Tag Archives: Playboy

[December 8, 1968] Hippies and Robots (July-December 1968 Playboy)


by Erica Frank

I have once again dipped into the magazine of "entertainment for men" who want to feel intellectually superior while they browse photos of mostly-naked women they like to imagine are sexually available to them.

October 1968 Playboy cover, featuring a woman in a short silver-white dress with long angel sleeves, holding a bunny mask near her face

There are some good stories. Some good political commentary. Some funny cartoons. And a whole lot of self-aggrandizing pontification, and a lot of wealthy white men insisting they know what's best for everyone, especially women.

The Fully Automated Love Life of Henry Keanridge by Stan Dryer (July)

Our protagonist, Henry Keanridge, has a wife, a mistress, and two girlfriends; he manages the scheduling for this complex arrangement of obligations and secret-keeping via a computer. That's our science fiction aspect. He works at a trucking company, and he has fed his own name into the system as a truck, and the four women as "stops" on his route, and it manages his schedule, reminds him of birthdays and holidays, and so on.

Hyman Roth artwork showing a giant woman covered by machines; a man is at a control panel
Hyman Roth's art led me to believe this story had more substance than it does.

Here's a quote: "Before their affair, Dee had been a girl of impeccable virtue. She would no more have thought of having a love affair than of, say, not wearing a hat to church." That tells you everything you need to know about both Dee and Henry.

As a story: Two stars, providing you can tolerate Henry's male chauvinist perspective on life.
As science fiction: One. I read it so you don't have to.

Masks by Damon Knight (July)
This one, unlike many of Playboy's stories, is unquestionably science fiction. Medical technology, full-body prosthesis, what happens to a human when you put his brain in a robot body? They can't get the robot to look fully human, can't give it a full range of facial expressions–that's okay, though; he can wear a mask.

But the project's funding is uncertain, so our protagonist–unnamed for the first half of the story–may have to justify his right to "two hundred million a year" in medical expenses, when normal full disability support is $30,000.

Two stars. Probably would've been three if it weren't for the sudden gratuitously violent twist.

Silverstein Among the Hippies by Shel Silverstein (July)
Shel Silverstein comments on the Hashbury community, mostly by drawing cartoons of hippies. They're clever and often insightful.

Newsstand guy argues with Shel, "I mean, why do these punks have to rebel and protest and try to change the whole damn world?"
Why indeed? Headlines include: Detroit Burning, Kill 720 Viet Cong, Sniper Kills Six, Self, New Fallout Danger Warned, Girl Raped, Alabama Riot, War in Sinai…

The Trouble with Machines by Ron Goulart (August)
Maximo is a machine, a robot designed to hunt and kill the reporter who keeps criticizing technology companies. Maximo is disguised as a refrigerator which will be delivered to the reporter's house. …Maximo has, or acquires, some interests of its own, and runs off before it reaches its assigned destination.

This one had a plot twist I didn't see coming (wow, the sexy lady is actually a person! She is part of the plot!) and a story resolution that, while not groundbreaking, doesn't leave confusing loose ends.

A solid three stars.

More Silverstein Among the Hippies by Shel Silverstein (August)
He's back! Or maybe he just hasn't managed to escape yet.

Shel faces a row of hippies holding signs with letters: L G L Z D R G S
"It was supposed to say 'LEGALIZE DRUGS'… but E is out trying to score, A and I are on an acid trip, the other E just got busted, and U was simply too strung out to show up!"

Playboy Interview: Stanley Kubrik (September)
This is not just an interview; it begins with a few pages of biography and background information showing how Kubrick got his start in film: "He quit his job at Look, raised $20,000–mostly from his father and his uncle–and began shooting 'Fear and Desire'… Though rejected by all major distributors, 'Fear and Desire' toured the art-house circuit and eventually broke even."

On the one hand: It's got some solid information about how his career led up to 2001. On the other: Four pages in all-italics is hard on the eyes. Next time, Playboy, consider using a scene divider of some sort and leaving the introduction more readable.

For the actual interview, Kubrick is very full of himself. 2001: A Space Odyssey showcases his VISION!!! It has a MESSAGE!!!… which he is not going to explain, of course, because he is an artist–would we better appreciate La Gioconda (that's "the Mona Lisa" to us plebes) if Leonardo had explained why she was smiling? (I wish that were a made-up example. It is not; he directly compared his film to the Mona Lisa.)

Some words and phrases he throws around in the interview: Cosmos, man's destiny, the lumpen literati (he's not fond of his critics), grandeur of space, chrysalis of matter, tendrils of their consciousness… he does like to talk about his grand ideas. Much of the interview is him saying "What if…?" and the interviewer politely feeding him the next question. He did manage to say a few things I agreed with, including, "Why should a vastly superior race bother to harm or destroy us?"

