.

The problem is, said aliens are hideous, live in a toxic atmosphere, shed acid, and communicate via a telepathy that is about as conducive to human communication as an icepick in the forehead.  How, then, can there be a meeting of the minds?

I love a good "first contact" story, and I appreciate that Wilhelm has created a truly alien being.  What keeps this piece from excellence are a couple of factors.  For one, it is overlong for what it does.  More importantly, much of the story, particularly that told from the alien's point of view, is detached and told in past tense.  This lack of immediacy in a story that deals with turbulent emotions puts a muffling gauze over the proceedings.  I wonder, in fact, if the whole story might have been improved by only including the human viewpoint.

Three stars.

The Lucky People, by Albert E. Cowdrey

Why stay hitched to three channels on the boob tube when you can watch the cannabalistic mutants that prey on your neighbors from the comfort of your own picture window?

Notable for being the first mention of Star Trek I've seen in print science fiction, it is a cute but frivolous tale.

Three stars.

The Stars Know, by Mose Mallette

A young ad exec, graduate of Dr. Ferthumlunger's 40-week handwriting analysis course, is convinced that his boss, the comely Lorna D., is in love with him.  How else to explain "the sex-latent capitals, the rounded n's and m's, the generous o's and a's, and the unmistakably yearning ascenders in late."

Never mind that the note which our hero has examined is an angry exhortation to get his work done on time.

The misunderstanding continues, with Lorna actually becoming infatuated with the exec, but said exec steadfastedly refuses to believe it, analysis of subsequent notes revealing (so he believes) that she isn't interested at all.  Of course, he doesn't actually read the contents of the notes.  He only looks at the handwriting.

What seems a silly story at first is actually, upon further analysis, an indictment of those who miss the forest for the trees: the mystics, numerologists, saucer enthusiasts, and what have you, who ignore the evidence and invent their own patterns to reinforce their beliefs.  It's really quite brilliant satire!

Or…perhaps I'm reading too much meaning into the thing.

Three stars.


by Gahan Wilson

Aperture in the Sky, by Theodore L. Thomas

Thomas' essays are usually not worth the single page they are written on.  This time, however, he's hit on a good'n: artificial satellites designed to occult radio sources for better measurement of their distance.  It sounds rather brilliant to me.

Four stars.

From a Terran Travel Folder, by Walter H. Kerr

Less successful is this one page program, I think advising aliens on the joy of eating people.  I read it a few times and did not find myself enjoying it.

Two stars.

He Kilt It with a Stick, by William F. Nolan

Then we hit the nadir of the issue.  The author of Logan's Run offers up a tale of a man who hates cats and does horrible things to them until they get their inevitable, macabre revenge.

Not only is this story cliché in the extreme, but if I never read another account of cruelty to cats, it'll be too soon.

One star.  For shame.

Wednesday, Noon, by Ted White

Quality returns with this short piece by Ted White.  When the rapture comes, the music may not be heavenly in origin, but it'll be compelling, all the same.  This story took a whopping three and a half years to be printed from the date of submission (latter 1964), but I'm glad it finally made it.  White has a real knack for living in his characters, conveying their sensory experience and internal monologues with visceral effectiveness.  Wilhelm's piece could have used his touch, I think.

It helps that White lives in New York, the setting of the story, and lived through that brutal summer when Martha Reeves' classic first hit the airwaves…

Four stars.

The Locator, by Robert Lory

Gerald Bufus, accountant, is meticulous to the extreme.  He also has a hobby: tracking the visitations of flying saucers to ensure he can one day be present at a landing.  Sadly, his overwhelming addiction to symmetry compells him to greet the alien ship at the exact center of their predicted arrival site.

Three stars.

I Have My Vigil, by Harry Harrison

The three human crewmembers of the first interstellar flight go mad in hyperspace, and presently, none are left alive aboard the vessel except the one robot steward, who mechanically goes through the motions of serving the dead humans.

The twist at the end is ambiguous: has the robot also gone insane?  Or is he actually a fourth crewmember, who has retreated behind a fictional metal shell in his own kind of insanity?

Four stars.

To Hell with the Odds, by Robert L. Fish

I love "deal with the Devil" stories, and this one, about a washed-up golfer who bargains to win this year's Open, is great all the way up to the end…where it flubs the finish.  The problem I have is the clumsy phrasing of his final wish (an attempt to get out of the deal, which of course backfires,) given that he had 18 holes to perfect it.

Three stars.

The Predicted Metal, by Isaac Asimov

The Good Doctor continues his series on the discovery of metals, this time recounting the creation of the Periodic Table.  It's a fine piece, but I feel as if it was recycled from his 1962 book, The Search for the Elements.

Four stars.

The Veiled Feminists of Atlantis, by Booth Tarkington

The last is a 40-year old piece.  Two scholars meet to discuss a legend of Atlantis in which the women not only win equality, but then fight a cataclysmic war with Atlantean men for the right to retain the distinction of their femininity–the veil.

Tarkington wrote the piece to poke a bit of fun at the war between the sexes that was waging in the 20s, whereby women had the temerity not only to demand the vote, but also to engage in male or female fashion and hobbies as they chose, and men were affronted by their cheek.

Interesting as an artifact, I suppose.  Three stars.

Summing up

All in all, a decent but not outstanding magazine this month.  And now onto something in an entirely different vein…


by Fiona Moore

At the outset of The Magical Mystery Tour, which premiered in black and white on Boxing Day but which was released in colour on 5 January this year, we are promised the “trip of a lifetime,” and, later on, we are assured that everyone is “having a lovely time.” Whether or not this includes the viewer is more open to question.

The Mystery Bus attempting to flee its critics.

The movie has the loose framing premise of Ringo Starr taking his Auntie Jessie on a Mystery Bus tour, in the company of the other Beatles, a few swinging hip types, an assortment of British pensioners who seem a little nonplussed by the proceedings, and The Courier, a Number Two figure who leads the tour assisted by Miss Winters and Alf the Driver. What follows is a series of short musical interludes featuring a selection of numbers from the eponymous album, interspersed with sketches that are a cargo-cult cross between At Last The 1948 Show and The Prisoner, which seem to miss the point of either.

There’s a sketch with a sergeant-major drilling the tour participants; a sort of school games’ day and car race around an airfield or test track (featuring Angelo Muscat, the Butler in The The Prisoner); a whirlwind romance between Auntie Jessie and a character named Buster Bloodvessel; a tent in a middle of a field that turns out to be bigger on the inside than on the outside. But no real sense of what all this is supposed to be saying to the audience.

Yes, but why?

The highlights of the film are definitely the musical interludes. “Flying”, when seen in colour, is actually rather beautiful (which is rather lost in the black and white version). There are also short films for “Blue Jay Way,” featuring George Harrison playing on a chalk-drawing piano, and “Fool on the Hill”, with Paul McCartney standing on, well, a hill. Everything really comes together, though, in “I Am the Walrus”, with the surreal costumes of the performers echoing the imagery of the song, and the Beatles all seem to be enjoying themselves. This is far from true of the other sketches, in which John and, in particular, George seem more than a little surly.

Everyone having a lovely time, apparently.

The film hit its nadir, for me, with a rather disgusting dream sequence of Auntie Jessie being served mountains of sloppy spaghetti by John Lennon in a restaurant, while the bus crew sit around half-naked drinking milk. Similarly peculiar was the decision to have a sequence where the Bonzo Dog Doo-Dah Band perform their song “Death Cab for Cutie” in a strip club complete with stripper, watched by George and John. And the movie more or less ends right there, with that sequence going straight into a 1950s Hollywood-musical-style production of “Your Mother Should Know.”

I’d say this is definitely one for Beatles completists more than anything else.

Two out of Five stars.

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Science Fiction/Fantasy, TV

[January 18, 1968] I Would Advise Yas ta Keep Watching (Star Trek: "A Piece of the Action")

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by Tam Phan (Secret Asian Man)

It’s hard to contain the joy that this episode brings to my heart. I’m a sucker for gangster films, like “Ocean's Eleven” and “Bonnie and Clyde”, but I have to admit, I’m always wary when a film does time travel. Period pieces tend to get things wrong one way or another, but “A Piece of the Action” somehow gets it all wrong in exactly the right way. This episode is chock full of amusing interactions that will engage you if for no other reason than it being delightfully fun.

Earth-like alien planets with humanoid populations have awkwardly made their way into Star Trek (e.g. "Miri", "A Taste of Armageddon"). This time, we finally get a plausible explanation for one. In this week's episode, the Enterprise is ordered to report to Sigma Iotia II. The spaceship Horizon went missing about 100 years earlier and is suspected to have contaminated the culture of the planet. Kirk, Spock, and McCoy beam down to the planet’s surface to meet with a Mr. Oxmyx to see what they can do about the contamination.


Let the contamination begin!

