Category Archives: Science Fiction/Fantasy

Book, Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy, Serial

[January 14, 1968] As Is (February 1968 Amazing)

5 Comments


by John Boston

The February 1968 Amazing, the second under Harry Harrison’s editorship, displays two themes on its face, both noted last issue.  The first is puffery: this issue says WORLD’S LEADING SCIENCE-FICTION MAGAZINE at the top of the cover, which also boasts “Katherine MacLean’s outstanding new novelet,” and the table of contents lists this “New Outstanding Novelet,” a “Classic Novelet,” and a “Special Novelet.” The second theme is protesting-too-much discomfort with the mostly-reprint fiction policy, evidenced by the prominent display of “New” on the cover: MacLean’s “Outstanding New Novelet,” “New Features,” “New Article,” “New Frank Herbert Novel.”


by Johnny Bruck

But there’s a third, more substantive theme: commendable initiative in the small amount of space left open by the reprint policy.  The “New Features” listed on the contents page include the first of a promised series of articles on the “Science of Man,” by Leon E. Stover, an anthropologist now at the Illinois Institute of Technology.  The book review column features a long and interesting essay-review by Fritz Leiber of a translation of a book by French author Claude Seignoll, with comments about the state of Gothic fiction generally.  (See below concerning both of these.) There is also the London Letter, said to be the first of a series to include a Milan Letter, a Munich Letter, etc.  This one is by Harrison’s pal Brian Aldiss, and it amounts to an extemporaneous stand-up routine which probably took Aldiss 20 minutes to write.  Parts of it are amusing.

These items are all touted by Harrison in his editorial, but they are not his main matter; the editorial is titled Amazing and the New Wave, and its first half amounts to a disappointingly smarmy exercise in having it both ways:

“There is no New Wave in science fiction.  Or, to put it another way, Amazing is the New Wave. . . .  Science fiction is the new wave that washed into existence in 1926 with the first issue of the magazine. . . .

“To me there are only two kinds of science fiction: the good and the bad. . . .  It is exactly what it says it is, and it is what I happen to be pointing to when I say the magic words ‘science fiction.’ And that is all the definition you are going to get out of me.

“The present New Wave is therefore two things: it is bad SF and it is good SF.  When bad it should be consigned to the nether cellars of our building with the rest of the cobwebbed debris of the years.  When it is good there are plenty of rooms it can slip into and feel comfortable.”

So Harrison spends a page on a subject of current controversy while ostentatiously saying nothing of substance about it.  This banal babble from an otherwise obviously intelligent editor is presumably his way of trying to ingratiate himself and the magazine with everyone while offending no one—a bad idea that will fool nobody and which one hopes is not repeated.

Meanwhile, the actual fiction content of the magazine, except for the above-average serial, is more or less what it has been since the departure of Cele Lalli and the advent of Sol Cohen.

Santaroga Barrier (Part 3 of 3), by Frank Herbert

Frank Herbert’s serial Santaroga Barrier, begun under the previous editor, concludes in this issue, and exits honorably.  To begin, the protagonist Gilbert Dasein, who teaches psychology at Berkeley, is driving to the isolated and reclusive California town Santaroga, hired by an investment company wanting to know why their chain stores were forced out of town.  In Santaroga, there is no reported juvenile delinquency or mental illness.  Cigarettes are purchased only by transients.  Nobody moves away; servicemen always return there upon discharge; and outsiders find no houses for rent or sale.  Jenny, Dasein’s not-so-old flame, moved back to Santaroga when she finished at Berkeley, telling him she couldn’t live anywhere else.  (The profs fooling around with the students?  Shocking!) There’s a dominant local industry, the Jaspers Cheese Cooperative, but it doesn’t produce for the outside market—the stuff “doesn’t travel.” Also, Dasein is the third investigator sent to Santaroga, the two predecessors having sustained accidental deaths.


by Gray Morrow

These cards dealt, Dasein arrives at the town’s sole inn, where he tries to call his handler in Berkeley, but the line goes out, and stays out afterwards.  He is then overcome in his room by a leak from an old gas jet, and rescued just in time.  Jenny, alerted to his presence, and seemingly very happy about it, shows up with breakfast.  It turns out she never received the letters he sent her after her return.

Dasein quickly learns that everyone seems to know who he is.  He encounters new manifestations of the town’s insularity.  Nobody has TV, except for a hidden room full of people whose job it is to monitor it.  There’s a local newspaper, but it’s subscription only, and its concept of reporting the news is unusual: “Those nuts are still killing each other in Southeast Asia.” All commerce appears to be local.  Dasein also learns that Jaspers is not just a brand name, but a substance, one which is near-omnipresent in food and drink.  And he notices a “vitality and a happy freedom” in the movements of people on the streets.

Meanwhile, the Jaspers (which is referred to later as “consciousness fuel”) is having an effect on him (“he had never felt more vital himself”), which he doesn’t entirely grasp.  He’s getting a little deranged, though hardly without cause, since he also keeps having near-fatal accidents—tripping over a carpet and being narrowly saved from a three-floor fall; a kid absent-mindedly loosing an arrow that barely misses him; a garage car lift collapsing; a waitress unknowingly poisoning his coffee; and more.  As for his derangement, shortly after the carpet incident, still suffering from a sprained shoulder, he takes a dangerous nighttime climb down into the Jaspers factory, clambering down and through its ventilation shafts despite his injury. Eventually he is questioning his own sanity.

It becomes apparent that consumption of Jaspers has created some sort of shared consciousness among the Santarogans, though Herbert remains vague about exactly how it works.  The people responsible for his “accidents” (poisoning his food, shooting an arrow at him) seem not to have consciously intended harm, but to have unknowingly acted out the hostility and fear of the Jaspers collectivity.  (Monsters from the id!) Jenny hysterically acknowledges that phenomenon: “Stay away from me! I love you!  Stay away!”

Dasein also begins to see some less attractive features of the Jaspers-permeated community.  On his first visit to the Jaspers factory, he finds that Jenny—trained as a clinical psychologist—works on the inspection line. Leaving, he sees through a door left open a line of people with their legs in stocks doing menial work, “oddly dull-eyed, slow in their actions.” He later learns these are the people who flunked the Jaspers initiation—about one in 500.  After wondering where all the children are, he finds them working in the greenhouses, marching and chanting.  Dr. Piaget, the designated spokesperson for the Santaroga way, says: “We must push back at the surface of childhood. . . .  It’s a brutal, animate thing.  But there’s food growing. . . .  There’s educating.  There’s useful energy.  Waste not; want not.”