Two and a half stars. I am neither a film buff nor an arts buff, so much of this is tedious to me. If you like rich guys with an interest in science fiction showing off their education, there's 16 pages of it here.

Fortitude by Kurt Vonnegut, Jr.
This is a story in teleplay script format, beginning with a discussion between the esteemed Dr. Norbert Frankenstein and his guest, Dr. Little. Frankenstein's assistant, Tom Swift, occasionally comments with details. His patient, Sylvia Lovejoy, is now only a head attached to a machine–apparently a popular concept in Playboy these days; new writers should consider submitting stories with similar themes as it seems like they're buying.

Sylvia's every mood is controlled by complex machinery, except occasionally a small spark of her former self begs to be allowed to die. Dr. Frankenstein has foreseen this desire, and has programmed her robot arms to be unable to point a gun at herself or bring poison to her lips.

Four stars; the reader is left wondering if Sylvia has any possible route to escape, even after the circumstances of her vigil have changed.

Here Comes John Henry! by Ray Russell (September)
John Henry is the first man on the moon–or rather, the first man to land on the moon and come back. The first lunar landing mission is a Black man teamed up with a Russian as a show of international cooperation. The media have a field day making corny slogans about the duo, often playing on tacky racial slurs. John Henry is not bothered by tacky media coverage; he's just thrilled to be going to the moon.

The two guys have a lot in common, it turns out, starting with their names. The other fellow is Ivan "Vanya" Genrikhovich–"John, son of Henry" in Russian. Both are from Georgia, just from different parts of the globe. Both are from the capital city. Both are descendants of slaves. ("My father's father was a serf," Vanya says.) They are becoming great friends, bonding over their shared joy of space, taking pictures on the moon… until they notice that their fuel measurement is a bit low.

Not a lot low. Not low enough that the ship can't make it back. It just… can't carry both of them back. They quickly realize they have been set up: this mission has been calculated down to the last ounce, the last paperclip's worth of mass. Someone decided that only one of them should come home, and didn't bother to tell either of the pilots.

I won't spoil the solution they find, because it's worth reading; it's so much better than the one proposed in Godwin's "The Cold Equations." Five stars.

Mr. Swift and His Remarkable Thing by Jeremiah McMahon (October)
Two modern hippies, Mommababy and Daddybaby, have settled down to suburban life after the unplanned arrival of Frankenbaby five years ago. They try to be properly hip and permissive, but Mommababy does not like their neighbor, Mr. Smith, who is making some kind of sculpture-thing in his back yard. It's ugly, and Mr. Smith is always walking around muttering things like "Is the missing factor X?"

She doesn't want Frankenbaby playing in Mr. Smith's yard. Frankenbaby, however, has his freedom: after he's sent to his room, his parents spend the evening focusing on the "good things–flowers, beards, sideburns and beads." Mommababy considers checking on Frankie at bedtime, but Daddybaby warns her against being overprotective, so Frankie manages to slip out of the house. They discover him missing after the great explosive blasts from next door rock the house.

It turns out the weird sculpture was a rocket ship, and Mr. Smith and Frankenbaby have blasted off. It's unclear if they have a destination or are just going on a joyride.

Another solid three stars: This is an enjoyable read; it just doesn't really have a point—much like Mommababy and Daddybaby.

What's Your SQ (Sexual Quotient)? (October)
"A man's love life—whether he be single or married—is intimately related to his business career, to his social pastimes and even to the car he drives."

This is a 54-question personality quiz; each question has 3 options, with a key provided at the end for interpreting the results. It tells readers that, if none of the answers seems to apply, just pick the one that seems least unlikely.

It is, of course, expecting all participants to be heterosexual men of reasonable wealth in 1968 America. "You" own a car, have a job, have an active sex life with women (which will usually be called "girls"), and so on. These biases are visible throughout the quiz.

Moreover, it is assumed that you perceive sex as something you do for personal reasons only, not a shared activity of mutual pleasure.

Question 17 from the quiz, asking about the reader's concerns during sexual intercourse. The three options are: Performing as well as others, premature ejaculation, and maintaining an erection.
You are not, of course, concerned with whether your partner is enjoying herself.

The end result: Men's personalities can be sorted into three categories, although most men will have a blend of all three. Type A: "a Don Juan or a 'phallic narcissist'; a ladykiller." Type B: "his sense of security is strongly dependent upon being loved, cared for, and emotionally supported by others; he feels unworthy of this attention." Type C: "dedicated to fighting intemperance and immorality in all its forms; inflexible in both body and mind."

