16

n o v e m b e r

2 0 0 9

In the game of life, Chunga trumps monkey. Documents are adduced, footnotes proliferate, there is every appearance of monstrous erudition, and yet the whole thing makes no sense. In that sense popes and postmodernists have a lot in common. Available by editorial whim or wistfulness, or, grudgingly, for $3.50 for a single issue; PDFs of every issue may be found at eFanzines.com. Edited by Andy ([email protected]), Randy ([email protected]), and carl ([email protected]). Please address all postal correspondence to 1013 North 36th Street, Seattle WA 98103. Editors: please send three copies of any zine for trade.

  Issue 16, November 2009   In this issue . . . Tanglewood an editorial . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1 The TAFFish Inquisition a distributed dialog with Steve Green . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2

Art Credits

in order of first appearance

Steve Stiles  front cover

The Mystery of the Chalupacabra a modest proposal by Marc Laidlaw . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 5

carl juarez  most photos, design

Some Things about Donald Westlake an intro-retrospective by Ted White . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 6

Steve Green  2–4 (photos)

Two Ceremonies, One Red and One Blue field notes from middle America by Lisa Freitag . . . . . . . . 9

Marc Schirmeister  5

Ben Turpin a life in 5'4" by Steven H Silver . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 12

Potshot  7, 25

One Small Steppe a homespun Baedeker by Andy Hooper . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 14 Let Us Review Kindness To Fanzines by Randy Byers, with a side of historic Frost and Brialey . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 19 The Iron Pig a letter column by divers hands, with book note by John Hertz . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 22

Sue Mason  2

D West  3, 8, 20, 22, 31

Dan Steffan  6

William Rotsler  9, 10, 25, 28, 33 Brad Foster  11, 29 Norman Finkelshteyn  15 Paul Hannah  16 (photo, bottom) Ian Gunn  21 Alexis Gilliland  26 Grant Canfield  31

Contributors’ addresses: Claire Brialey 59 Shirley Rd., Croydon CR0 7ES United Kingdom • Randy Byers 1013 N. 36th St., Seattle, WA 98103 • Grant Canfield 7 Flemings Ct. Sausalito, CA 94965 • Brad W. Foster P.O. Box 165246 Irving, TX 75018 • Lisa Freitag 3096 S Coon Creek NW, Andover, MN 55304 • Alexis Gilliland 4030 8th St. South Arlington, VA 22204 • Steve Green 33 Scott Rd., Olton B92 7LQ United Kingdom • Paul Hannah 2603 135th St. NE Seattle, WA 98125 • John Hertz 236 S. Coronado St. #409, Los Angeles, CA 90057 • Andy Hooper 11032 30th Ave. NE Seattle, WA 98125 • Bill Kunkel 5359 Nicole, White Lake, MI 48383 • Marc Laidlaw, 15510 NE 153rd St, Woodinville WA 98072 • Sue Mason 19 Boundary St., Lostock Gralam, Nortwich CW9 7NG United Kingdom • Joseph Nicholas 15 Jansons Rd. Tottenham N15 4 JU United Kingdom • Marc Schirmeister, 1555 Vista Ln, Pasadena CA 91103 • Steven H Silver 707 Sapling Lane, Deerfield, IL 60015 • Dan Steffan 2015 NE 50th Ave., Portland, OR 97213 • Steve Stiles 8631 Lucerne Rd., Randallstown, MD 21133 • D West 16 Rockville Dr. Embsay, Skipton BD23 6NX United Kingdom • Ted White 1014 N. Tuckahoe, Falls Church, VA 22044