At this point, Herbert’s thriller has become a philosophical novel, or at least a novel about philosophies.  Dr. Piaget elaborates on Santaroga’s child rearing practices, which reflect Santaroga’s departure from the usual human understandings about everything: “We take off the binding element.  Couple that with the brutality of childhood?  No!  We would have violence, chaos. . . .  We must superimpose a limiting order on the innate patterns of our nervous systems.” Hence, child labor; got to get 'em disciplined early."

Dr. Piaget continues: “We know the civilization culture-society outside is dying.  They do die, you know.  When this is about to happen, pieces break off from the parent body.  Pieces cut themselves free, Dasein.” And Dasein acknowledges the obvious: “Dasein knew then why he’d been sent here.  No mere market report had prompted this. . . .  He was here to break this up, smash it.” Piaget again: “Contending is too soft a word, Dasein.  There is a power struggle going on over control of the human consciousness.  We are a cell of health surrounded by plague. . . .  This isn’t a struggle over a market area. . . .  This is a struggle over what’s to be judged valuable in our universe.”

There is more denunciation of “outside” (another character says, with elaboration, “it’s all TV out there”), and much ambivalence on Dasein’s part about both outside and Santaroga, resolved in a final confrontation when the man who sent him to Santaroga comes looking for him.

This is a pretty solid SF novel, much better than Herbert's previous serial The Heaven Makers, with an interesting if somewhat vague idea capably revealed through a plot dense with incident, though there are minor points where things don’t hang together well.  Though talky, it’s much less of a turgid slog than some of his other work (Ahem, Dune).  The hive-mind idea is not entirely original, but Herbert takes a different angle and asks different questions than some of his predecessors.  In fact, the novel can be viewed almost as the anti-More Than Human—do you really want to give up your individuality and privacy for the comfort of such close and inescapable community?  Especially when you might end up acting violently without even realizing it?  Four stars, with a couple of planetoids thrown in.

Note the portentousness of some of the names in this novel.  An SF fan’s first thought about Gilbert Dasein is likely that it’s homage or satirical swipe at Gilbert Gosseyn, protagonist of van Vogt’s The World of Null-A.  But that’s probably wrong.  “Dasein” is German philosopher Martin Heidegger’s term for existence, as it is experienced by human beings.  Karl Jaspers is another German philosopher.  Jean Piaget is a Swiss psychologist famous for his studies of child development, some of whose work looks as much like philosophy as psychology.  A student of philosophy, which I am not, might make something of these names, but I’d suggest that the novel works well enough without that kind of gloss.

The Trouble with You Earth People, by Katherine MacLean


by Jeff Jones

Katherine MacLean contributed a number of incisive stories to the SF magazines from 1949 into the early ’50s (Defense Mechanism, —And Be Merry, Incommunicado, Contagion, etc.), and a few since then (mainly Unhuman Sacrifice).  Her novelet The Trouble with You Earth People isn’t on that level; it’s an amusing and mildly bawdy story of cultural misunderstanding between doggish alien visitors, whose understanding of humanity is based on watching television, and an easily scandalized elderly scientist.  It reads like it could have used another draft.  Three stars.

Remote Control, by Walter Kateley

To the reprints.  Walter Kateley’s Remote Control (from Amazing, April 1930), opens with the narrator’s friend Kingston showing him around a large construction project.  It is being carried out by animals—whales and sharks carrying heavy freight, apes and elephants unloading it, and as for the typing and computation required for such a project: “The machines were being operated at lightning speed, not by lady typists, as one might expect, but by bushy-tailed gray squirrels!”


by Hans Wessolowski

The author now flashes back to an earlier time, when Kingston has joined the narrator on his family farm, and assists with his observations of ants.  The two are puzzled by the ants’ efficiency in carrying out cooperative tasks without anything much resembling a brain and with no indication of how their activities are coordinated.  Then an accidental mixture of buttermilk and cedar oil gets on one of their lenses, and—revelation!  Now they can see tiny bright lines of energy leading from the ants back into the nest, which when followed to their source reveal a tiny brain that is apparently coordinating all their activity.  The possibilities are obvious, and it’s a short hop from these naturally manipulated ants to whales and elephants working construction, with squirrels on typewriters in the office, and human puppet masters somewhere off premises.

This one is amusing at first, but quickly gets tedious, since the story consists mostly of Kingston and narrator lecturing each other, with the narrator at one point reading aloud a passage from his favorite entomology text.  Fortunately this “novelet” runs only 18 pages of large print and is over quickly.  Two stars.

"You'll Die Yesterday!", by Rog Phillips

Rog Phillips’s “You’ll Die Yesterday!” (from the March 1951 Amazing) is a piece of yard goods by one of Ray Palmer’s stable of hacks—but a pretty capable one.  Phillips published some 44 stories in a little over six years before this one, mostly in Amazing and Fantastic Adventures, and clearly has the knack to meet Palmer’s famous editorial demand to “gimme bang-bang.” Protagonist Stevens, author of a successful book, is giving a lecture; an audience member asks a question but is shot before Stevens can answer; the killer runs out of the auditorium but inexplicably disappears.  Before the cops arrive, Stevens swipes some papers carried by the decedent, Fred Stone, and shows by home carbon-dating that they are from the future.  Also, Stone was carrying a “T.T.” permit (figure it out) and a printed copy of Stevens’s speech, which was extemporaneous, so it could only have been prepared later from a transcript.  Next day, Stevens’s girlfriend sees Stone, alive, on the street.  Turns out his body is missing from the morgue.


by Julian S. Krupa

More developments come thick and fast and there’s a revelation at the end which actually doesn’t resolve much, but might seem to if the reader wasn’t paying close attention, as I suspect was the case with much of the Palmer Amazing’s readership.  So it’s a clever if insubstantial riff on the time paradox theme.  Three stars for good workmanship.