I can't figure out how to give this stars. I can say: If you're not a heterosexual man with the common mundane biases of current late-1960s America, the "analysis" after the quiz isn't going to be useful to you.

Colorless in Limestone Caverns by Allan Seager (November)
Our protagonist, Reinhart, is a dislikeable sort of fellow who tortures animals in the name of science and gets himself acclaim and tenure for it. He orders some blind cave fish on a whim, planning on researching their feeding habits, but instead, a change comes over him: From the first day he acquires them, he spends all day in the lab staring at them, and he becomes quiet and unresponsive at home. He feels a great kinship with the fish.

His wife worries. His mother worries. He thinks about fish. His wife and mother call in psychiatrists. He snaps out of his lethargic funk, speaks blithely of the research he's going to do, apologizes about worrying his family, and goes back to normal.

Two stars. I kept waiting for the story to start, and then it was over.

Scrutable Japanese Fare by Thomas Mario (November)
This article has nothing remotely science-fictional about it, and it is not related to the new-trending cultural shifts of which I am so fond. It's about dining in Japan, and since Gideon visits there occasionally, I thought I'd read it. It's one page of actual article followed by 10 recipes.

It mentions sukiyaki, shabu shabu–which it claims is a great food for dinner parties; host and guests share preparation activities–and tempura with random ingredients, "gleefully scattered over the tray in no fixed pattern." It talks about Japanese steakhouses that cook on a metal slab at the dining table, and describes how to prepare warm rice wine for best enjoyment.

It includes several recipes: Broccoli salad with golden dressing, cabbage salad with soy dressing, sesame dipping sauce, scallion dipping sauce, chicken yakitori, shrimp tempura, (which it insists should be eaten hot rather than prepared in advance; "One device for party service is to hire a domestic geisha who will fry and deliver it in large batches"), tempura batter & sauce, Japanese steak dinner and the shabu shabu the article begins by praising.

I found myself mildly disappointed by the lack of pictures of any of the food, and that the recipes aren't clear about how many servings they make–the "Japanese steak dinner" wants 4 lbs of steak, cut into ¾" cubes! That's not dinner for two or even for a family–that's the whole dinner party's meal. The recipes also don't list which cooking implements they need; that's folded into the narrative instructions.

Not rating for stars. It's a pleasant enough read, and the recipes are nice, although they lack a few details from being well-made.

Ad for Barbarella the movie
Coming soon to a theatre near you! Finally, you can see the actual scenes from the pictorial review earlier this year.

The Mind of the Machine by Arthur C. Clarke (December)
Clarke discusses whether computers can be said to truly think (…no, despite a few radical fanatics here and there), and what it might mean to society if they could, or they gain the ability in the future. He takes it as a foregone conclusion that they will:

…[T]he fact that today's computers are very obviously not "intellectually superior" has given a false sense of security—like that felt by the 1900 buggy-whip manufacturer every time he saw a broken-down automobile by the wayside."

He also has a very narrow view of how the future needs to play out:

The problem that has to be tackled within the next 50 years is to bring the entire human race, without exception, up to the level of semiliteracy of the average college graduate. This represents what may be called the minimum survival level; only if we reach it will we have a sporting chance of seeing the year 2200.

Although there's some obvious pandering to those who believe themselves the intellectual elite, he does cover a lot of the current trends in computer development, and a reasonable amount of speculation about possible future ones, albeit with, like the SQ test above, a lot of unmentioned biases.

Three stars; a nice review of the current state of scientific development and good suggestions about what might come next.

Wealth versus Money, by Alan Watts (December)

Alan Watts is neither a science fiction writer nor a scientist; he is a philosopher and zen buddhist guru. However, his article begins with an emphatic statement that the United States of America will cease to exist by the year 2000–which puts it firmly in the realm of fantastic speculation, as much as any of the stories I've reviewed.

He points out that a nation has two definitions: One, its geography, biology, and acknowledged physical boundaries; the other, its culture and sovereignty as recognized by its people and others. He points out that this second aspect of the USA is on the verge of destroying the first, and that much of this problem is caused by the conflation of money and wealth.

Money is assigned by the government. It is a deliberately limited resource. Wealth is a matter of valuable resources that has nothing to do with numbers written on slips of paper. Money is a measurement—purportedly of wealth, but as with any measurement, it can be applied in multiple ways.

"[T]rue wealth is the sum of energy, technical intelligence, and raw materials," he says. And he continues to point out that mankind is not separate from the world around us, but part of it—"like a whirlpool is to a river"—we cannot "conquer" or "invade" our own home, and our best chance of survival in the future is to recognize the value of leisure and enjoy the wealth that surrounds us.