Tanglewood De novo or de facto? suppose this could be seen as the de facto “why this issue is late” bit, although that’s not really the intent. Anyway, Corflu Zed came and went last March without any apparent casualties aside from Nic Farey’s pocketbook. The consuite run by Suzle and a cast of thousands was a resounding success from all reports, and I thought Andy’s program was perhaps the best Corflu program I’ve ever seen. (Although it’s worth remembering that I only started attending Corflus regularly in 2000. I thought the program at Corflu Titanium was also great.) The only major disappointment was the banquet, which um ran a little short on food. We do apologize for the poor show on that front, although the fwa cage match at least provided some distraction. The next Corflu, nicknamed Cobalt, will be held in Winchester, England, 19–21 March 2010. I encourage everyone to visit www. corflu.org for further details. Rob Jackson and the rest of his capable iceberg-fandom crew will no doubt put on an excellent show. I doubt I’ll be able to make it myself, barring a miracle, but I’ve bought a supporting membership. Please consider doing the same even if you don’t think you’ll be able to go. Yes, I’m talking to you, D. West! As for myself, I’m hoping to make it to the Worldcon in Melbourne next year. There’s just something about Australia that makes me want to go there, you know? We’ll see if I can pay off my Montréal bills in time for another expensive trip. This year’s trip to that Quebec city for Worldcon fulfilled one of my lifelong dreams. The Worldcon was a hell of a lot fun, too. (It helps to have Sharee Carton around, I find.) Congrats to Lloyd & Yvonne Penney and to Catherine Crockett and Colin Hinz for running excellent fan lounges in the daytime and in the evening, respectively. Congrats to Colin and Sharee for managing to publish a one-shot on mimeo in the midst of all the usual Worldcon chaos … — Randy

ooking over the contents of this issue of Chunga, I am struck by the fact that once again, almost everything in it is at least intended to be factual. With the obvious exception of “The Mystery of

the Chalupacabra,” everything else in #16 is on the level, We have a good chunk of material that is concerned with fiction, but very little of it actually is fiction, although I can’t vouch for the letter column. Editing that was my job this time out, and it probably contains only about half of the prose actually sent by correspondents in the past year. I feel like I chose the best parts, but again, it occasions ideas of leaving paper behind altogether, a decision taken by parties as diverse as Chris Garcia, Arnie Katz and the editor of the Hugo-winning fanzine Electronic Velocipede, an eminence so worthy that I can’t remember his name. What a luxury to be able to publish any screed that comes your way, and to dun people for subscription money before letting them see your unpublished nurse novels. But then I reflect on how long it took me to read all those letters myself, and feel comfortable expediting and ensmalling your experience of them. In the most recent issue of Banana Wings, #39, Claire Brialey expends several thousand words detailing all the very good reasons why she doesn’t write more letters of comment. I agreed with all of her excuses and could think of a dozen more of my own. Have I written 50 letters of comment in my entire 30+ year fan career? I rather doubt it. It makes me appreciate once more what a loyal and responsive audience Chunga enjoys. Every issue receives reaction from a throng of readers — frequently including Claire, the big liar — at a much greater rate of response than expected by almost any other form of publication. That’s partly because of our limited circulation, but that just underscores how important every reader is to us. It’s perhaps even more important than usual that you let us know that you want to keep receiving Chunga, particularly if you are reading one of the expensive and highly-prized paper copies. A data loss since our last publication meant that the mailing list for this issue had to be painted from memory, and it will surely be subject to revision before #17. Trades are particularly prized these days — three copies please, if you can manage it, but we’d rather share one than not see your efforts at all. Or maybe you are like Eric Mayer, and actually prefer to read Chunga online at efanzines.com. If so, just let us know, and we will clutter your coffee table no more. In time, the haunting memories and waking hallucinations will also subside. — Andy

Like sidereal cosmos-dust dispersed by meteorite: insane gay-subplot with barmy Russian aristo.

Total Chunga 

 1

The TAFFish Inquisition Steve Green answers your probing questions rift your mind back to those dim days so long ago when Steve Green had just won the TAFF race, back before you met him at the Montreal Worldcon or on his subsequent victory lap across North America, back when it seemed as though the next issue of Chunga would be out any day. Remember? Fandom wondered who the hell this Steve Green guy was. What had he done to deserve the punishment of administering TAFF? Questions were asked. Steve did his best to fend them off. Just pretend you don’t know anything. Imagine he hasn’t yet spilled his guts. Break him! Break him!   — The Editors What is your first memory of science fiction or fantasy — not fandom, but of the genre? Bob Hole, East Bay, usa I was already an avid reader when I began attending primary school, and my father encouraged this aptitude by raiding the local library every weekend. As science fiction tweaked my interest, he emptied its racks of the famous yellow-sleeved Gollancz hardbacks. (Coincidentally, the same livery was confusingly used for Gollancz’s crime fiction, which is why I also read an awful lot of Agatha Christie amongst my weekly prescription of Silverberg, Heinlein, Asimov and the like.) My first encounters with sf on screen were most likely Doctor Who (vague memories of Troughton in the mid-1960s) and Thunderbirds, You Only Live Twice (1967), the original bbc run of Star Trek (1969), Marooned (1969) and a brief glimpse of Barbarella (1968) which had a profound effect which I, er, touched upon in an article reprinted in Are You Still Here? (currently available on eFanzines). What is your favorite movie that no one else seems to like, that’s undeservedly obscure? Luke McGuff, Seattle, usa Had you asked that question twenty years ago, I’d almost certainly have proffered The Wicker Man,