The Great Invasion of 1955, by David Reid

The Great Invasion of 1955, by David Reid, from the October 1932 Amazing, is another tedious old story in which the Japanese are invading the United States and are vanquished by new technology based on now out-of-date science.  It may be of interest to those interested in speculative helicopter design.  Otherwise, one star.

Turnover Point, by Alfred Coppel

Alfred Coppel, author of Turnover Point (Amazing, April-May 1953), helped fill the SF pulps and lower-echelon digests with mostly forgettable material from the late ‘40s until the mid-‘50s, when he disappeared from the genre, briefly reappearing in 1960 with the well-received post-nuclear war novel Dark December.  This story is a bucket of cliches—a Bat Durston, i.e. a displaced Western—which is a surprise, since it appeared in the first issue of the magazine’s brief flirtation with high pay rates and higher quality content.  But here it is, alongside Heinlein, Sturgeon, and Bradbury.  A sample:

“The Patrol was on Kane’s trail and the blaster in his hand was still warm when he shoved it up against Pop Ganlon’s ribs and made his proposition.

“He wanted to get off Mars—out to Callisto.  To Blackwater, to Ley’s Landing, it didn’t matter too much.  Just off Mars, and quickly.  His eyes had a metallic glitter and his hand was rock-steady.  Pop knew he meant what he said when he told him life was cheap.  Someone else’s, not Kane’s.”


by Ed Emshwiller

The bad guy hiring Pop’s battered old spaceship turns out to be the one who killed Pop’s son, a Patrol officer who “was blasted to a cinder in a back alley in Lower Marsport.” Pop knows Kane is going to kill him after “turnover point”—the point at which the spaceship is turned around (a maneuver accomplished with a flywheel) so its business end faces the destination for deceleration and landing.  But Pop has the last laugh—he didn’t turn the ship around to decelerate for landing, but made a full 360 degree turn, so it continues on towards the outer reaches of the solar system, where Kane can starve, suffocate, and go crazy after it is too late to do anything about it.  Whoopee!  Two stars, barely, since it’s at least capably written for what it is.

Science of Man: Neanderthals, Rickets and Modern Technology, by Leon E. Stover

Prof. Leon Stover’s article suggests that the Neanderthals died out because they wore clothes, shielding themselves from sunlight and therefore from vitamin D.  Vitamin D deficiency causes rickets, which has serious enough consequences to affect evolutionary success.  Clothing was the Neanderthals’ technological solution to the glaciation of their habitat; what saved them then killed them off.  Vitamin D absorption, or lack of it, also accounts for the distribution of races: dark skin absorbs less than light skin, so dark-skinned peoples flourish in the tropics where there’s a surfeit of sunlight, while light-skinned people dominate at higher latitudes.  The moral: people must assess the consequences of their technological development, as the Neanderthals failed to, and we need a lot more technically trained people than we’ve got.

It all seems plausible and is lucidly enough written.  Is he right?  Beats me.  Three stars.

The Future in Books

Ordinarily I don’t rate the book review columns, but this one is unusual, containing Fritz Leiber’s review of French writer Claude Seignolle’s The Accursed: Two Diabolical Tales.  Leiber traces the current revival of “Gothic” fiction, recognizable by the paperback covers depicting an anxious-looking woman, with a large house in the background displaying a single lighted window, and notes the less formulaic older books being reprinted under cover of this new wave (excuse the expression) of yard goods. 

This brings us to Leiber’s typology of “the true Gothic or supernatural-horror story,” of which there are two flavors: “Can such things be?” and “Such things are!  So let’s go whole hog!” He continues: “The first type of story aims to make a sensitive, intelligent reader question for a deliciously scary moment the stable, science-proved foundations of the world in which he trusts.  The second provides a feast of grue for those who relish such banquets.” Seignolle’s two novellas (one featuring a young pyrotic, the other a young lycanthrope) are firmly in the second camp, as Leiber shows by judicious description and quotation.

This is all lively and informative, above and beyond the usual book review, though Leiber disappointingly fails to describe where Seignolle’s work fits into the fantastic tradition (or lack of it) in his native France.  Also, the book is introduced by Lawrence Durrell, a rather large noise in contemporary literature after his Alexandria Quartet; Leiber does not mention what Durrell has to say about the book, or about Seignolle generally.  So, three stars; a good piece that should have been better.  (And this rating in no way reflects the other review here, a distasteful hit job on Roger Zelazny’s Lord of Light bylined “Leroy Tanner,” well known as a pseudonym of Harrison’s.)

Summing Up

So, a good novel (though one begun under the previous regime), a decent new story, the usual uneven bunch of reprints, and some stirrings of life in the non-fiction departments.  I’m not sure that adds up to “promising”—more like “steady as she goes”—so we’ll have to leave it with a version of the baseball fans’ lament: “wait till next issue.”




5 Comments Leave A Comment
Science Fiction/Fantasy, TV

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

6 Comments


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)!



6 Comments Leave A Comment
Book, Science Fiction/Fantasy

[January 10, 1968] Saving the Best For Last (Dangerous Visions, Part Three)

5 Comments


by Victoria Silverwolf

Welcome to the last of our three discussions about an anthology of original fantasy and science fiction that's drawing a lot of attention. Love it or hate it, or maybe a little of both, it's impossible to ignore. I showed you the full wraparound cover the the first time, and offered a closer look at the front the second time, so here's the back cover. It gives you a convenient list of the authors.

As before, I'll give each story the usual star rating as well as using the colors of a traffic light to indicate how dangerous it might be.

Dangerous Visions, edited by Harlan Ellison


Art by Leo and Diane Dillion.

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

A woman desperately tries to escape her pursuers. Flashbacks tell us more about this dystopian world.

Saying anything more would lessen the impact of this intense little story. Ellison's introduction compares it to the work of Shirley Jackson, and that's a fair analogy. It's deceptively quiet and matter-of-fact at times, but full of icy horror at its heart.

Four stars. YELLOW for unrelieved grimness.

The Happy Breed, by John T. Sladek

In the near future, machines take care of all our problems, leaving us to enjoy a life of leisure. Of course, what the machines think is best for us may not agree with our own ideas.

This dark satire on automation isn't exactly subtle. It makes its point clearly enough, and follows it to its logical conclusion. The details of the characters' degeneration make it worth reading.