Four stars (although I am likely biased in this rating); I have a great fondness for anything that can make Playboy—an overtly libertarian, capitalistic publication—recognize other approaches to life.






[June 18, 1968] I Just Read It for the Stories (February-June 1968 Playboy)


by Erica Frank

Introduction

After looking over Playboy in January and finding Vonnegut's gem of a story, I decided to check out the next few issues. This time I skipped all the political commentary (which is mostly "money is good and women should wear fewer clothes") and focused on the stories and articles potentially of interest to science fiction fans.

March 1968 Playboy cover - a naked woman with a bunny painted on her back looks over her shoulder
Cover of March 1968's Playboy. I found this the least-boring cover of the set – the only one that looks like she's having fun.

I read everything that looked remotely like it might be a science fiction story, even though some of them were a stretch. I also looked at the science-related articles. There are quite a few of them, since this covers a five-month period.

A Day in the Life of…, by Ralph Schoenstein (February)
The full title of this story is "A Day in the Life of President George Romney—Or Robert Kennedy, Richard Nixon, Ronald Reagan, Martin Luther King, Charles Percy, Hubert Humphrey, Nelson Rockefeller, Lurleen and George Wallace." It's a satire inspired by Jim Bishop's A Day in the Life of President Johnson, speculating about the biographies of other potential presidents. I had hoped this involved some kind of parallel universe setting, or time travel… but no. This is just mild political commentary, a few paragraphs of satirical character study on each.

Romney awakens at 5 a.m. and scowls at his wife for addressing him by his first name. Kennedy leaps from his bed and cartwheels into the bathroom. Nixon polls his public to find out if he should get out of bed in the morning. Reagan is refraining from sex for the duration of his presidency to avoid the risk of marks. King never smiles and never argues. Humphrey worships LBJ and calls him "Big Daddy."

As satire: 3 stars. As science fiction: 1 star–there's some vague hint of multiple universes, but that's all.

Hat Trick, by Robert Coover (February)
Certainly interesting. A magician performs a hat trick – pulling bunnies, doves, another hat, and eventually, a whole assistant out of his hat. And then the story turns dark. This had some surprising twists and a disturbing ending.

4 stars; this one will stick with me.

The Chronicle of the 656th, by George Byram (March)
The set-up: a former student brings his professor a locked box, found buried under a house he'd purchased. The box contains Civil-War-era documents and objects – and a notebook dated 1944. After establishing that this was not a hoax, he'd read through the notebook: an entire army combat team had vanished from their WWII training area and found themselves in 1864. They help win a major Civil War battle, although several of the team members are conflicted – their families and ancestors are from the South.

The writing is good, but the story is not. Everyone dies, so there's no time paradox to address. It reads like normal fiction, not like a series of diary entries. I guessed the big secret as soon as they established what happened. (Secret atomic bomb testing sent them back in time! How shocking!) This must be what the mundanes think science fiction is supposed to be.

2 stars. Unless you enjoy war stories, in which case, it may be 3.

The Origin of Everything, by Italo Calvino (March)
This "story" is two vignettes that take place at the beginning of the universe – one before the Big Bang (or, mostly before), and one a bit after. They are both whimsical explorations of the idea of "people" in places where people obviously cannot exist.


The art by George Suyeoka nicely captures the feel of the story.

There's a surreal conjunction the everyday and the cosmic: Mrs. Ph(i)Nko taking Mr. De XuaeauX to bed, but since they are all in a single point before the expansion of the universe,

…"it isn't a question of going to bed, but of being there, because anybody in the point is also in the bed. Consequently, it was inevitable that she should be in bed also with each of us.

After the creation of the universe, all of the residents of the point hope to find Mrs. Ph(i)Nko again, but alas, she cannot be found; only the memory of her love for them all survives.

In the second vignette, astral children play marbles with hydrogen atoms; one child has stolen all the new atoms, and one of his companions then tricks him with fake atoms made of junk.

4 stars; this was delightful.

The Bizarre Beauties of "Barbarella" (March)
This is a pictorial review of the movie that's coming out later this year, based on the French comic, "The erotic space adventures of Barbarella." I'm not familiar with the comic, but I gather it has

  • Beautiful women
  • Wearing very few clothes
  • Having sex
  • In space


The Black Queen enjoys a dream interlude with the angel Pygar, whom she's forced to obey her will.

Fashion of the future on the planet Lythion

Barbarella rescues Pygar, and then Pygar rescues Barbarella.

I'm not rating this, but I am looking forward to the movie when it comes out.