They are greeted by armed men wielding Tommy guns in an old-fashioned city suspiciously similar to America in the 1920s. Our landing party is escorted to see Oxmyx and discover that the Horizon crew left an old Earth book called “Chicago Mobs of the Twenties” on the planet. It was mentioned that the Iotians are imitative, which would account for their desire, given a blueprint, to emulate our past. It explains the culture and style, but it's clear the mimicry is skin-deep, which makes sense if they only have one book to go on. For example, during their negotiations, Oxmyx haphazardly shoots billiard balls around the table, and in the next scene when the henchmen are playing poker, it’s not any version that I’ve ever seen. It’s convincing until it’s not, but it’s convincing because it’s not.


"Don't tell me how to play Old Maid!"

Kirk interrupts their game to show them fizzbin (a fictitious game in which Kirk improvises the rules). It’s so absurd that he contradicts himself while explaining the rules of the game. Do you want a third Jack or not? Only Kirk knows. While the henchmen are distracted, Spock and McCoy clobber their captors and successfully escape to the radio station. Kirk decides to split off to find Oxmyx and is captured by Krako’s men. Typical.

Krako, Boss of the south side territory, is seen awkwardly throwing darts over his shoulder before Kirk enters, escorted by Krako’s men. He attempts to negotiate a deal with Kirk that would make Krako top Boss. Kirk isn't necessarily opposed; his aims aren't actually that different from that of the Iotians: Each Boss wants to take enough territory to become top Boss and Kirk thinks a unified government is a good idea, too. The difference is method–Kirk wants negotiation to determine the top Boss, not war. The deal falls through, of course. Krako doesn’t seem like the type to negotiate, stating that, “the book tells us how to handle things.”

A wild series of events ultimately gives Koik the perfect excuse to play a hunch. If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em. Koik and Spahck don the local garb and comically make their way back over to Krako’s place. The deal is that the Fed is takin’ over and he’s offered a piece of the pie, but little does he know, Koik’s got other plans. They put the bag on all the mob bosses while Krako’s on ice, ya see. Koik shows a small display of power and negotiates a deal to have Oxmyx be the head of the Syndicate with Krako as his lieutenant. The Federation gets a 40% cut.


What happens when you mess with the Federation.

This episode gives us a lighthearted look at the mob and a unique perspective on how an alien species might mimic a culture. Without minor details to guide them, it’s understandable that they wouldn’t know the rules to 9-ball, poker, or darts. Shatner’s Shatnerisms played well in this setting, and it was fantastic to see Spock have every logical reason to not object to Kirk playing a hunch. Not only that, but he gets to deliver the best line in the episode (adapted to title this article). The supporting cast was wonderful, and I’ve got no beef with this episode.

Five stars.

Against the Odds


by Lorelei Marcus

I will be the first to admit that, despite all it accomplishes, Star Trek has some major recurring flaws. Any show, particularly one that presents a world technologically beyond anything we can understand today, requires a modicum of suspension of disbelief. Such suspension becomes tested as increasingly outlandish claims are thrown around by the characters (particularly our beloved Captain Kirk) and such theories become the basis of the solution for an entire episode. Think Kirk divining the original purpose of the Doomsday Machine, or Jack the Ripper's ghost haunting across space-time (seriously THAT'S the most logical explanation for a series of interplanetary murders?) Sometimes the setup itself can destroy one's immersion, like "Miri" beginning with a planet completely identical to Earth. Or maybe it's a contradiction of preestablished rules in the universe that breaks an episode; Kirk seems to conveniently forget about the Federation's noninterference clause in "The Apple" and "Return of the Archons".

"A Piece of the Action" does everything I've mentioned above, but it does it right. I had my doubts when I first saw the preview for this episode. The Tommy guns and pinstripe suits made me expect another time travel jaunt like "City on the Edge of Forever". Instead, the explanation for the 20s gangster background is quite reasonable and SFnal: a hundred years ago the Federation tampered with a preindustrial planet, and the society of that planet has been modeled around the information the Federation left for them, including a textbook on gangs in the twentieth century. How concise and satisfying an explanation! And it also provides reason for why the Federation later implemented the noninterference clause – to avoid situations like this.


Imagine what they might have found if the Horizon had left the Bible…

This is the cue for Kirk, in his cowboy Kirk fashion, to decide that the structure of the society is not up to his personal moral standards and therefore he has the right to change it. Except this time it makes sense. As Kirk explains the episode, the anarchist state of this planet is the Federation's fault, and in this special case the noninterference clause has limited application because they have to fix the damage they've caused.

Even then, they try to minimize contact between the natives and Starfleet's advanced technology to allow the society to progress and mature on its own course. This has the added bonus of leading to some rather amusing fistfights.

Finally, while the solution of the episode does rest on Kirk's hunch, this too is set up in advance. Kirk both consults the ship's computer and Spock to suss out a logical course of action to save the planet. Only when both sources fail to give him answers does he decide to act on instinct instead. And when he finally carries out his plan, it actually makes sense! He manages to unite all of the gangs into a central government by posing as a larger, more threatening authority. All it takes is Shatner's progressively more dramatic Chicago accent.

I couldn't give this episode higher praise. It elegantly evades the pitfalls of Star Trek while also telling an engaging, funny, and science fiction story.

Five stars.

Embracing the Absurd: A Motto


by Andrea Castaneda

Truth be told, I had a difficult time formulating my thoughts for this episode. At first, I wanted to discuss the themes of authoritarianism. Then I was tempted to look at the governmental structures of a “lawless” society. But the more I thought back on the episode, the more I realized I was overthinking it. “A Piece of the Action” had me laughing with delight rather than putting me in deep thought. And perhaps that was the intention: a lighthearted way to play “cops and robbers” through the world of Star Trek. But even if one can peel back the layers, one can glean a simple lesson: when you find yourself standing in absurdity, embrace it.

First and foremost, I have to commend the writers for playing to Shatner’s strengths. From the comically over the top accent to donning a pinstripe suit, you could tell Shatner was having a gas the entire time. If I were a betting woman, I would wager good money that he was bouncing up and down in his chair as he read the script. Spock, meanwhile, did an excellent job at playing the “straight man” to Kirk’s ostentatiousness. His rigid and awkward attempts at playing a mobster not only highlighted how ridiculous the situation was, but also gave us some great deadpan deliveries.

As for the story itself, well, we’ve established how absurd the premise is. In fact the show explicitly states that there are no logical solutions out of this, shown when Spock goes through his various computer simulations. So, what can the crew of the Enterprise do? The only “logical” thing: outdo the absurdity. And that’s where the episode shines.


"What's the computer suggest, Spock?" "I've…got…zilch."

A mobster henchman foreshadows the concept at the start of the episode, telling Kirk, Spock, and McCoy “that innocent act don’t work on me.” And as predicted, their attempts at peaceful diplomacy only get them into more trouble. But their luck starts to turn when Kirk realizes the mobsters, in all their bluster and moxie, are pretty easy to manipulate. Playing to their sense of stubborn pride, he makes up a card game and flatters them enough to get them to drop their guard. When dealing with the bosses, he learns to come down to their level, framing concepts like taxes into terms they understand. Finally by the end of the episode, Kirk has smooth talked his way into becoming the head honcho of this cartoonish cabal of bosses and wise guys. It’s ludicrous, but still plausible enough to work.

This episode could have very easily become inane, puerile, and flat out stupid. But the self awareness from the writers and actors alike, combined with Shatner’s enthusiasm, gave it a charm that had us laughing along with them the entire way.

If I were one for clichés, I could say that embracing absurdity is a lesson we all can benefit from from time to time. But being realistic, I would say the writers wanted a palate cleanser for what appears to be a much heavier episode next week. We’ll see. In the meantime, I’ll be rummaging through my closet to see if I have anything pinstripe.

Four stars.

Pinch-hitting


by Gideon Marcus

Last week, I noted that the usual show runners had gone AWOL, to the detriment of the episode's quality.  This week, I was made trepidatious by the unknown names "David P. Harmon" (writer) and "James Komack" (director).  Moreover, the previews had led me to believe that this was going to be another silly time travel episode.

In fact, what we got was not only a thoroughly entertaining second-contact story, but one of the best made episodes of Star Trek we've seen in a while.

The editing and cinematography is some of the crispest and original we've seen to date.  There's nary a flat moment, thanks to the quick cutting and innovative camera wrangling.  Even the music, which I think was entirely from the library, fit the episode to a "T" – from the lilting strains lifted from "The Trouble with Tribbles" to the bombshell introduction tune from "Mudd's Women".

The director did an excellent job of reining in Mr. Shatner this time around.  While many of his favorite tics were on display, they did service in differentiating "Koik the Boss" from "Kirk the Captain."  And while Shatner often shone, he did not steal the scene.

Part of that was the snappy writing that put truly funny and effective lines in the mouths of Bones, Spock, and Scotty.  Part was the performances Komack elicited from his stars.  Even Uhura, though she gets very few lines, is memorable; the smile she gets when she realizes what Kirk has planned for Jojo Krako is just delightful.

Speaking of which, how about those guest stars?  Anthony Caruso (Bela Oxymyx) is an old hand, of course, and Vic Tayback, who is everywhere these days, and who does a creditable impression of George C. Scott in The Yellow Rolls Royce, is fantastic as Krako.


George C. Tayback

Finally, the sartorial touch of giving each gang's henchmen different headgear (fedoras for Oxmyx, straw hats for Krako's, bowlers for Tepo's) was brilliant.