Three stars. YELLOW for cynicism.

Encounter with a Hick, by Jonathan Brand

Our smart aleck narrator tells us how he met a fellow from a less sophisticated background and what happened when he told the man something about the origin of his planet.

You'll probably figure out the punchline of this extended joke. Despite its predictability, I enjoyed the story's wise guy style. Others may find the narrator annoyingly smug.

Three stars. YELLOW for a wry look at deeply held beliefs.

From the Government Printing Office, by Kris Neville

Set at a near future time when childrearing has changed in an eye-opening way, this yarn is told through the eyes of a kid who is only three and one-half years old. Adults are bewildering creatures indeed!

The quirky choice of viewpoint, with its combination of precocity and naiveté, is what makes this story worth a look. I'm not quite sure what the author is saying about parents and children, but it's provocative.

Three stars. YELLOW for an unflattering portrait of Mom and Dad.

Land of the Great Horses, by R. A. Lafferty

All over the world, people with Romany ancestors feel compelled to return to a place that vanished long ago. But what will disappear next?

This synopsis fails to capture the author's eccentric style and unusual combination of whimsy and oddball speculation. If you like Lafferty, you'll enjoy it. If not, you won't. Like many of his works, it's something of a tall tale and a shaggy dog story. I dug it.

Four stars. GREEN for kookiness.

The Recognition, by J. G. Ballard

The narrator witnesses a woman and a dwarf set up a strange menagerie at night, not far from where a carnival is in progress. The mystery of the cages deepens as visitors show up.

I find this story difficult to describe. It's quite a bit different from the author's jagged, chopped up pieces for New Worlds, and from his decadent tales of Vermillion Sands. It's very subtle, and there seems to be more than meets the eye. The premise evokes thoughts of Ray Bradbury, but only in an extremely subdued way. Maybe haunting is the word I'm looking for.

Four stars. GREEN for intriguing writing.

Judas, by John Brunner

A robot sets itself up as God. One of the people who created it sets out to destroy the false deity.

The plot is simple enough, and the analogy between the worship of the robot and Christianity is made crystal clear. You may predict the twist ending, given the story's title.

Three stars. YELLOW for religious themes.

Test to Destruction, by Keith Laumer

The leader of a group of rebels is captured by the forces of a dictator. They use a gizmo to retrieve information from his brain. Meanwhile, in what has to be the wildest coincidence of all time, aliens approaching Earth also probe his brain, in order to learn how to conquer humanity. The combination is explosive.

Looking at my synopsis, I get the feeling that this isn't the most plausible story in the world. Since it's by Laumer, you know it's a fast-moving adventure yarn. As a matter of fact, it's so lightning-paced that it makes his other stories look slow. The reader is left breathless. There's a serious point made at the end, but mostly it's just a thrill ride.

Three stars. GREEN for action, action, action.

Carcinoma Angels, by Norman Spinrad

The delightfully named Harrison Wintergreen is a guy who has always gotten what he wanted out of life. As a kid, baseball cards. As a young man, women. As an adult, tons of money. Now he's got terminal cancer. Can he triumph over the ultimate challenge?

As Ellison says in his introduction, this is a funny story about cancer. Sick humor, to be sure. Bad taste? Well, maybe, but I think you'll get a kick out of it.

Four stars. YELLOW for black comedy.

Auto-Da-Fé, by Roger Zelazny

Replace a bullfight with a battle between man and car, and you've got this tongue-in-cheek tale. All the details of a traditional corrida del toros are here, transformed to fit the automotive theme.

It's a one idea story, to be sure, but stylish.

Three stars. GREEN for elegant writing.

Aye, and Gomorrah . . ., by Samuel R. Delany

Space explorers are raised from childhood to be absolutely free of sexual characteristics. It's impossible to tell if they started off as female or male; they are completely neuter in every way. People known as frelks are attracted to them.

Amazingly, this is the first short story Delany ever sold, although others have already appeared in magazines. It's superbly written, as you'd expect, and explores sex and gender in completely new, profound ways.

Five stars. RED for unimagined forms of human sexuality.

20 20 Hindsight

Looking back at the book as a whole, it's clear that the level of stories is generally high, with a few clunkers. Not all the stories are dangerous, and they could have been published elsewhere. A few are truly groundbreaking. The Silverberg, Leiber, and Delany are the best. The Sturgeon is the biggest disappointment. The Farmer is going to start the most arguments. Put on your reading glasses, fasten your seat belt, and give it a try.



5 Comments Leave A Comment
Science Fiction/Fantasy, TV

[January 8, 1968] Seeing Double…Again (Doctor Who: The Enemy Of The World [Part 1])

1 Comment


By Jessica Holmes

Happy New Year, everyone! We’re off to a cracking start this year with a spy thriller that really gives Patrick Troughton the chance to show off his (very good) acting chops and (very questionable) dialect skills. Let’s get stuck into Doctor Who: The Enemy Of The World.

EPISODE ONE

After all the cold weather of the last few episodes, a trip to the sunny seaside in the year 2018 is just the sort of thing the Doctor and his companions need. However, the Doctor’s refreshing dip in the briny is cut short when a gang of assassins try to fill him up with lead.

Fleeing into the sand dunes, the gang are almost cornered when the assassins’ boss shows up with a helicopter—but fortunately, she’s here to rescue them. It seems there has been a case of mistaken identity.

It’s a jolly exciting first few minutes, that’s for sure.

Their saviour Astrid (Mary Peach) takes the group to her bungalow, where she turns on the charm. The Doctor very much enjoys her attentions until she asks him if he wouldn’t mind doing her a favour. One that will very likely get him killed. She wants to introduce him to her boss, Giles Kent (Bill Kerr)… as soon as they get away from the assassins still in hot pursuit, leaving a dead assassin in Astrid’s living room and an exploded helicopter in her back garden.

See, it appears that the Doctor has a doppelganger. Again. Last time this happened (St. Barthomew's Eve), it was a French bishop, but this time it’s a Mexican would-be dictator by the name of Ramón Salamander.