2 

  Total Chunga

but the intervening decades (and the widespread availability of dvds of even the most obscure material) have seen this particular film elevated from cult hit to acknowledged classic. Ditto Tremors, to an extent, though “classic” is arguably a mite over the top. That said, a few quirky projects still slip under the fannish radar, such as the supernatural thriller Frailty (2001), the riotous monster movie Deep Rising (1998), the psychological conundrum Identity (2003) and the science fiction action-adventure The Arrival (1996, written and directed by David Twohy before he got sucked into the overblown “Riddick” franchise). If a friend of yours had never read any science fiction whatsoever, and you wanted to recommend one book to introduce him/her to the genre, what book would it be? Tracy Benton, Wisconsin, usa Most likely an anthology, such as David Hartwell and Kathryn Cramer’s The Ascent of Wonder (the short story is, after all, the quintessential vehicle for sf). If this hypothetical friend specifically wanted me to recommend a novel, my choice would depend very much on their non-sf reading habits; for instance, those into Amis or Self would probably be pointed at Christopher Priest’s The Glamour, which combines solid imagination and literary verve. If you have a feeling of reduced havingness during any one of these

You’ve had a long fannish career. What are your most and least fondly remembered episodes from that career? Sandra Bond, London, uk Most fond: the peak of the “Birmingham Renaissance”, when the Birmingham sf Group was at its zenith, the Solihull sf Group was giving way to the infamous MiSFiTs and barely a month went by without at least one of us turning up with a new fanzine or soliciting for same; the atmosphere was electric, and eventually led to my chairing Novacon and (several years later) coming up with the idea for Critical Wave: The European Science Fiction and Fantasy Review. Least fond: probably Wave’s final days, as it staggered from financial crisis to crisis. Name five fans most influential on your career in fandom. Ulrika O’Brien, Kent, usa Rog Peyton, whose Andromeda Bookshop was both an oasis and a portal into sf fandom; Phil Greenaway, who invited me in 1977 to become a founder member of the British Amateur Press Association and later introduced me to my future wife; Peter Weston, who lured me to the 1979 worldcon and whose fannish regenesis in 1983 led to my chairing the following year’s Novacon; Martin Tudor, who foolishly agreed in 1987 to co-edit Critical Wave; and above all, Ann Thomas, my muse and wisest counsel for more than a quarter-century, who I miss more than words could ever hope to express. What was the best piece of free “tat” given to you for attending a movie / press junket / convention? Chris Monk, Birmingham, uk Sadly, regional journalists and freelancers rarely get the good stuff. I do have a six-inch plastic rule embossed with a Porky’s logo and a 24" standee of the homicidal hairball from Critters (the latter served as a sun blind in my study; I’d rather not

discuss if/how I ever used the former). I still have a press pack from the 1977 London preview of Star Wars and a poster I’m pretty sure was never used in this country, but that was more the proceeds of unadulterated blagging when I visited the Twentieth Century Fox offices. How about the best party you’ve ever been to? Something to rival the festival in that fabled Room 770. Lloyd Penney, Toronto, Canada That would almost certainly be the party at Martin Tudor’s house when I suddenly found myself chair of a British bid for the 1989 worldcon and the evening concluded with my propelling a particularly sleazy individual through the (closed) front door. Hell, the MiSFiTs knew how to boogie on down in those days. How do you feel about the current landscape of fanzine fandom, specifically, talking about age and experience? John Coxon, Peterborough, uk There’s a curious factionalism which runs through fandom’s history. People whom I regarded as august “old-timers” when I stepped aboard in the 1970s are revealed in the pages of Peter Weston’s Relapse to have once raced around convention hotels with water-pistols (“zap guns”) in hand; in that sense, we are all held hostage by our past. What’s really irritating is the self-erected wall between significant sections of fannish generations at the moment — too many newcomers blind to the pleasures of the fanzine, too many veterans oblivious to the opportunities offered by online fanac — but I’m sensing both are slowly easing their position. After all, when Martin and I launched Critical Wave in 1987, part of its raison d’etre was creating a nexus between the existing fandoms (sf, comics, fantasy, horror, etc). [On a personal note, I recall you felt you had to “pay your dues” before producing a fanzine,

processes, mock up eight anchor points and push them into your body.