Five stars!

This week, the Enterprise will be fighting the paramecium of doom!

Join us tomorrow at 5:00 PM Pacific (8:00 Eastern) or at 8:00 PM Pacific (11:00 Eastern)!



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Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[January 16, 1968] Worthy programming (February 1968 Galaxy)

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by Gideon Marcus

On the small screen

A few weeks ago, President Johnson signed into effect the Public Broadcasting Act.  Its purpose, among other things, is to turn a decentralized constellation of educational stations and program producers into a government-funded network.  It's basically socialism vs. the vast wasteland.

Given the quality of programming I've seen produced by National Education Television, particularly on independent station KQED-San Francisco (e.g. "Jazz Casual" and "The Rejected"), I am all for this move.  Indeed, I've recently come across a show that has really sold me on public television.

NET Journal is a series on political matters of the day.  In December, they had a program that showed the results of a week-long workshop in which 12 affluent young men and women of a multitude of ethnicities lived together and discussed their prejudices.  What they determined was surprising to them, and maybe to us.  As we saw in the film Guess Who's Coming to Dinner, even in the most bleeding heart liberal, there is prejudice; and it's not just directed from whites to minorities.

This week, we caught an interview with four journalists in Saigon.  Recently, LBJ and General Westmoreland have been cheerleading the effort in Vietnam, saying that the three-year commitment of half a million troops is bearing fruit.  The South Vietnam-based journalists dispute this rosy view.  They say progress has been slow, that the South Vietnamese army is hopelessly corrupt and must be reformed from the head down if it is to operate effectively without American support, and that we are not engaged in "nation-building" because there is currently no nation.  The elections are meaningless so long as there be no real choices to be made, so long as bribes and payoffs accomplish more than the rule of law.

Withering stuff.  Next week, the program will be on draft-dodgers.

On the small page

Galaxy Science Fiction is also an exellent, long-running source of information and entertainment.  This month's issue is a particularly good example.


by Jack Gaughan

A Tragedy of Errors, by Poul Anderson

Anderson has established a reputation for producing some of the "hardest" SF around, laden with astrophysical tidbits.  On the other hand, his quality varies from sublime to threadbare.  Luckily, his latest novella lies far closer to the former end of the scale.

Tragedy takes place in what appears to be the far future of his Polysotechnic League history.  The loose interstellar confederation of planets became an empire and subsequently went into decline a la the worlds in H. Beam Piper's Space Viking universe and Asimov's Foundation setting.  I really like these "after the fall" stories of folks trying to patch a polity back together, maybe better than it was before.


by Gray Morrow

This particular story is the tale of Roan Tom, Dagny, and Yasmin, the crew of the merchant-pirate Firedrake.  Their ship is in desperate need of repairs, and the only planet within range of the married trio is a Mars-sized world around a swollen orange sun.  Luckily, said world was once a human colony of the Empire and thus may have the resources needed to fix a starship.

Unluckily, the planet has been recently plundered by pirates, and the inhabitants do not take kindly to strangers–especially ones that call themselves "friends."

There's a lot to like about this riproaring tale of aerial maneuvers, overland evasion, and fast-talking diplomacy.  For one, two of the main characters are women, and highly competent ones at that.  Moreover, it is an ensemble cast, with each of the three coming into the spotlight for extended periods of time.

There is also a mystery of sorts, here…or several, really, all woven together: how does this undersized planet have an atmosphere?  Indications are that this is a young world, but why, then, does the dense planet have so little surface metal?  And why is the star so unstable, prone to devastating solar storms that play hell with the planet's weather?  Solving this astronomical puzzle proves key to addressing the Firedrake crew's more immediate problems.

Of course, you have to like detailed explanations of stellar and planetary parameters and phenomena.  I personally love this sort of thing, but others may find their eyes glazing.  On the other hand, there's plenty to enjoy even if you decide to let the science wash over you.  The sanguine antics of Roan Tom, the determined toughness of Dagny, the more refined and tentative brilliance of Yasmin.  These are great characters, and I'd like to see more of them.

Four stars.

The Planet Slummers, by Terry Carr and Alexei Panshin

A pair of young thrift store bargain hunters are, in turn, scooped up by a pair of alien specimen collectors.  I think the story is supposed to be ironic, or symbolic, or something.

Forgettable.  Two stars.

Crazy Annaoj, by Fritz Leiber


by Jack Gaughan

Ah, but then we have the story of a different couple: a superannuated trillionaire and a dewy (but flinty) eyed young starlet.  There's is a love fated for the ages, but not the way you might think.

Just a terrific tale told the way only Leiber (or maybe Cordwainer Smith) could tell it.

Five stars.

Street of Dreams, Feet of Clay, by Robert Sheckley


by Vaughn Bodé

Imagine moving to the city of the future: clean, architecturally pleasing, smog-free, crammed with creature comforts.  Now imagine the city is run by a computer brain…with the personality of a Jewish mother.

Bob Sheckley is Jewish, so I suspect he didn't have to strain his imagination much for this one.  Droll, but a little too painful and one-note to be great.

Three stars.

For Your Information: Epitaph for a Lonely Olm, by Willy Ley

This is a pretty dandy story about a sightless cave salamander that lives its whole life in the water, thus eschewing the amphibian portion of its nature.  Thanks to this creature, we have the concept of "neoteny"–the retention of juvenile traits for evolutionary advantage.  The blind, pale beast also ensured the fame of Marie von Chauvin, a 19th Century zoologist.

Four stars.

Sales of a Deathman, by Robert Bloch


by Jack Gaughan

How do we combat the exploding birth rate?  By making suicide sexy, thus exploding the death rate!

Bloch's modest proposal would be better suited to a three line comedy routine than a several-page vignette.  Three stars.

Total Environment, by Brian W. Aldiss


by Jack Gaughan

Crammed into a ten-story self-contained habitat, 75,000 persons of Indian descent live a life of increasing desperation and squalor.  At first, we are given to believe that the settlement is a natural response to the crushing pressure of overpopulation.  As it turns out, the Ultra-High Density Research Establishment (UHDRE) is actually a deliberate experiment in inducing psychic abilities through exposure to unique pressures.  Just 25 years ago, the site had a population of only 1500.  Now, teeming to bursting, the hoped-for psionic adepts are appearing–and an empire in a teapot is arising on UHDRE's Top Deck to take advantage of them.

Aldiss writes a compelling story.  One thinks it's just the second coming of Harrison's Make Room!  Make Room! until it isn't.  In some ways, this actually hurts the story, causing it to lose focus.  On the other hand, the setting is so well-drawn, and the situation suspenseful enough, that it still engages and entertains.

Four stars.

How They Gave It Back, by R. A. Lafferty


by Gray Morrow

The last mayor of Manhattan finds The Big Apple isn't worth the bother, now that it's degenerated into a ruined, gangland state run by a quintet of bandits.  Thankfully, the original owners will buy it back–for its original fee.

Again, this might have made a humorous short bit.  As is, you see the punchline from the first words (the title and illo help), and the slog isn't worth the ending.

Two stars.

The Big Show, by Keith Laumer


by Wallace Wood

Last up, a frothy adventure featuring a TV star recruited to infilitrate the last cannibal island in the South Pacific to thwart a nefarious Soviet scheme.  This is yet another in the recent spate of stories involving total sensory television in which hundreds of millions viscerally experience the lives of actors.

Unlike Kate Wilhelm's or George Collyn's spin on the subject, Laumer doesn't do very much with the gimmick.  Instead, it's another of his midly amusing but eminently forgettable yarns.

Two stars.

Summing up

Despite a sprinkling of clunkers, the latest Galaxy delivers the goods.  Two good novellas, a fine nonfiction piece, and an excellent Lieber short would have filled F&SF nicely.  So just pretend that the other stories don't exist and enjoy the good stuff.

And then tune in to NET Journal the next few weeks while you wait for the next issue!



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Science Fiction/Fantasy, TV

[January 12, 1968] Shatner Trek: Arena of Triskelion (Star Trek: "The Gamesters of Triskelion")

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by Tam Phan (Secret Asian Man)

Nichelle Nichols is a delight so it’s always exciting to see Uhura on the bridge in the opening scene, and after Walter Koenig’s performance in the last episode, I was really looking forward to more Chekov. When they were both called to be part of the landing crew at Gamma II, my hopes were high that this might be a repeat performance of “I, Mudd”. Unfortunately, “The Gamesters of Triskelion” featured William Shatner, and little else.

Immediately after stepping on the transporter platform, Kirk and the party were abruptly teleported away by an unknown force. They were met by hostiles on a planet that was clearly not Gamma II. While Uhura and Chekov were quickly captured, Kirk went on to not just best his opponent, but continue to fight until he was blindsided by another hostile. Upon which, they were greeted by, “Galt, master thrall of the planet Triskelion” who is tasked with training those that have been abducted by The Providers.


"All I want for Christmas is a pair of arms."