The Doctor’s uncanny resemblance to Salamander (other than the questionable accent, brown-face and neat hairdo) could be an incredible boon to those who wish to bring Salamander down. But would that be a good thing? To all appearances, Salamander is an absolute godsend, having invented a technology to capture sunlight and use it to aid crop growth in disaster-stricken areas. It also happens that he has an uncanny ability to predict when and where these disasters will strike, and is always the first to offer aid.

It all seems a bit too good to be true for Kent, but the Doctor isn’t entirely convinced. Maybe they shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth? Then again, this horse might be Trojan.

Powerful men have a habit of dropping dead around Salamander, with his cronies taking their places. Kent claims that Salamander ruined his career when he got too close to the truth, but it could all just be sour grapes. There’s only one way to know for sure. The Doctor must become Ramón Salamander, and break into his research station to find out the truth about his plans for the world.

With a few weeks to practice, he could pull it off, though he’s still not sure he’s even willing to try it.

But Kent won’t give him a few weeks to practice, or even a few minutes to think. Thanks to a call from him, the head of United Zone security, Donald Bruce (Colin Douglas) is on the way. If he sees the Doctor out-of-character, he’ll put him under arrest for impersonating Salamander.

The only way out is to put on a flawless performance.

The Doctor hastily changes into some smarter clothes and gives his hair a brush while the others stall Bruce, who understandably has questions about the dead man in Astrid’s living room. It’s not exactly easy to explain away, but fortunately the Doctor doesn’t miss his cue, emerging in character as Ramón Salamander.

It is so weird.

EPISODE TWO

The Doctor finds himself very much thrown in at the deep end as Bruce demands an explanation for his presence here. But who is Bruce to demand explanations of the great Ramón Salamander? Nobody! And so he refuses to explain himself—and the ruse works.

The Doctor is still unconvinced he’s even aiding the right side, but Jamie encourages him to go along with things. I think he’s enjoying this.

Jamie, Victoria and Astrid rocket over to the Central European Zone to begin infiltration. Meanwhile, the Doctor and Kent go to observe Salamander’s research station from a cabin just outside the restricted area.

As for the real Salamander, he is warning the leader of the Central European Zone, Denes (George Pravda), about an impending eruption in a long dormant volcanic area in Hungary. I don’t think any volcanoes in Hungary have actually erupted for hundreds of thousands of years, but Salamander insists he knows all about volcanoes, so who am I to disagree?

However, Denes (by the way it’s pronounced ‘Denesh’) is doubtful about the risk.

Meanwhile, Astrid manages to plant a bomb on Salamander’s balcony, providing Jamie the opportunity to turn up at the right time to ‘save’ Salamander. A grateful Salamander offers Jamie a job with his household guard, and Jamie even manages to finagle a job in the kitchens for Victoria.

It turns out that Denes is in league with Astrid, and knows that Salamander is probably going to try and replace him with a more loyal stooge. He just can’t think of a reason that the most likely candidate, Fedorin (David Nettheim), should betray him.

Well, aside from petty ambition, it looks like Salamander is very talented at finding ways to motivate people. He finds incriminating information, then holds it against them as insurance. Whether the incriminating information is true or not is irrelevant, it looks real and that’s all that matters. Fedorin reluctantly agrees to Salamander’s plan to remove Denes from power, and right on cue…

BOOM! A whole mountain range erupts in a glorious montage of stock footage, to the undisguised awe of Salamander and the dismay of all others present.

Well, doesn’t that seem a little convenient?

It certainly seems so to Denes, who storms in and accuses Salamander of somehow causing this disaster. Because this is Doctor Who and Salamander is very obviously the baddie, he’s probably right… but you must admit that this is quite an eccentric accusation.

And it makes it very easy for Salamander to discredit Denes. He demands Bruce (who has just arrived) to arrest him, and Bruce complies. With the United Zone security forces at Salamander’s beck and call, why bother with all the manipulation? He could just seize power by force at this point. Seems like he’s just making more work for himself. Or perhaps he needs the hero-worship as much as he wants the power that comes with it.

EPISODE THREE

Though Denes is out of power and in handcuffs, that still isn’t enough for Salamander, who orders Federin to finish Denes off with a vial of poison. I think Salamander could stand to learn a thing or two about the art of subtlety.

Then again, when you’re powerful enough you can get away with this sort of thing.

While working in the kitchens under a comically dour chef, Victoria makes the acquaintance of Salamander’s food taster, Fariah (Carmen Munroe). Fariah is a less than willing employee of Salamander, but the exact nature of his hold on her is unclear. Nevertheless, she seems to hold quite a bit of soft power in his household, able to vouch for Jamie when a guard gets a little too suspicious of him. She warns Victoria that Salamander is bad news, and that she should get well away from him as fast as she can.

The Doctor and Kent, meanwhile, have learned of the disaster in Europe and are wondering how Salamander could have predicted it…or caused it. Kent has a theory. A suspicious amount of funding went into Salamander’s research station, far more than should have been required for its stated purpose of solar energy storage. However, when he tried to prove that there was something dodgy about how Salamander was handling the funds, the proof mysteriously vanished, replaced with falsified documents.

Having learned of Denes’ arrest, Astrid starts putting plans into place to attempt a rescue, pretending to be a messenger in order to do so. However, when no message actually arrives for him, Salamander gets suspicious as to what this stranger is doing in the presidential palace, and orders his guards to follow her.

Meanwhile, Fedorin gets an opportunity to poison Denes’ food, but finds himself unable to follow through. Salamander is of course very understanding when Fedorin returns to him, full poison vial in hand. He even offers him a drink… poisoned with the very toxin that Fedorin was supposed to deliver to Denes.

Well, if Fedorin didn’t see it coming, that’s on him.

At 11 on the dot, Jamie creates a distraction, but Astrid’s side of the plan goes awry. Not only does she fail to help Denes escape, he gets a bullet in the back. Then there’s a very abrupt cut to a new scene, with Jamie and Victoria captured and Astrid nowhere in sight. It feels like the scene was cut about a minute too early, which is odd for what is otherwise a very well paced serial.

Once the guards haul the pair away, Bruce finally gets a chance to ask Salamander what he was doing in Australia…which of course is news to Salamander. And the penny drops for the pair of them. Someone is impersonating him.

And we know Who.