Bucking the scientific Establishment, by Theodore J. Gordon (April)
This is a nonfiction article about innovative scientists who were initially faced with derision and insults, and were later proved to be correct. …Or rather: this is an article about innovative historical scientists, and a handful of current scientists whose theories are still considered more in the category of "crackpot" than "fact," which the author would like you to believe are very plausible, as shown by the fact that several other scientists used to be considered crackpots but are now lauded as groundbreakers in their fields.

Author seems to have skipped over the thousands of so-called scientists who were widely believed to be crackpots and later were still believed to be crackpots.

2 stars. Reasonably entertaining writing; good facts; bad science.

Papa's Planet, by William F. Nolan (April)
This is short and I wish it were forgettable. Fortunately, it's incoherent enough that most of the details will fade with time. Philip, our protagonist, is Cecile's fourth husband; her father recently died and left him the deed to a planet. The story is obviously not meant to be taken seriously ("Five million miles out from Mars, we turned sharp left and there it was: Papa's Planet"), and while it's obviously science fiction–the planet is inhabited by nothing but Hemmingway clones–there's not really any actual story here. (Is this what the mundanes think science fiction is?)

2 stars. It's not anything like good but it's not overtly bad enough for me to rank it at 1 star.

The Annex, by John D. MacDonald (May)
I had hopes for this one. It started out interesting: a nurse tending an unconscious patient, discovering he's dislodged his IV needle. Then it shifts perspective entirely: Mr. Dave Davis visits a huge, strange building, in the process of being torn down while its residents refuse to leave. There are hints that he's on some kind of assignment from an agency; he tries not to reveal exactly why he's visiting or how he got access. His guide, Mrs. Dorn, refuses to let him find his own way, insisting he'd just get lost. (It is clear that yes, he would quickly get lost.) When they reach his destination–

The story loses focus. It gets a bit surreal; while I generally enjoy surreal–see my notes about the Calvino story above–this lacks the whimsy or allure that would allow it to be more than somewhat nonsensical. Then the story shifts back to the nursing ward, where Silvia Dorn is a nurse, her beloved Dave is being kept alive by machines, and the reader is obviously meant to draw meaning from these details in a way that eluded me.

3 stars, I suppose–I can tell there's a decent story here even if it seems to want a set of assumptions I don't share.

Henne Fire, by Isaac Bashevis Singer (May)
This is told folktale-style, a story of Jewish fantasy (of a sort) rather than classic science fiction. Henne Fire is a terrible woman–she has been so awful, all her life, that she basically became a demon. Or perhaps she was born as one. She was nasty to everybody. Eventually, she became prone to random attacks of hellfire–her clothing would catch fire, or little flames would start around her. She could not even move into the poorhouse; nobody wanted a boarder who would catch houses on fire. She pleaded with the rabbi to help her, and eventually, the town made her a small brick house–basically a shack made of stone, with a tin roof.

Illustration by Bernard McDonald

The neighbors might've just shunned her after that, but one of her daughters married a rich American and started sending her money. Suddenly everyone wanted to befriend her. (This did not make her a nicer person.) One day people noticed that Henne hadn't been around for a few days, and they found her remains at home–a burnt skeleton, sitting in a chair with no mark of fire on it.

3 stars; entertaining enough.

The Dead Astronaut, by J. G. Ballard (May)
After the space age is decades past–shut down after a bloody history of orbital accidents–a married couple awaits the crash landing of their friend who died 20 years ago, so they can gather his remains.

Charle Schorre's illustration is eye-catching and does not actually capture the tone of this semi-post-apocalyptic story.

I enjoyed this story, although it is not a happy tale and it does not end well for anyone. I especially enjoyed: Mrs. Groves had been (was still?) in love with the astronaut, and her husband does not seem to have been jealous–mostly amused, and a bit concerned for her. I did not enjoy: The revelation of the ominous secret (a bit too predictable), and the final moments where the husband says, "I never asked you–" and then looks at her, and realizes he has his answer.

What that answer was, what the question was, I do not know. This was obviously written for men of a certain class, of a certain culture, who would understand the unspoken words. I can recognize the poignancy of the ending but I don't know what actually happened.

3 stars. If I'd been part of the intended audience, it probably would be 4.

The Snooping Machine, by Alan Westin (May)
Another nonfiction piece, positing a cashless, computer-data-driven society by 1975. It mentions that computer tape is so efficient a storage medium that one could hold 2000 pages of data for each of America's two hundred million citizens in a single room, on as few as a hundred reels of tape.