Meanwhile, on the Enterprise, Spock, McCoy, and Scotty are doing everything they can to figure out what happened to their captain and crewmates. In their typical way, Spock and McCoy share a moment of banter that adds some levity to the situation as their search continues. The interactions on the Enterprise continue to escalate as McCoy and Scotty disagree with Spock following a trail leading them nearly a dozen light years away from Gamma II. It’s not uncommon for McCoy to be at odds with Spock, but Scotty usually has a good head on his shoulders when it comes to command. This was not one of those times. As commanding officer, and apparently the only person currently with any sense, Spock continues to follow the trail that, you’ve already guessed, eventually leads to Triskelion.


"Have you looked under your bed, Spock?  How about on Mars?  We should check all the angles before following your hunch.  Who do you think you are?  The acting-captain?"

On Triskelion, Kirk, Uhura, and Chekov attempt to escape but quickly discover that the collars they wear are not fashionable accessories, but a means to correct and control them. A few questionable interactions later we find Kirk seducing his Barbarella-esque drill thrall, imposing his sense of western morality, and then exercising his physical prowess yet again. (Let’s be honest, there are a few questionable interactions during this scene as well.)

“What is so questionable,” you might ask? It wasn’t enough that one of the thralls enters Uhura’s chambers and we are left to wonder if something horribly indecent is happening over an entire commercial break, but a bound black man is brought out to be an exercise dummy during their training. That is until Kirk comes to the rescue and redirects the torture onto himself and is resurrected… sorry, wrong story… proceeds to defeat his torturer, a thrall that is quite literally twice his size, by strangling him from behind. I may not be a martial artist (well, okay, I am) but it doesn’t seem like Kirk took much advantage of the brute’s weak left eye, as he was advised to do. Obviously, dispatching armed opponents twice his size is just a day in the life of David. I’m sorry, I keep getting my stories mixed up. Must be all the biblical references Spock keeps making (apparently Vulcans don't have their own bible.)


"You do realize how tacky this is, right?"

The Providers are so impressed that they have a bidding war over who gets to own the “newcomers” and at this point, it shouldn’t be lost on anyone that the Providers are slave masters betting on gladiators.

If that wasn’t enough William Shatner for you, he’s featured shirtless and sporting a training harness for the rest of the episode as he charms his battle-hardened drill thrall, attempts to escape, and outsmarts The Providers by agreeing to battle three thralls to free himself, his crew, and the remaining thralls. He wins, of course. Was there any doubt?


"How about a real wager? If I win, I get to dress like this all the time."

Ultimately, the Enterprise reaching Triskelion did nothing but put the rest of the crew in danger, Uhura’s and Chekov’s involvement had little significance to the plot, and Kirk is our savior against an omnipotent being once again.

This is one of the hopefully rare occasions where the writing, directing, and editing failed to deliver. Appropriate with the number of characters featured in this episode, I rate it one star.

The B Team


by Gideon Marcus

Last year, Green Beret Gary Sadler warbled eloquent over the virtues of "Twelve Men, invincible… the A Team".  The latest episode of Trek was very definitely the product of The B Team.

We always scan the credits eagerly at the beginning of each episode.  Many is the time we've been treated with the bylines of some of our favorite science fiction authors.  Even when one turns in a substandard script ("paging Bob Bloch, Mr. Bob Bloch…"), there's still the thrill of being able to say, "I know that guy!"  And if a writer be unknown, the director is often one of a stable of familiar names: Marc Daniels, Joseph Pevney, Ralph Senensky.

This time, we got a script by a "Margaret Armen" and a director named "Gene Nelson".  While it's always nice to see the creative wealth spread around, this time the new talent let us down.

For one thing, we've now gotten to the point where writers are portraying caricatures of our favorite characters rather than developing them.  In this episode, McCoy and Scotty spend endless hours bickering with acting-Captain Spock.  While it's true that McCoy loves to take an adversarial position with respect to the Vulcan, Scotty does not (recall that he was the only one to have no truck with the insubordinate nonsense of "The Galileo Seven".) Uhura and Chekov might as well not even exist, despite a tantalizing promise of activity. 


Nichols and Koenig are stunned to learn they won't have any more lines this episode.

Instead, we get Kirk nobly educating the savages and their masters about the virtues of democracy and freedom.  Even more, we are treated to every kink and fetish the writer has ever wanted expressed on celluloid.  Lurid harnesses from space-age materials, whips, pain collars, and more Shatnerian tongue than we've seen in all the prior episodes combined.

Speaking of Shatner, Gene Nelson's sin is not overdirection but lack of it.  Kirk's actor made it clear this summer that he was going to throw in more stylized, personal traits into the captain; Nelson let go of the leash, letting Shatner run wild.  The smarmy chuckle, the goggle-eyed outstretched arm and cry (which ends two of the acts), the hunched shoulder and wide-armed delivery, the…punctuated…delivery-of-lines.

Indeed, one wonders if Shatner had anything to do with the script revision process, because if he has any tendency toward line counting, he sure made certain he got 80% of the lines spoken this time around.  I like Trek best when it's an ensemble show.  This was the Kirk show.

Add to that the entirely recycled score, the recycled costumes, and the recycled sets (we don't even get to see the trinary sun), the recycled plots ("Arena", "Metamorphosis", "Menagerie") and Gamesters ends up a very tired affair.

1.5 stars (I liked the bit between Tamoun and Chekov, and also the fact that Uhura was able to fend off her would-be-rapist all by herself).

Do One Thing and Do it Well


by Joe Reid

I imagine some stories are a lot like people.  At some point in their lives men and women must decide who they are going to be.  They come to realize that the choice is theirs.  If that epiphany doesn’t come to them, they hopefully can accept who they do become, whether by intent or circumstance. 

This episode of Star Trek was striving to be something; sadly, it didn’t know what.  Did it intend to be a reminder of the wickedness of American chattel slavery, using the crew as the enslaved?  Was it trying to be a tale of manipulation of a naive innocent?  Perhaps it was an attempted telling of a mutiny on the Enterprise or a gladiator epic on an alien world or an echo of Forbidden Planet?

Knowing my history and seeing free people abducted from their homes, being restrained, and sold as property to me harkens back to the horrific institution of American slavery.  If that wasn’t clear enough, two other scenes in the episode drove it home for me.  In the first scene, Lars, one of the overseer thralls, attempts to force himself onto Uhura, who being “property” should have no right to refuse his advance.  Thankfully, our gal proved she was no helpless damsel.  The second scene involved an “alien”, looking unmistakably like a black man, about to be punished for disobedience by another overseer.  Uhura again refused to participate in that and was about to be punished in the man’s place, until Kirk stepped in to take her place.  These scenes might mean nothing to most people, but to me they clearly reflect our dark national history.  They blatantly demonstrated the subject in a way that grade schoolers could understand.  Then it suddenly chose to be something else entirely.  It became “Svengali”.

Beautiful, young, and inexperienced.  A woman is introduced to emotions and feelings she had never felt before by a seductive man.  Being violently manipulated by him, so that he could gain access to the hidden players behind the curtain…


"How can you resist me?  We're showing virtually the same amount of skin!"

Then it became “Ben Hur”.

“Captain” and his friends are forced to fight for their lives as gladiators for the amusement of powerful rulers, who see them as toys for their entertainment.  Can he beat the odds and survive the death games of Triskelion…

Then it became the comic strip “Barbarella”.

A silver-bikini clad minx fights and loves while trying to avoid the wrath of the unfeeling Providers… I’ll stop here. 

I found the thematic shifts in the episode jarring.  Especially since it attempted the last three things simultaneously, after ceasing to be a slavery epic.  I neglected to mention the poor man’s rendition of “The Bounty” back on the Enterprise.  An almost-mutiny with comical quips between emotional McCoy and logical Spock which fell flat for me.

This entry, with Five and Dime versions of Ming the Merciless and Deeja Thoris didn’t satisfy.  Had this episode tried to be one thing well, instead of many things poorly, it could have been better.  Sadly, the excellent characterizations of Uhura and Spock, were forgotten as the thematic layering took hold. 

Two stars

Neither Fish nor Fowl


by Janice L. Newman

A couple of weeks ago Robert Bloch attempted to mix supernatural horror with Star Trek’s style of science fiction, with uneven results. “The Gamesters of Triskelion” attempted a fusion of a different genre with science fiction: sword and sorcery, first born in the pulps and lately enjoying a revival. In the right hands, like those of Leigh Brackett, such a mix can be compelling and interesting.

Unfortunately, the author of the “Gamesters of Triskelion” script was not the right hands.


Is "Margaret Armen" actually a pen name for Jon Norman?

Simply throwing various elements from popular sword and sorcery stories into a blender does not make what comes out at the end a classic, especially when the elements chosen are: slavery, gladiatorial-style games, hand-to-hand combat with primitive weapons, grotesque yet humanoid monsters, physical punishments via whips, ‘magical’ punishments via devices, an evil ‘wizard’, and a naive maiden warrior who must be ‘taught’ what ‘love’ is.