Final Thoughts

Oh, this is an excellent start. Really excellent. It is very refreshing to have a different flavour of plot for once. No aliens (other than the Doctor), no bug-eyed monsters, just some intrigue and a fun spy plot. It might be a tad complicated in places, but I think kids are smart enough to keep up.

Troughton’s great as the Doctor, but he also makes a fantastic villain. Ramón Salamander has flair, panache, and a genuine sense of menace. In fact, he wouldn’t be out of place in a James Bond film. The one thing I don’t care for is the brownface and that absurd accent. Troughton is more than capable of distinguishing Salamander as an entirely different character to the Doctor without the assistance of such things. It’s not just the voice, he carries himself in a new way, emotes differently, his entire essence is just completely altered from when he’s playing the Doctor. I was genuinely impressed, and I really look forward to seeing how the two characters interact in the future.




1 Comment Leave A Comment
Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy

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

12 Comments


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.

12 Comments Leave A Comment
Science Fiction/Fantasy, TV

[January 4, 1968] How much for that fuzzy in the window? (Star Trek: The Trouble with Tribbles")

5 Comments

No Tribble at All


by Joe Reid

Following on the heels of an episode that I found to be problematic, with the introduction of the outer space ghostly version of Jack the Ripper, Star Trek fans everywhere have been gifted with an episode that is a successful combination of the sci-fi and comedy genres.  Brothers and sisters, “The Trouble with Tribbles” was well written, well-acted, and well scored.  It was not just good sci-fi and good TV; I would go as far as considering it an instant classic, a technicolor rendition of some of my favorite comedies in the vein of Dick Van Dyke or Lewis and Martin.

The episode started off giving a small a hint to what was in store.  The Enterprise was speeding along in space.  Kirk, Spock, and Chekov were meeting to discuss the upcoming mission to Space Station K-7.  It is at the meeting that Chekov makes a quip about the Klingons being so close to K-7 that we could smell them.  It’s then that Spock jumped in, playing the straight man, letting him know that smelling people in space was illogical.  The actor who played Chekov was able to stretch his comedic legs in this episode.  The young man took almost every opportunity to make funny statements about how everything was either discovered by or invented by Russians.


Davidushka Ivanov, now sporting his own hair!

Soon after the Enterprise got an emergency distress call from the K-7 space station.  They rushed in to come to the rescue with their phasers ready to blast and found that there was no emergency or attack to speak of.  Kirk was angered by this and butted heads with the Federation official that was just the type of weasel to get under Kirk’s skin.  It was here where we started to see a series of gags being set up.  We had one situation where everyone else knew about a magical new grain except Kirk, which irked him to no end.  Scotty turned from bookish to a bad influence on young officers by getting into a fight when someone insulted the Enterprise.  A salesman named Cyrano Jones, trying to make a few space bucks and get free drinks from the bar on K-7, unleashed a locust swarm of cute, furry, rapidly multiplying critters that ended up getting in everything, everywhere.  These "tribbles", the namesake of the episode, were the glue that bound this ensemble together.  Yes, they were troublesome, but it was in a way that made for a fun time.


Enough fun for everyone!

By ensemble I also mean the cast.  All the actors had plenty of lines and were important to the story, the Klingons included.  We also saw the crew showing off comedic timing, slapstick antics, and giving each other funny looks when things went awry.  All of the characters and situations that were set up in the episode were hilarious and served the story well.  The tribbles and the Klingons made this episode very Star Trek and the wonderful acting made the comedic notes hit their marks.


"Hey, plebe in the back–thanks a lot for the help!"

By the end of the episode there were a mess of tribbles, a mess of a brawl, and a mess of a situation that Kirk and crew had to fix.  Which they did to the satisfaction of all.  I’ve purposefully kept the small details of the episode to myself, so as not to diminish the joy of anyone who hasn’t seen this episode.  This episode needs to be watched.  Check your local listings to find out when the next airing happens in your area.  It will be worth your time.

Five stars

Cute, but Dangerous


by Robin Rose Graves

It’s easy to understand the appeal of Tribbles. Soft fur, sweet purring to melt your heart and a friendly disposition (that is, if you aren’t a Klingon). It’s no wonder someone thought these would make an excellent pet! Or the perfect merchandise, as Cyrano Jones noted, their prolific nature made for easy stock.

As Bones investigated Tribble biology after Lt. Uhura agreed to part with one of her Tribbles’ offspring, he concluded that Tribbles are “born pregnant” or “bisexual” in nature, meaning they are capable of impregnating themselves. This made me wonder what kind of environment Tribbles originated from that would cause them to evolve these unique features. For one, they are obviously a type of prey, producing more offspring than will live to maturity. Not only are Tribbles prolific, but they waste no time in reproducing, suggesting that Tribbles have a short lifespan and are so endangered in their native environment that they can’t waste time in finding a mate. If a Tribble does not immediately produce, they risk extinction.

But while not actively aggressive, Tribbles proved to be, as the episode title suggested, troublesome.


Not to mention cumbersome.

Without their natural predators to keep their numbers in check, Tribbles multiplied out of control. In this episode, it was rather comedic how they spread throughout the Enterprise and gobbled up an entire supply of grain. But imagine if this episode took place on planetside instead, how devastating the effects of these adorable little critters could be. They live to eat and reproduce and as we’ve seen with the grain, Tribbles never seem to get their fill. On a foreign planet without predators, they would devour entire crops and local flora into extinction, causing colonies to starve, as well as any other grazing alien life – and should those grazing prey die, their predators would in turn starve. Tribbles might be the universe’s cutest bioweapon. Clearly there are laws to prevent the spread of harmful alien life, as at the end of the episode, Cyrano Jones faces 20 years in prison.

On the other hand, if Tribbles are edible and nutritious for humans, I’d argue they’d make the perfect source of protein for space traveling vessels.


"Tribbles and beans for dinner again?"

Even if Tribbles aren't tasty, they probably will make for some tres chic fur coats.

The concept of invasive species (a la rabbits in Australia) is an interesting aspect of space travel which science fiction doesn’t often address. This episode does so well and all the while being delightfully entertaining.

Five Stars.

A soldier, not a diplomat?


by Erica Frank

One of the fascinating parts of this episode was comparing Kirk's interactions with the Klingons to those with his own government officials.