It discusses some history of government data-gathering, which includes both "big brother" hysteria and a pressing need for accurate data on which to base decisions. (Which regions need better school funding? Which areas might need new roads?) Government officials have admitted it may be impossible to separate personal identity details from the data they need, and that sorting out the conflicting interests in privacy and data is an ongoing problem.

3 stars. A nice overview of data technology and both the problems and possibilities it brings, but a bit pedantic in approach.

The Man from Not-Yet, by John Sladek (June)
Epistolary fiction, told through letters. Two friends in 1772 discuss an incident some ten years past, in which they had a visitor who claimed to be from the future. He was questioned by Samuel Johnson, who asked disparaging questions–"You will want to tell me no doubt of carriages that operate without benefit of horses. Of engines that carry men through the air like birds. Of ships without sails."

The visitor is astounded that he has guessed the future so correctly, but Johnson just scoffs, until the man offers to bring him to the future. They visit his time machine; the two enter the device; after a few moments of silence, it glows and explodes, leaving Dr. Johnson in the wreckage but the traveler gone.

The remaining few letters let the readers know what happened, while the men themselves remain unaware.

3 stars. I have little interest in this kind of historical fiction, and there is almost no point to the story: too much exposition with a "gotcha" twist at the end.

Ghost, by Hoke Norris (June)
The protagonist of this story is a somewhat conservative, ambitious man who has a "ghost" that speaks to him constantly, urging wild and rebellious acts. The ghost was the previous inhabitant of his body, and he cannot get rid of it even though he is now in control. He is also dating the boss's wife's sister (instead of the girl he loves). He wants the money and status that comes with the high-class connections but he also wants the comfort and joy he finds with Marie; he is caught between these two issues (with the ghost constantly berating him for his ambition) until Marie turns up pregnant.

They have a fight, he goes for a walk, and everything changes.

4 stars–this one will (heh) haunt me.

Conclusion

Playboy is about on par with most science fiction magazines for quality, and better than some… if you can accept that it has only one to three pieces per issue that are relevant to science fiction fans. Although the stories are okay, with some much better than that, many of the best-written stories have dark themes or unhappy endings or both. It seems the average Playboy reader is not expected to be interested in stories of otherworldly exploration or how technology might solve our problems, but how people with psychic powers or spaceships are just as likely to be miserable as the average person today. It's heavy on pedantic verbosity and all rather depressing.

If you also like the libertarian politics, there is more entertainment per issue, and of course, if your interests include pictures of young women with their shirts off, it has quite a bit to offer.






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[January 6, 1968] Entertainment for Men (January 1968 Playboy)


by Erica Frank

An unexpected place for science fiction

When I saw January's issue of Playboy, my first thought was, of course, "Ugh, mostly-naked women being exploited", including a Gidget-lookalike, wearing a lot fewer clothes than Gidget normally does.

Cover of January 1968 Playboy

And then I saw some of the contributors: Kurt Vonnegut (author of Cat's Cradle), Shel Silverstein (author of both the heart-twisting The Giving Tree and very clever Uncle Shelby's ABZ Book), Arthur C. Clarke, Ogden Nash (whose poetry I love), Ray Bradbury

And I thought, well, it's pricey—more than double the price of most science fiction magazines—no doubt because of the, ahem, artistic photography. But I could get it just for the articles. (That's the joke, anyway.)

The shopkeeper at the store where I saw it refused to sell it to me. I was confused, but they were adamant. But I persevered, and found a less-discriminatory site that didn't care who acquired their wares.

My first thought was: There's certainly a lot of magazine for my buck-twenty-five! This anniversary edition has over 250 pages, and while a lot of that is advertisements, they don't skimp on the actual text.

Two science fiction stories, two articles by science fiction authors, some poetry, some futuristic art… and an article about religion and hippies.  That's well within my interests.

The Yellow Room, by John Cheever
Cheever is mostly published in The New Yorker, with some stories in Playboy, Esquire, and The Saturday Evening Post. He is not known for his science fiction, and if this story is typical, I can understand why.

Our protagonist is a rich fellow afflicted with the cafard, either a form of depression or just the ennui of someone wealthy enough to pay a psychiatrist a dollar a minute for therapy. (Mister, just skip half a dozen sessions and buy yourself a motorcycle, okay?) The doctor declares him sexually repressed—a "transvestite homosexual," caused by sculptures of his body-building father being used prominently at several hotels and opera houses. Our narrator denounces the guy as a charlatan and stops attending sessions.

After that, he starts gallivanting around the globe in search of the perfect room, one with yellow walls, which he is certain will end his cafard. I suspect half the purpose of the story is to give the reader the fantasy of jaunting from hotel to hotel without worrying about price, attending a job, or having family obligations. Eventually, he finds such a room, but it is owned by someone who won't sell her house. So, noticing that she is a heavy drinker, he plies her with expensive alcohol until she winds up in a car accident—and buys the house after her death.