Nor does taking various elements from Star Trek and throwing them into a blender make a good Star Trek episode. McCoy being intransigent with Spock, Kirk seducing a beautiful woman to secure his escape, Kirk getting his shirt ripped off, Kirk fighting a death match to the exciting strains of the “Amok Time” score…these have all been used to more or less good effect in previous episodes. Sadly, here they felt nonsensical, annoying, and contrived – to the point that the episode felt more like a piece an amateur might write for a fanzine than a polished script for a nationally-broadcast TV show.

In the end the result is neither a good sword and sorcery story nor a good Star Trek story.

One star.

Next episode might be better – don't miss Thoroughly Modern Billy (Shatner)!

Join us tonight at 5:00 PM Pacific (8:00 Eastern) or at 8:00 PM Pacific (11:00 Eastern)!



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Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy, Serial

[December 31, 1967] Surprise, surprise!  (January 1968 Analog)

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by Gideon Marcus

Evitability

There are some things you can count on in life: death, taxes, the North Vietnamese violating their own Christmas truce more than a hundred times.

But sometimes, life deals you surprises.  For instance, who knew that Hubert Humphrey was still alive?  Yet he must be kicking for he is currently in Africa on a goodwill tour of the continent.


And, as a fellow exclaimed when I gave him a preview of my thoughts on this month's issue of Analog, "A five star story in Analog?  Really?"

Well, it's true.  Read on and find out how it happened!

Expect the unexpected

The Bugs That Live at -423°, by Joseph Green and Fuller C. Jones

First off, a very long article on the teething troubles faced by the developers of the Centaur rocket.  This powerful second stage is used atop Atlas and Titan missiles to send big payloads to Earth's orbit and beyond.  To do so, it uses liquid hydrogen as a fuel, which entails a whole host of problems.

There is a lot of good information in here, but as is often the case in Analog science articles, its presentation is confusing.  There are no section breaks, so the whole thing runs together such that even I, a professional space historian, found my eyes glazing over.

I've no idea if "Joseph Green" is the same one who writes science fiction for UK magazines.  Probably not.

Anyway, three stars.

There is a Tide, by R. C. FitzPatrick and Leigh Richmond


by Kelly Freas

A couple of years ago, R. C. FitzPatrick started a series of stories about a surgeon who has perfected the technique of human brain transplants.  The first story was mildly interesting but prolonged, and the second veered heavily into the uncomfortable zone of eugenics.  After all, the transplant of a healthy brain requires a donor body…and it's hard to find ones that aren't inhabited, and don't even the feeble minded have the right to their own corpus?

Tide is the third story in the series, and by far the best.  There are two parallel, intersecting plots.  One involves a brilliant young physicist with inoperable cancer, who comes to the surgeon's sanatorium to wait for a suitable "transplant" candidate.  The second pertains to a self-styled "Duke" of organized crime.  Intelligent, ruthless, and aging, the mob boss wants a healthy body to get a new lease on life.  Surprisingly, the surgeon is willing to take the Duke's case, even before the mafioso breaks out the threats.

There are some important distinguishing characteristics between Tide and its predecessors.  For one, it is now stressed that only the truly brain-dead are eligible "donors".  It's not a matter of finding more value in a smart brain and a moronic one; only a virtually untenanted body is acceptable.  The writing is far more compelling in this piece, too, with lots of interesting asides that flesh out the characters and the world they inhabit.

But most importantly, the ethical issue is confronted head on.  It doesn't matter if the AMA or politicians or ethicists oppose the technology of brain transplants.  Once that genie is out of the bottle, someone will take advantage of it–if not the scrupulous, then the unscrupulous.  As the first (somewhat) successful human heart transplants of this month have shown, this technology is no longer a pipe dream.  We will someday have to face this issue.  I felt this story did a better job of addressing this problem than Niven's (still pretty good) The Jigsaw Man, which came out a couple of months ago.

So how did FitzPatrick manage to write such a good story when his others were middling or worse?  You'll notice the second name in the byline.  I have a strong suspicion that Leigh Richmond is responsible for most of this piece.  Certainly, she's the new variable.

Five stars.

… And Cauldron Bubble, by Bruce Daniels


by Kelly Freas

Of course, what goes up…

Bubble is a piece in epistolary form about a near future in which the United States has scientifically developed dowsing and other hocus pocus into a full cabinet department.  This would be a frivolous but diverting piece in F&SF, but knowing as I do that Analog's editor, John Campbell, actually believes in the efficacy of dowsing, well, it reads like propaganda.

Two stars.

The System, by Ben Bova

Bova offers up this two-page cautionary tale about the dangers of overdirection of scientific development.  It kind of steps on its own toes to make its message, though.

Two stars.

Such Stuff As Dreams …, by Sterling E. Lanier


by Kelly Freas

A dashing young space navy commander signs up to join a top secret spy organization that has the real power in the galaxy.  He is subjected to a number of tests, mostly to try his patience, before being given the final exam: a test of survival on an alien world.  The dangers are of monstrous, almost unbelievable proportion, and the candidate wonders why.

Of course, the title of the piece gives it away.

Competent but forgettable.  Three stars.

Dragonrider (Part 2 of 2), by Anne McCaffrey


by Kelly Freas

Lastly, the conclusion to what will likely be a three-part fixup novel.  The planet of Pern is faced with deadly peril: the Red Star approacheth, and with it, onslaughts of deadly rhysome "threads" that despoil all living things that they touch.  The only defense is fire-breathing, telepathic dragons flown by specially selected riders.  The problem is only one of the six dragonrider weyrs is still in operation, and that one is woefully understaffed.

F'lar, the head rider, thought he had a solution to this problem when he learned that Lessa, the rider of the dragon queen Ramoth, discovered the ability to ride her mount through time.  Last installment, the weyrleader sent his brother and a team back in time ten years to raise a new crop of dragons.  Unfortunately, living more than once in the same time is detrimental to one's health, and the endeavor was largely a failure.  Now, the only hope lies in the past, and an historical ballad about the wholesale departure of five weyrs some four hundred years ago–to destinations unknown…

There are the bones of an interesting novel here, although the gratuitous use of time travel as a plot point usually creates more problems than it solves.  Also, By His Bootstraps stories tend to be dull since you already know what's going to happen.

But the biggest problem here is that McCaffrey just isn't quite up to the story she's trying to tell.  A fine teller of short stories (The Woman in the Tower and The Ship Who Sang being standout examples), she struggles with the longer format.  Her characters are shallow and unpleasant.  The "romantic" relationship between Lessa and F'lar is disturbing when it isn't annoying.  Lessa's theme song might well be, "He Shook Me, and It Felt Like a Kiss", and the only ones privy to F'lar's love for Lessa are the readers since the weyrleader is determined never to show affection for his lady.  Ugh.

The doggerel that prefaces each chapter completes the mask of mediocrity on this promising tale.  Perhaps a combo of Jack Vance and Rosel George Brown (R.I.P.) could have done Dragonrider justice.  And maybe, as my colleague David suggests, a story between the first and second parts could have smoothed the transition (something to be fixed pending novelization?)

It really is a shame since it's rare to get a sweeping epic from the perspective of a woman, and the first part made me hopeful.  As is, this last segment, and the three-part story as a whole get three stars.

Doing the math

When you put it all together, the January 1968 issue of Analog ends up at 3.1 stars, just on the positive end of the ledger.  That actually puts it at the #2 spot for the month, just edging out IF (3.1), and losing to Fantasy and Science Fiction (3.3).  The rest of this month's mags finished below the middling mark, with Fantastic at 2.9, New Writings at 2.8, and the abysmal new Beyond Infinity garnering just 1.5.  As a result, though six magazines were released, you could fill just two of them with four and five star stories.

The big surprise, though, is the resurgence in feminine participation.  Women contributed 13% of the new short fiction produced this month.  While still a low number, it is comparatively enormous.  And more surprisingly, the bulk of the woman-penned work (at least by pages) was published in Analog.

If even fuddy duddy Campbell can produce a progressive mag, I think we've got good times in store as the calendar turns to 1968!  Happy New Year indeed…



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Science Fiction/Fantasy, TV

[December 28, 1967] Stumbling Bloch (Star Trek: "Wolf in the Fold")

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by Janice L. Newman

‘Twas a few nights before Christmas when we all gathered around our TV set for the newest episode of Star Trek. I felt a pang of fear more suited to October than December when I saw the episode’s byline: this was yet another Robert Bloch script.

Robert Bloch gave us What Are Little Girls Made Of? and Catspaw. It’s clear he has a taste for fantasy and horror, but less interest (or at least less skill) when it comes to writing science fiction. I hoped that this episode would be different. And for a while, it seemed like it was.

The episode opens with a scene on Argelius, a ‘pleasure planet’ where dwells a society of hedonists. Before the opening credits even play, though, one of the planet’s resident’s is murdered and Scotty is found holding the knife!

The circumstantial evidence is damning, but Scotty can’t remember anything. McCoy expresses concern that Scotty recently suffered a concussion and may therefore not be responsible for his actions. After some discussion with Hengist, an imported bureaucrat from Rigel Four, and Jaris, the plant’s prefect, McCoy and Kirk are allowed to beam down a “psycho tricorder”. This device, operated by a pretty lieutenant who beamed down with it, will supposedly produce a record of all of Scotty’s conscious and subconscious actions from the past day, enabling him to demonstrate that he isn’t guilty.