With captain Koloth of the Klingons, he is cordially hostile: Both he and they are aware that their governments are rivals, bordering on enemies. There is no official warfare between them, but they both seem to know it's coming someday. They smile and talk politely while they are both aware that they would cheerfully kill each other to protect their people.

The station master does not have the authority to deny them access, but Kirk apparently does, since he can set rules about their visit. But he also knows that just saying "go away" without reason will escalate the hostilities, so he confines himself to requiring guards on them. There's no way to know if the resulting bar fight was better or worse than whatever would have happened if the Klingons had had free access to the station.


Nobody is happy to be here and yet everyone is smiling. Except for Spock. He doesn’t count.

On the other hand, we have Kirk's relations with Baris, the Agricultural Undersecretary. With him, he is not cordially hostile, but shows outright, direct animosity. He chafes under the forced authority. This is not because he can't follow orders (he obeyed the "Code 1 Emergency" call without question), but because he believes the Undersecretary has poor judgment and is wasting valuable resources–that is to say, the Enterprise's resources and crew's time. And he's not at all shy about telling him, even in front of the Klingons, that he's unhappy to comply.

In the end, the Undersecretary's fears were pointless; no number of guards could have protected the already-poisoned grain. And the presence of the Klingons turned out to be a blessing: without them, and the tribbles' shrieking anger (or fear), they would not have identified Darvin. They might have noticed that the tribbles didn't like him–but without the Klingons for comparison, they wouldn't have known why. They probably would not have uncovered his role as an enemy agent.

We don't have any evidence that Koloth was aware of the plot at all, but once it was discovered a Klingon agent poisoned the grain, he'd be under heightened scrutiny. Kirk gives him an easy out: Leave the area immediately, and nobody has to go through an interrogation that might kick off a war. Kirk can afford to be generous; after all, they did provide him a convenient way to spot their turncoat.

The only question left in my mind: Who are the people of Sherman's Planet, and why don't they get to choose which government will rule their skies?

Five stars.

Strange new worlds


by Lorelei Marcus

I appreciate any Star Trek episode that expands the scope of its fictional universe, but "Trouble with Tribbles" was a special treat. We get an expansion of the Federation's internal structure and range of command: not only is there an undersecretary of agriculture, but the Federation appears to be directly responsible for new colony projects. Private venture still seems to be a driving motivation for the seeding of new planets, but the Federation is in charge of approving and carrying out the operation as the central governmental figure in the universe. The Enterprise and her twelve sister ships comprise Starfleet, the Federation's military arm, tasked to defend against hostile alien empires.

Speaking of which, we also get our third glimpse of the Klingons, still at odds with Starfleet over space territory, and our first mention of the Organian Treaty after its establishment. The Treaty plays a decent role in the episode, and it's so refreshing to see a science fiction series utilize elements from previous episodes to create a believable and concrete universe. I enjoyed the anthology format of Twilight Zone, and even the more episodic nature of the first season of Star Trek, but I am loving this new direction for continuity across episodes even more.

My favorite part of this week's show, however, was the variety of new characters and locations. Getting to see several rooms in and the exterior of the deep space station K7 was very exciting. The completely new sets and models brought the station to life, and emphasized how narrow our perspective on The Enterprise really is. The adventures on Kirk's ship are but a narrow sliver of the possible stories to be told in the Star Trek universe.


Dig this nifty two-person transporter!

Furthermore, this was one of the few instances we get to see members of the Federation who are not part of Starfleet. The tribble tradesman in particular interests me, because he represents a world of people we have yet to see. Nearly everyone we've encountered so far comes from fairly similar backgrounds, either Starfleet Academy trained, a colonist, or an alien. Cyrano Jones is just an asteroid-hopping merchant, probably with little traditional education, and from unknown origins. He is the common man, working to earn enough credits to make a living, and the type of person we hardly see as we are led to the fringes of the galaxy aboard The Enterprise. He reminds us that there are billions of people out there within a thriving bureaucratic and economic structure that spans the galaxy, all of which is just offscreen. Never before have I seen such an ambitious attempt to portray a universe with such depth through the medium of television.

Five stars.

This is the face you'll be making if you don't join us for Trek tomorrow!

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



5 Comments Leave A Comment
Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy, Serial

[January 2, 1968] The consequences of success (February 1968 IF)

4 Comments


by David Levinson

A major medical advancement

On December 2nd, in Observatory, Cape Town, South Africa, a young woman named Denise Darvall was struck by a drunk driver. She was rushed to a nearby hospital, but doctors could do nothing for her and abandoned resuscitation attempts at 9:00 p. m. The doctors approached her father, informed him of his daughter’s death, and told him that it might be possible to save someone else’s life by transplanting her heart. After a few minutes of consideration, Mr. Darvall gave his permission.

The patient in question was 55-year-old grocer Louis Washkansky, whose own heart was giving out. Surgery began shortly after 1:00 in the morning of December 3rd under the leadership of Dr. Christiaan Barnard. Mr. Washkansky began his recovery in good spirits, and Dr. Barnard declared the operation a success, because the heart was doing its job without external assistance. Unfortunately, Mr. Washkansky contracted pneumonia – possibly as a result of the drugs he was given to suppress his immune system to prevent rejection of the new heart – and died of complications from that illness on December 21st.

Louis Washkansky talks to Dr. Barnard in the days following the surgery.

Nevertheless, this was a strong first step (I cannot accept the attempt a few years ago in Mississippi to transplant a chimpanzee heart into a human as serious), and we can add the heart to corneas and kidneys as a transplantable organ. Lung, liver, and pancreas transplants have all been attempted, but can still only be considered experimental at this point. However, it’s clear that great strides are being made, and one day in the not too distant future one person’s untimely death may allow many others to live full lives. Let’s just hope this doesn’t take us down the dark road Larry Niven imagines.

Considering the consequences

Larry Niven starts a new novel in this month’s IF in which he offers a warning about where successful organ transplants could take us. The characters in a couple other stories also have to ask themselves just where their actions might lead.