It does, in fact, cure him, or at least, he feels energetic and happy in the room with yellow walls.

So where's the science fiction? His mother, a dilettante traveler, writes letters informing him that when she stays at hotels, she has dreams of the previous tenants of the beds. This is done in great detail over several pages, but does not seem to connect to the plot, if you can call it a plot.

The writing itself is good enough, if one enjoys overly intellectual rich man's pontification as a writing style. The story, however, begins nowhere, goes nowhere, and is packed with nothing but descriptions of a jet-set lifestyle and the protagonist's ego. Two stars.

God and the Hippies, by Harvey Cox
This article compares modern hippies to St. Francis of Assisi, and notes that modern "welfare society" allows a level of leisure that has turned to ecstatic exploration, meditation, and a strong interest in Oriental spirituality. Modern Protestant Christianity, he points out, is "squarer than American culture," and focused on dominion over nature instead of harmony with it.

The choice is no longer Christian, Jew, or atheist. Christianity will also have to recognize that in a postindustrial, leisure society, people will have more time for meditation and
for cultivating the kinds of religious practices that have been so highly developed in some Oriental countries—and so underdeveloped in the West.

Wanda declares she has found true love with "Grok the Guru."
A scene from the "Little Annie Fanny" comic strip at the end of the issue.

He then talks about three aspects of hippie culture that seem to clash most with Christianity: Drugs, aversion to work, and open sexuality. He points out that current drug laws are discriminatory in both focus and enforcement: that there is no rational reason for alcohol to be legal but marijuana a felony, and that the marginalized are penalized more heavily than the wealthy for infractions. He says the Calvinist work ethic may not make sense in a computer civilization—that we will soon all have more leisure time, and that hippies are not wasting it on "TV and bowling leagues," but taking to poetry, art, and philosophy. He even mentions that space travel will likely take many years, and require travelers who know how to stay alert and interested in life with no entertainments but each other. And, given that this article is in Playboy, of course it is in favor of erotic pleasure.

The article is a little starry-eyed about hippies (they are not all as idealistic and passionate as he seems to think) but does a nice job of showing the conflicts between hippies and much of modern society, especially how hippie ideals often clash with Christian morality. Four stars.

Welcome to the Monkey House, by Kurt Vonnegut Jr.

Welcome to the Monkey House is a delightful change from the previous story. Our setting is future-Earth; population 17 billion humans. They are required to take "ethical birth-control pills," which remove all the pleasure from sex without actually preventing it, three times a day, or face a penalty of $10,000 and 10 years in jail. Not many people will risk the cost of a cheap house to skip their mandated medications, but "notorious nothinghead Billy the Poet" has been spotted heading for the local Suicide Parlor, where he no doubt intends to seduce someone.

The workers at the parlors are referred to as "pretty, tough-minded, highly intelligent girls":

All Hostesses were virgins. They also had to hold advanced degrees in psychology and nursing. They also had to be plump and rosy, and at least six feet tall.

America had changed in many ways, but it had yet to adopt the metric system.

This story contains forced drug use, kidnapping, forced withdrawal, rape, and various other crimes, all in a very implausible future. It addresses themes of moral vs practical science—specifically, sexual abstinence vs contraception—written in a style that seems packed with science fiction clichés until it turns darkly philosophical.

While I was rolling my eyes at some of the "facts" of the future world, I couldn't stop reading. Five stars.

Death Warmed Over, by Ray Bradbury
Bradbury is a fan of the old classic horror movies: Frankenstein, Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, Bela Lugosi's Dracula, The Body Snatcher, and other "monster movies." He does not care for the newer, more intellectual films: Our Man Flint, Charade, Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? He intensely dislikes horror-comedies like I Was a Teenage Werewolf. The point of horror, he says, is to take the universal fear of death, give it a face, a shape, a name… and conquer it.

I may not fully agree with his conclusion, but he argues his points eloquently. Four stars.

When Earthmen and Alien Meet, by Arthur C. Clarke
Clarke ponders how we might find evidence of extraterrestrials and what proof of their existence would do for humanity. In most cases, he points out: Nothing. Finding the ruins of an alien civilization on the moon might spark more space exploration, but after a few interesting photos make the news rounds, most people would shrug. The moon is a long ways off, and other stars even farther, and what is or isn't out there isn't relevant to their lives.