Unfortunately, the machine must be operated in private. Why is this unfortunate? Because no sooner are Scotty, the machine, and the lieutenant left alone together, than there’s a scream and Scotty is found once again standing over the body of a murdered woman.


"I can't leave you alone for a second!"

Since the modern approach to finding the truth hasn’t worked (and no one considers sending down another lieutenant, maybe a male one this time?) Jaris states that his wife, Sybo, will use her empathic contact talent to discern the truth. As she prepares herself for the ritual, we’re introduced to a couple of other interested parties: the father and the fiance of the first woman to be murdered. The fiance shamefacedly admits that he was ‘jealous’, clearly a great taboo in this hedonistic society.

Sybo begins her ritual, which is set up much like a seance. The group hold hands while seated around a low table, the lights are off, and Sybo cries out that there is evil present, finishing with a shouted, “Redjack! Redjack!” and a scream. When the lights come up, she is on her feet in front of Scotty, who watches with horror as she collapses, a knife clearly visible in her back.


"Don't give it to me, Scotty!  I don't want it!"

Up to this point I was actually enjoying the episode. I love mysteries, and have consumed plenty of the greats: Conan Doyle, Dickson Carr, Agatha Christie, Dorothy Sayers, you name it. I was ready for this to be a locked-room mystery with an unexpected solution.

Well, it did have an unexpected solution. But it wasn’t discovered via clever logic or deduction.

After the death of Sybo, Kirk and McCoy convince a grieving Jaris that the ship’s computer can give them the name of the murderer if they feed it enough data. When they begin doing so, their extrapolations make sense – at first. But Kirk and the others make increasingly ridiculous leaps of logic (which always turn out to be true) until they reach the inevitable conclusion:

It turns out the murderer is…JACK THE RIPPER! Who is actually an alien entity who FEEDS ON FEAR! Who upon discovery proceeds to shed his body and TAKE OVER THE SHIP’S COMPUTER!


"Either these are slides of my last prostate exam, or we're in trouble…"

It’s as silly as it sounds. It was particularly frustrating, in fact, because the mystery could have had a satisfying ending with the unexpected reveal that the nebbishy Hengist was actually the murderer. There was no need for the melodrama and lightshow and supernatural elements.

But this was a Robert Bloch script. I guess you get what you pay for.

The first half was four stars (it would have been five if it had had a satisfying resolution). The second half was two stars. Averaging it out, I give the episode as a whole three stars.

Something Blue


by Joe Reid

As a dedicated watcher of Star Trek, I look forward to the discovery of the aliens they encounter.  Not every episode showcases new alien life, but it happens often enough and it is fun enough to keep things fresh.  This week I found myself disappointed with the creature.  It came off as if Bloch attempted to follow the popular advice given to young brides when crafting this week’s creature.  There was something old, something new, something borrowed and something blue.  The “Wolf in the Fold” as the title of the episode alluded to, was a hodgepodge of disparate things that didn’t really work for me.
Starting with something old. The creature of the week was made out to be something ancient and evil.  How ancient, you might ask?  Around 80 years in the past from today (1967).  Granted that might seem old to a character in the far-flung future.  My patience was further strained by the addition of “Jack the Ripper” as the creature's identity.  To me, it came off as a cheap trick, including a recent historical boogie-man to be the antagonist.


"Jack the Ripper?!  Isn't that dumb?"

Something new and something borrowed took the form of the creature being composed of traits that were done better in other episodes of Star Trek.  In previous episodes, as recent as this season, we were introduced to “The Companion” in “Metamorphosis” and the smoke monster from last week’s “Obsession” with examples of non-physical aliens.  Even in last season’s “Charlie X”, we saw powerful aliens that didn’t have bodies.  Non-corporeal aliens were new and better represented in these other episodes.  Borrowing from them so near to the last use of the concept feels ill timed, and it reduced the impact for me.  Even the crew wasn’t surprised by the unfolding of the monster's nature when they figured it out.

All these parts together, the ancient killer with no body, unless it does have one, as it did at times so that it could eventually be killed, the invisible spirit-like apparition wandering through the cosmos with a penchant for killing attractive young women and framing hapless men, was not that interesting or entertaining once the creature was fully revealed near the end.  Granted, this episode had some redeeming elements: the mystery, the action, the colors, the costumes, the beautiful exotic ladies, and the crew of the Enterprise.  All would have been better served by anything other than reused concepts and popular English criminals.

This all brings me to my final thought on the episode.  Regarding something blue.  Rather than being something within the episode, the blue comes is the countenance of the audience.  Specifically, myself.  This episode made me blue at the end because I have come to expect better from this show.  I hope that the upcoming episode will see improvements and avoid use of borrowed concepts.

Two stars.


by Lorelei Marcus

The second sex in Star Trek

What do a brilliant, alluring dancer, a regal high priestess descendant, and a competent lieutenant, high in McCoy's medical team, have in common? They exist only to be murdered for their sex.

I was tantalized by a new alien culture that, like the Vulcans, 200 years ago achieved societal pacifism by rejecting emotions like hatred and jealousy. Yet unlike the Vulcans, they chose to keep positive emotions such as love. What an appealing concept for a love-starved culture like our own, that feeds on foreign war and internal inequality. There is something to learn from Argelius II and its successful methods for preventing all war and violence.


Make love, not war.

Except, these are not the virtues Captain Kirk, or McCoy, or Scotty draw from this planet. They only see that the women here are free to have sex with whom they choose, and enjoy it frequently. Of course that means Argelius II is a pleasure planet, obsessed with hedonism (because apparently free love isn't a concept in the Federation?) Even then, they miss who that pleasure is for. Argelius II is not Orion, with slave girls and servitude. In this society, women are not here for men's enjoyment. They have sexual equality to men, and can choose who and who not to sleep with, and anyone using violence or pressure to force sex is the highest taboo. If only the highest officers of the Enterprise (a ship with a crew evenly divided by sex) saw that.

Every time I heard Kirk talk about women I felt a growing distance from my own species. "The women here… I know a place where the women…" Women are not things, we are not objects, we are people. Generalizing us as "the women" strips away that humanity until all that remains is the imprinted fantasies of men. Seeing the heroes of one of my favorite shows on television speak this way was revolting. Even logical Spock was not immune, claiming "women are more prone to fear and horror," a completely baseless generalization.

But perhaps the most offensive fault of the episode was the women themselves. Never before have I seen so many interesting female characters introduced in quick succession, only to be discarded just as quickly. Narratively, this episode reinforces the dehumanization of women by using them as plot devices rather than characters. Structurally, inside the story and out, women are something else from men; women are not human.

These views do not fit with the universe of Star Trek. Even the promising concepts of Argelius II's society directly contradict such ideology. I suspect the personal opinions of the writer bear some of the responsibility for this disconnect.

Three stars, one for each woman who deserved more time on the screen.

A few of my favorite things


by Gideon Marcus

We've complained in previous episodes about how Kirk always knows the answers, and that his deductions are taken as the truth because he says so.  Sure, intuition is a captain's prerogative (as he asserts in "Obsession"), but sometimes, it seems more lazy writing than preternatural abilities.

That's why I really enjoyed (parts of) "Wolf in the Fold".  In particular, I like that in the future, lie detectors are infallible, and computers have vast data banks and ability to correlate seemingly unrelated facts.  Spock was able to simply ask the ship's computer, based on what had been discussed in the room, who the killer was and even the physical nature of said killer.


"Don't blame me.  I just report what the script tells me to."

What impressed me was how real it felt.  In some shows (e.g. Lost in Space or The Twilight Zone), the computer is an anthropomorphic being with emotions and human motivations.  It reasons like a person, not like a machine.  In other shows, a computer has as much independent capacity as a toaster–all it can do is strictly interpret the programs of its human tenders.

The Enterprise's computer strikes a middle path, drawing logical conclusions from existing data at the request of the crew.  Imagine one day being able to speak into your pocket computer, the FriendlyVac 2000, and ask something like, "What is the best way to get to Pismo Beach?" or "Which stock is outperforming its capitalization?" or "What color is the most popular for fashion this week?"

Science fiction's job isn't to predict the future, but Robert Bloch has created a convincing possible eventuality, and I dug it.

I also appreciated Scotty's performance this episode.  He was near tears in frustration and guilt at appropriate moments.  He also put on a great smile at the beginning.  Speaking of great smiles, how about that Sulu?

I was less enamored with the fourth act, in which the Enterprise is put in its weekly requisite degree of peril.  The show would have been a lot better as a futuristic version of Burke's Law, I think.

Also, while Shatner didn't hunch his shoulders or do the sideways saunter, his verbal tics were in full evidence this episode.  It is a shame, given how nuanced and strong his performances were last season, that he has elected to become a caricature of himself.  Memorable?  Yes.  But not in a good way.


Maybe no saunter, but plenty of punctuated swagger.

For these reasons and the ones articulated above, I give "Wolf in the Fold" two and a half stars.

Well, we're finally going to get to see this "Tribble" thing folks have been buzzing about for a few months.  Let's hope we have more fun than Kirk!