This dreamscape doesn’t appear in Robert Sheckley’s new story, but it could. Art by Vaughn Bodé

Slowboat Cargo (Part 1 of 3), by Larry Niven

Three hundred years after the colonization of Plateau, society is divided into crew, who enjoy all the privileges and leisure, and colonists, who do all the work and whose bodies go into the organ banks to keep the crew healthy. A new discovery delivered by automated spaceship from Earth may change all that. The story follows colonist Matt Keller, head of Implementation Jesus Pietro Castro, and occasionally Millard Parlette, the 190-year-old head of the government. Matt finds himself at a party that is cover for a meeting of the rebel group Sons of Earth, where they hope to discuss the delivery from Earth, which is then raided by Implementation under the lead of dread Castro himself. Matt is the only person to escape, because he has the strange psychic ability of making people forget he exists in moments of stress. Feeling guilty about the capture of his new friends, Matt decides he must break into the Hospital and free them. As this installment ends, he has managed to get in without being arrested. To be continued.

Implementation guards? To call this style “comic book” would insult fine artists like Jack Kirby and Steve Ditko. “Art” by Adkins

Niven continues to flesh out the universe in which he sets his stories, and not just at a single point in time. We’ve visited Plateau before, but that was obviously long after the events here, since society is very different. He’s also covering some of the same ground as his story in Dangerous Visions. This novel is probably part of how we get from there to the world of Beowulf Schaeffer.

I was particularly taken with Niven’s handling of exposition. While there are expository passages explaining things like the history of Plateau, they’re handled by the narrative. But it’s his use of little details that tell us a lot about the society in which his characters live, the things they take for granted, that impressed me. Very much a case of showing, not telling.

Originally, I was going to give this installment four stars, but on reflection I have to lower that score slightly. Matt’s power is just a little too over the top. I can see it working in social situations, such as we’re shown early on, but getting arrested and then having the guards just forget he’s there is too much.

A very high three stars.

The Petrified World, by Robert Sheckley

Lanigan suffers from a recurring nightmare. Maybe a visit with his therapist will help.

Does Lanigan wake or dream? Art uncredited, but Bodé’s signature is visible.

What a disappointment. It was obvious from the get-go and concludes with faux profundity. Sheckley may have written this under the influence of LSD. At least it was short.

A high two stars, only because Sheckley writes well.

Star Bike, by B. K. Filer

Ed Lamb is a mechanic and occasional motorcycle racer who loves nothing more than tearing up the backroads of Nova Scotia on his old Norton. He encounters a couple of strange men who say they’re American astronauts and their ship needs a quick repair. Ed helps them out and they reward him with some motor oil. That might not have been a good idea.

Ed on his beloved Norton. Art by Gaughan

I’m not one for motorcycles, and the story’s nothing special, but I quite enjoyed this one. Ed is a big improvement as a character over any in Filer’s first two stories. Third time’s the charm–or maybe it’s because he wasn’t trying to be funny this time.

Three stars.

The Courteous of Ghoor, by Robert Lory

Archie Pholpher has been chosen by the people of Ghoor to save Earth from the sun going nova by moving the planet to inside the Veil of the Federation. His only contact is the Courteous, who trains him in teleporting things and keeps the Federation from finding out.

This nothing of a story has a plot right out of the Pulp Era, modernized to fit the post-War era. It’s still 25 years out of date. Right on the line between two and three stars, but really not good enough to cross it.

A high two stars.

The Selchey Kids, by Laurence Yep

Duke (short for Deucalion) Gunnar is a survivor of the great earthquake and tidal wave that drowned San Francisco. After several years inland, he returned to the City, where he met Pryn, daughter of oceanographer Noe Selchey, who once worked with Duke’s parents. Together with a pair of trained dolphins, Duke and Pryn are sent to look for some data that should still be in the underwater wreckage of Selchey’s Institute. Duke will learn a lot about his past.

The Selchey Kids encounter danger in the ruins of San Francisco. Art by Gaughan

Yep is this month’s new author, and this is an impressive debut, especially for a 19-year-old college sophomore. Some of the character names are a little too apt, and the climax felt a bit rushed, but there’s a lot to like. The writing is otherwise strong, and I found the characters well-drawn. This is a solid foundation for the author to build on.

A high three stars.

All Judgment Fled (Part 3 of 3), by James White

After a mysterious object entered the solar system from interstellar space and took up orbit between Mars and Jupiter, an expedition was hastily cobbled together to investigate. The six men discover life aboard the alien ship, but the aliens may not be intelligent. After several hostile encounters, the commander is dead, and there are only two functional spacesuits for the four men aboard the alien ship. As the last installment ended, the ship’s engines were warming up to leave the solar system.

The astronauts manage to disable one of the engines, preventing the ship from leaving. Things gradually go from bad to worse, thanks to the ineffectual leadership of the new commander and interference from Earth based on incomplete information and political concerns. Eventually, the men disregard orders from Earth and launch a war of extermination against the starfish-like aliens. More will die, but with any luck they’ll attract the attention of the intelligent alien they believe is aboard.

Has first contact finally been made? Art by Gray Morrow

A thrilling conclusion to a novel that started out cramped and tense. I’m not sure I can really accept Earth command coming to some of the conclusions they do or the decisions they make, and some of White’s descriptions of places could be clearer, but this was a fine ending. I’d also be interested in what happens next.

Four stars for this installment and a high three for the novel as a whole.

Summing up

A good start to a new serial and a strong finish to the old. Too bad about the stuff in the middle. Maybe that’s too harsh. “The Selchey Kids” is an impressive debut, and “Star Bike” was decent. But, oh, that Sheckley story was disappointing.

Last month, editor Fred Pohl promised some new features coming this year. This issue gives us the SF Calendar, offering dates and details of upcoming science fiction events (mostly conventions). Half a page of information that looks like an ad isn’t really something to blow your horn about, even if it is a good idea. Conspicuous by its absence is Our Man in Fandom (with a promised report on last year’s World Con). Maybe it gave way to make room for the long beginning to Niven’s serial, or maybe it’s on its way out. It has felt like Carter was running out of things to say. Time will tell.

New Ellison is always welcome, and Redd has been interesting. Fingers crossed.




4 Comments Leave A Comment
Magazine, Science Fiction/Fantasy, Serial

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

6 Comments


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…



6 Comments Leave A Comment
Science Fiction/Fantasy, TV

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

6 Comments


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)!



6 Comments Leave A Comment
Science Fiction/Fantasy

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

8 Comments


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!



8 Comments Leave A Comment