Most of this article is pondering methods of contact or verification, like finding ruins, receiving the equivalent of television broadcasts, or actual direct communication—although he points out this is not likely anytime soon. He goes on to quote a number of science fiction stories that deal with various possibilities, throws in a number of science facts that the general public may not be aware of but science fiction readers often are (e.g. how long a rocket would take to travel the four light-years to Alpha Centauri: 25,000 years), and declares the importance that we learn "to change, or at least to control, the atavistic urges programed into our genes," so we can take our rightful place among the stars.

Image of a strangely colored man viewed through a round window
"Could an alien tell the difference between a man and, for example, a bear—or would he conclude that the automobile was our dominant life form?"

If these were new ideas to me, the article might be intriguing and pleasant, instead of heavy and pedantic. Two stars.

City of the Future, by R. Buckminster Fuller
Last October, Fuller gave a speech in which he referred to "Spaceship Earth," building on Adlai Stevenson's 1965 description of our planet as a spaceship, one with limited resources that we must preserve. Fuller is widely considered an architectural visionary, and in this article, he talks about some possible structures for futuristic cities based on pyramids.

The city plan consists of "three triangular walls of 5000 living units apiece" forming a tetrahedron; each unit has a spacious terrace and a sky view. The interior receives sunlight through openings every 50th floor.

A picture of a tetrahedron-pyramid superimposed on a photo of Tokyo
Artist's rendition of the 200-story city set outside Tokyo, with a view of Mount Fuji.

It's a lovely idea. The article itself talks about the history of housing construction, vehicle constraints of the past, and assumes we will soon have the ability to make giant floating pyramid cities. While he dismisses several potential drawbacks with a wave of the hand, claiming that that this is both technologically and politically viable, it's interesting reading. Three stars.

This & That
Ogden Nash's poetry turns out to be a page of somewhat-racy limericks with artwork by Ron Rae.

A teenage protester named Lil
Cried, "Those CIA spies make me ill!
First they bugged our martinis,
Our bras and bikinis,
And now they are bugging the pill."

Cartoon drawing of a topless woman with a tiny CIA agent in her underwear.

They're all about that level of clever – a nice chuckle, nothing memorable.

The article, "The New Girl," by John Clellon Holmes is all about "postfeminism," how "girls" (not women, even when he's talking about adults) these days are free to explore their true selves. The New Girl, he says, is "self-emancipated, unabashedly sexy, charmingly individualistic and a joy to the men in her life."

I love the artwork. I hate the article. Didn't finish reading it; I don't need to hear a man going on about how feminism was about "attacking men's privilege" more than women's rights (and it's over), and women's self-exploration properly leads them to being sexy girlfriends.

Psychedelic picture of a 'New Girl' in a miniskirt with a rainbow-ish sunrise behind her

Silverstein's article is a series of cartoons and a few photos about him visiting Hollywood. They're fun.

Shel interviews a high school student, who says "Oh sure, I can tell you about the sex clubs and the pot smoking and the LSD trips, but if you want to know about the free-speech movement and the student political demonstrations, you'll have to ask one of the older kids!"

And of course, what would a review of Playboy be without a mention of scantily-clad beautiful women? Miss January is a 20-year-old blonde who recently moved back to her home town of Detroit. She looks very alluring in a black sheer negligee in the centerfold, but they're quick to point out that she's really a fun-loving gal. Her housewarming gifts included the new party game, Twister.

Photo of Miss January in a negligee next to a photo of her and friends playing Twister

Humor?

Playboy is known for its jokes. Or at least, in some crowds, it's known for its jokes. The magazine is riddled with cartoons, both full-page color and quarter-page sketch art adorning the articles and stories, and it has a monthly page, "Playboy's Party Jokes," with a couple-dozen supposedly humorous anecdotes.

After the third one where the punchline seemed to be "and they HAD SEX!!!", I started counting:
Punchline is adultery: 5
Punchline is "women are sexual property": 5
Punchline is rape: 6
Punchline is nudity: 4
Punchline is kinky sex: 3
Punchline is "women want money for sex": 4
Punchline is sex: 14
Not sexual jokes: 22 (some of these are Santa/holiday themed)

Cartoon drawing of a man entering a holiday party room; he's carrying a bundle of plants and says 'Hey everyone! Mistletoe!' Most of the partygoers are already tangled in deep kisses.
This is one where the punchline seems to be "people have sex."

The whole magazine is very much For Men, even on theoretically neutral articles. The Playboy Adviser is Playboy's equivalent to Dear Abby, mostly about relationships. Playboy's advisor, however, is nameless. It's moderately decent advice with a politely sexist bias. All the questions are from men; they universally refer to the women in their lives as "girls." 

As much as I enjoyed the Vonnegut story and was intrigued by Cox's article on hippies, I don't think I'll be buying the next issue.