Join us tomorrow at 5:00 PM Pacific (8:00 Eastern) or at 8:00 PM Pacific (11:00 Eastern)!



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Science Fiction/Fantasy

[December 24, 1967] Hit Parade '67 (the year's best science fiction)

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by Gideon Marcus

Happy holidays everyone! This is my favorite time of the year–not because presents are exchanged or because the days are finally getting longer again, but because I get to present to you the very best science fiction published in the last twelve months. Even better, since I can't possibly consume it all myself, I get to read all the recommendations of my esteemed colleagues, the better to distill it down to a few sure picks.

Sure, there are other "must-read" lists. The Hugos. The Nebulas. But no other list is as comprehensive, so thoroughly vetted, so absolutely certain to be filled with excellent material than the Galactic Stars.

Thus, without further ado, here are the Galactic Stars for 1967! Results are in order of voting for the winners, alphabetical order by author for the honorable mentions.

——
Best Poetry
——

There seems to be less and less professionally published SF poetry every year. Luckily, the fanzines are picking up the slack–particularly the new Trekzines! These are the three poems that caught our eye:

The Territory of Rigel, by Spock (Dorothy Jones)

Where Are the Worlds of Yesteryear?, by L. Sprague de Camp

Matrix Goose , by Jack Sharkey

——
Best Vignettes (1-8 pages)
——

Moondust, the Smell of Hay, and Dialectical Materialism , by Thomas M. Disch

The short story of the first man on the moon.

Go, Go, Go, Said the Bird , by Sonya Dorman

After the Bomb, a mother goes for a run.

Carcinoma Angels, by Norman Spinrad

Sometimes the answer to beating cancer is inside yourself.

Answering Service, by Fritz Leiber

Keep an old dying woman company–it's the least you can do.
ㅤ

Honorable Mention:

Family Loyalty , by Stan Elliott

The Forest of Zil , by Kris Neville

Sisohpromatem , by Kit Reed

—

Two stories by Larry Niven and one by John Brunner made the long list but didn't get nominations.

——
Best Short Stories (9-19 pages)
——

I Have No Mouth, and I Must Scream, by Harlan Ellison

The last five humans…and the computer who hates them.

Aye, and Gomorrah… , by Samuel R. Delany

A look at the sex lives of the astronauts who, by their very nature, cannot have sex.

Driftglass, by Samuel R. Delany

The sad, dangerous life of a lonely merman in Brazil.

The Heat Death of the Universe, by P. A. Zoline

Entropy, and a housewife's descent into madness. Gripping and innovatively presented.

Black Corridor , by Fritz Leiber

A series of yes/noes determines your survival.
ㅤ

Honorable Mention

The Baron's Dog , by L. J. T. Biese

Problems of Creativeness, by Thomas M. Disch

The Food Farm, by Kit Reed

The Vine, by Kit Reed

Baby, You Were Great!, by Kate Wilhelm

An excellent line-up this year, and a sign that science fiction is becoming an equal opportunity employer. An additional 16 stories made the longlist, and nominating was a tough choice this year!

——
Best Novelettes (20-40 pages)
——

Gonna Roll the Bones, by Fritz Leiber

Modern folk tale in which a gambler faces off with death.

The Hall of the Dead , by L. Sprague de Camp and Robert E. Howard

The newest Conan story featuring a fast friendship and a sorcery-ravaged ruin.

The Singing Citadel, by Michael Moorcock

The latest fantasy adventure of Elric, dispatched to aid Queen Yishana against Balo the Jester, disgraced servant of Chaos.

The Adventuress, by Joanna Russ

Alyx is a most unusual swashbuckler, and a welcome addition to the prehistorical fantasy pantheon.
ㅤ

Honorable Mention

The Little Victims, by Hilary Bailey

Faith of Our Fathers , by Philip K. Dick

Fiddler's Green, by Richard McKenna

Home the Hard Way, by Richard McKenna

The Ethics of Madness, by Larry Niven

Handicap, by Larry Niven

Coranda, by Keith Roberts

The Narrow Land, by Jack Vance

This Mortal Mountain, by Roger Zelazny

Dawn, by Roger Zelazny

Two things of note: sword and sorcery appears to be on an upswing (no pun intended), and Richard McKenna may attain more success posthumously than while he was alive.

Only nine stories from the longlist didn't make the nominations, including a piece by the promising David Redd.

——
Best Novella (40+ pages)
——

Hawksbill Station, by Robert Silverberg

Half a billion years ago, a penal colony struggles for survival.

The Star-Pit, by Samuel R. Delany

A journey beyond the galaxy in Delany's inimitable sublime fashion,
ㅤ
Death and the Executioner, by Roger Zelazny

The future incarnation of the Buddha takes on the venal would-be Gods on a faraway planet.

Flatlander, by Larry Niven

In search of the most interesting planet in the galaxy…but may the explorer beware!

Honorable Mention

Report on Probability A, by Brian W. Aldiss

To Love Another, by James Blish and Norman L. Knight

Weyr Search, by Anne McCaffrey

The Adults, by Larry Niven

If All Men Were Brothers, Would You Let One Marry Your Sister?, by Theodore Sturgeon

—

Once again, we have a lot of novellas (and Niven's The Soft Weapon barely missed making it off the longlist). It's nice to see this length getting more love.

——
Best Novel/Serial
——

The Einstein Intersection , by Samuel R. Delany

Delany yet again clinches the top spot, although it was a much nearer thing this year. A tale of a far-future Earth, bereft of humans and lapsed (evolved) into mythology.
ㅤ
Camp Concentration, by Thomas M. Disch

Tom Disch is right behind Chip Delany with this four-part serial. The inmates of Camp Archimedes are given a deadly disease that boosts intelligence. Intellectual. Provactive. Weird.

The Jewels of Elsewhen , by Ted White

Across the lattice of parallel universes in search of the master of them all!

Honorable Mention

The Revolving Boy, by Gertrude Friedberg

Moon of Three Rings, by Andre Norton

Thorns, by Robert Silverberg

The Dolphins of Altair, by Margaret St. Clair

Why call them Back from Heaven, by Clifford Simak

The Winds of Gath, by E.C. Tubb

—

This year's crop is a nice mix of New Wave and more conventional (but no less modern) tales. Seven longlist novels didn't make the final cut. Again, hard decisions had to be made. Interestingly, a full third of the nominees (and the longlisters) were women. It used to be that women did well at the shorter lengths but petered out as the stories lengthened, but this trend appears to be reversing.

——
Best Science Fact
——

Applied Science Fiction, by Will F. Jenkins

Did you know that Jenkins (aka famed SF author Murray Leinster) invented front projection? It's true, and this amazing article tells all about it.
ㅤ
A New Look at Vision, by Dr. Christopher Evans

Honorable Mention

Knock Plastic!, by Isaac Asimov

Sleep, Dreams and Computers, by Dr. Christopher Evans

Language Mechanisms, by Christopher Finch

The Misers, by William T. Powers

—

Once again, Asimov doesn't take the top spot. He did get five of the 17 longlist entries, however. There was one lone woman on the longlist: Margaret L. Silbar for The Quark Story.

——
Best Magazine/Collection
——

New Worlds: 3.28 stars, 5 Star nominees (nine issues)

The Devil His Due: 3.23 stars, 1 Star nominee, (anthology)

F&SF: 2.98 stars, 9 Star nominees (12 issues)

Science Fantasy/Impulse: 2.97 stars, 0 Star nominees (only three issues before folding)

Orbit 2: 2.92 stars, 3 Star nominees, (anthology)

Fantastic: 2.92 stars, 1 Star nominee (six issues)

New Writings 10: 2.28 stars, 1 Star nominee, (anthology)

IF: 2.9 stars, 8 Star nominees (12 issues)

Analog: 2.89 stars, 4 Star nominees (12 issues)

Famous Science Fiction 2.84 stars, 0 Star nomineees (three issues)

Galaxy: 2.82 stars, 5 Star nominees (six 1.5x size issues)

Amazing: 2.50 stars, 1 Star nominee (six issues)

Worlds of Tomorrow: 2.48 stars, 1 Star nominee (only two issues before folding)

—

We lost two magazines this year: Worlds of Tomorrow and Science Fantasy. On the other hand, this seems to be the last year Fantastic and Amazing will be composed mostly of reprints as Harry Harrison took over this month. New Worlds and F&SF remain Journey favorites, which marks us as Commie Pinko New Wavists, I suppose.

——
Best Artist
——

John Schoenherr

Kelly Freas

Virgil Finlay

Honorable Mention

Frank Frazetta

Mel Hunter

Gray Morrow

——
Best Dramatic Presentation
——

Star Trek: "Mirror, Mirror"
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
Quatermass and the Pit

Captain Scarlet & The Mysterons: "The Mysterons"

The Prisoner: "Schizoid Man"

Star Trek: "Journey to Babel"

Honorable Mention

Out of the Unknown: "The Prophet"

Star Trek: "Amok Time"

Star Trek: "The Doomsday Machine"

Star Trek: "This Side of Paradise"

The Face of Another

La Jetée (American re-release)

The End of August at the Hotel Ozone (a Czech film)

No Dr. Who this year, which is a shame. I blame it on Jessica's TV, which is always on the fritz.

——
Best Comic Book
——

The Rise and Fall of the Trigan Empire, Look and Learn magazine

The Amazing Spider-Man, Marvel Comics

X-Men, Marvel Comics

Fantastic Four, Marvel Comics

Thor, Marvel Comics

"Legion of Super-Heroes" in Adventure Comics, National Comics

Flash, National Comics

Blue Beetle, Charlton Comics

Creepy and Eerie, Warren Publishing

Sword of the Sea Wolves (Karl the Viking)

The Angels, City Magazines/Century 21 Publishing Ltd.

——
Best Fanzine
——

Yandro
ㅤ
For a while, the genzine that the Coulsons built was starting to look like a trekzine. They've pulled it back some, of late.

Amra

Australian Science Fiction Review

The Crewman's Log (Trekzine)

Niekas

Riverside Quarterly

Science Fiction Times (news)

Tolkien Journal

Witzend (comic art)

Someone observed recently that it makes sense for Edgard Rice Burroughs and Robert E. Howard and L. Frank Baum to have dedicated societies with hundreds of members. But fer Chrissakes–Tolkien only wrote two books! (Okay, that's not strictly true, but you take the meaning).

The trekzines range from drekzines to charming. Spockanalia was a great effort–a prozine quality trekzine mentored by the Coulsons. But it's The Crewman's Log, with its charming stories, that won me over.

——
Best Author
——

Samuel R. Delany

Surprise, surprise…

Honorable Mention

Larry Niven

Fritz Leiber

The winner is the prince of the New Wave, while the runner ups include a scion of the new hard sf and a distinguished gentleman of the genre. A nice balance, I think!

I'd say 1967 was even better than 1966 in terms of content. Some months, we were hard pressed to keep up, what with all the books, the magazines, the anthologies, the shows, and the movies (this last, the one anemic medium for SF). But it was worth every minute! We hope you enjoy the fruits of our labor.

Happy new year!



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Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[December 20, 1967] Smut!  (January 1968 Fantasy and Science Fiction)

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by Gideon Marcus

It's a dirty business

Ever since Harlan Ellison started flapping his gums about how dangerous his new anthology Dangerous Visions is, it seems a seal has been broken.

First, Michael Moorcock started putting nudes on the covers of his newly taken-over New Worlds.  The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction started using the word "shit" liberally.  And this month, every other story features sex in varying degrees of luridity.

I'm not complaining, mind you.  These things have existed in books and in avante-garde publications like Playboy for years.  But it's always a bit startling to find the words you hear commonly on the street suddenly appearing in previously staid venues.  Sort of like how Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf shocked everyone.  As fellow traveller John Boston noted, with books and girlie mags, one knows what one is getting into.  But with media that enjoys wider distribution, which could be viewed or read by the the little old lady from Peoria as much as the hippie in San Francisco, editorial tends toward the conservative.

Does an influx of liberality mean the content is improved?  Let's read the latest issue of F&SF and find out!

The issue at hand


by Ed Emshwiller

They Are Not Robbed, by Richard McKenna

Richard McKenna died three years ago, but his rate of publication has, if anything, increased.  His latest story maintains the quality of work that made his loss so much mourned.

The setup: about 15 years from now, aliens arrive and solve our energy crisis.  They also set up cultural exchanges, but the the transactions have a seemingly sinister component.  Folks with a certain prerequisite are able to go inside, disappearing for a while before returning with a large check in hand.  Aldous Huxley is one of the more famous transactees, but their numbers grow and grow.

Over time, it is determined that each of the selected humans has a certain "tau factor" that has an unknown effect on their behavior and powers.  It is only known that the tau factor is measurable…and that it is gone once the humans come back.

Normal humans (those without the tau factor) become jealous, enforcing increasingly rigid restrictions on the tau-enabled humans, with ghettos a foreseeable future.  Meanwhile, exchange after exchange begins to disappear.

Amidst this backdrop, we are introduced to our hero, Christopher Lane.  Already half dropped out from society, he learns that he is blessed with the tau factor, and upon entering an exchange, learns that it enables him to step out of phase with time.  This gives him access to a fairyland world divided into little islands of time.  There he meets his true love and hatches a plan to sever his ties with the old Earth before the last exchange closes forever.

As for the sex content, much is made of pulchritude of Christopher's vapid and Earthbound girlfriend (we even learn the color of her pubic hair: black).  In this case, the focus on mechanical, unsatisfactory love-making is contrasted with the more elevated relations Chris enjoys out of time.

Only barely science fiction, it is nevertheless a good read.  Four stars.

The Turned-off Heads, by Fritz Leiber

The issue takes a bit of a tumble with the next short-short.  This exploration of pop culture and the evolving relation of mankind to machinekind is affectedly outré and rather pointless.  At least it's short, and I suppose Leiber gets points for forecasting fashion.

Two stars.


by Ed Emshwiller

I See a Man Sitting on a Chair, and the Chair Is Biting His Leg, by Harlan Ellison and Robert Sheckley

Here's a piece that reads like it could have been in Dangerous Visions.  I'm not sure how much was written by Ellison and how much by Sheckley, but it definitely reads like a fusion of their styles.

Our "star" is Joe Pareti, a man whose prime distinction from the rest of the Earth's teeming, over-educated billions is his ability to harvest "goo."  This gray, mucousy sludge has choked the planet's oceans and now provides humanity's main source of food.  It also has an alarming tendency to writhe, occasionally forming itself into grotesque parodies of animal life.

The goo also, on rare occasion, infects its harvesters.  In an act of carelessness, Pareti succumbs, losing all of his hair overnight.  His doctor warns that greater changes may be in store, but given that only six cases preceded Joe's, all of them wildly different in their courses, nothing more can be determined.

It doesn't take long for Joe to find out.  In short order, every woman finds him irresistible.  A life of increasingly exotic sexual escapades is frustrated when inanimate objects also start to make advances on the former goo farmer.  Will he succumb to their inorganic advances?  What happens if he says no?

This is a weird piece.  But, like most things by Ellison and Sheckley, it's a good piece.  Four stars.

Light On Cader, by Josephine Saxton

A young undertaker, bade by his mother's dying wish, climbs Cader Idris in Wales on a raw, misty morning.  At the summit, he encounters his life's desire…or maybe an unearthly trap.

That's it.  There's really not much to this story–except flavor and texture, which is competently done.

Three star.

Crack in the Shield, by Arthur Sellings

This UK author offers up a glimpse of life in the 22nd Century.  The development of the personal shield, and (for the less wealthy) shields for structures, causes society to fracture into a myriad of animal-totemed clans.  Each has laid claim to a province of the economy: Bees make food, Peacocks are in advertising, etc.  Assured immortality by falling in line within this strict societal structure, imagination largely disappears. 

The only hope for the race lies with those who voluntarily give up their shields.  Crack is the story of Philip Tawn, Peacock, who is driven to do just that.

I found this an implausibly optimistic piece, but Sellings writes it well enough.  It's also a bit more fuddy-duddy than the rest of the mag, but I suppose balance has its place.

Three stars.

The Seventh Metal, by Isaac Asimov

Last issue, I praised Doc A.'s article on the ancient discovery and use of the first seven metals (what a kitschy store in Borrego Springs, where I spent the weekend, described as "the seven mystic metals").  Left undiscussed in that piece was mercury, remarkable among the first seven for being the only one that is a liquid at usual temperatures.

Asimov does a fine job talking about element Hg (and why it has that abbreviation).  Four stars.

Lunatic Assignment, by Sonya Dorman

Sonya Dorman's tale is of "Four men, dressed in limp white shirts and slacks," each with his own madness.  Keepsy, a pervert who sleeps with his hand on his crotch, has a maelstrom of a mind, betrayed all the more by his frustrated desire to project normalcy.  Arrigott, having no sense of ego, has trouble with the word "I".  Fomer is a schizoid, an empty vessel.  And Braun, their leader, has barely suppressed desires to rape and ravage.

But the world is an asylum, and someone has to run it.

I can't say I quite understood this piece, but it is memorable.  Three stars.

In His Own Image, by Lloyd Biggle, Jr.


by Ed Emshwiller

Lastly, we have the tale of Gordon Effro, a spacewrecked sinner who ends up at a lifeboat station at the edge of space.  He washes up at a station inhabited by a mad proselytizer with a coterie of robotic disciples.  All Effro wants to do is drink himself blind until the rescue ship arrives, but the wild-eyed Christian has other plans.

I liked this story quite a lot up to its conclusion.  There are a number of ways this story could have ended.  Biggle chose perhaps the least satisfying, the most conventional.

Thus, three stars.

Can I open my eyes?

As it turns out, the stories with smut were my favorites.  However, I don't think their salacious content was what sold me; rather, they were just the most interesting of the pieces.  On the other hand, perhaps McKenna and Ellison/Sheckley were able to write so effectively because they felt less fettered when they produced these pieces.

I guess only time will tell if 1967 marked an experimental flirtation with sex in science fiction…or if it presaged an SFnal revolution!




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