Total Chunga 

 3

The reflex response is to praise fandom’s openness towards the outsider, but that has to be followed by the flipside observation that fandom today is far more splintered than when I entered it, more than thirty years back. Overall, though, I continue to find the mix of personalities and ideas worth far more than the occasional effort to establish new links.

and I was delighted to convince you otherwise.] What tipped you ‘over the edge’ into active fandom, rather than staying as a reader / viewer of sf? Peter Wright, Portsmouth, uk I got into fandom via fanzines, which offered me the chance to spout fairly controversial (or plain loud) opinions without needing to dodge a punch immediately afterwards. When I first attended conventions, I found out that — in the main — people were still happier engaging in discourse than fisticuffs. Why ever leave? What other hobby, enthusiasm or obsession do you have besides fandom? Lucy Huntzinger, San Francisco, usa Cinema and photography, though I’m nowhere near as accomplished in the latter arena as yourself. I really enjoy running the annual Delta Film Award (cf. its Wikipedia entry), which is a fantastic opportunity to promote the creativity of new film-makers. As exciting as the new video technology is, true cinema still requires the spark of inspiration. You’re an sf fan and a horror fan. Which novel or film, for you, combined the two most successfully? Joel Lane, Birmingham, uk The film is easy: Alien, which I wrote about at considerable length for the magazine Flesh & Blood, an article later reprinted in the book Ten Years of Terror. The novel is more problematical: much as I enjoy horror cinema, I rarely engage anymore with its literary counterpart in the long form. There are parts of William Hope Hodgson’s The House on the Borderland which blur the edges, but it’s by no means an easy read. What do you like most about fandom and fans in general? What do you like least about fandom and fans in general? Joe Kilmartin, Toronto, Canada

4 

  Total Chunga

If sf is always “not about when it is set, but when it is written”, is it a valid means of speculating about the future? (For example, HG Wells never foresaw the t-shirt.) Ray Holloway, Tipton, uk Even if I agreed completely with that premise, specific cultural tropes are always going to come out of leftfield. George Orwell’s Nineteen Eighty-Four is famously a twisted vision of Britain in 1948, when it was written, but much of the societal developments he posited (the surveillance state, run by a shadowy political machine and reinforced through subservient media) took a further forty years to entrench. Arthur Clarke predicted geostationary satellites and fax machines, Phil Dick left his fingerprints all over Second Life and Nigel Kneale sketched reality television in The Year of the Sex Olympics, but who the hell could have guessed huge chunks of international news programming would now be filled by so-called “citizen journalists” offering half-baked opinions and blurred footage filmed on mobile phones? If you really want to speculate in fiction about the future, the best answer is to cheat: backtrack a couple of culturequakes and then write an alternative history. If you could make one change in the way taff is run, what would it be? Jerry Kaufman, Seattle, usa For the past few years, I’ve argued that taff candidates should be free to nominate the convention they attend. In many cases, eastbound candidates would no doubt stick to the worldcon, and westbound to the Eastercon or a European worldcon, but we have to accept that taff is not the property of a select community which recognises the sf fanzine as its cultural root. If someone wants to stand for taff in order to attend, say, a filk convention on the other side of the Atlantic, I believe they should be able to build their platform around that concept and then attempt to convince the rest of the electorate. It’s not a popular view — I can even now imagine mutterings about “them taking over our fan fund” — but I would argue it reflects the world we live in. 

The questions he poses, some of which may never be answered, will haunt the reader for a long time to come.

irst, we lay the groundwork by replaying some of the old Taco Bell “Drop the Chalupa!” series, the ones featuring the menacing chihuahua. Remember him? This accomplished, we kick off the campaign with some grainy dashboard surveillance photos, frustrated Taco Bell border patrol agents (I’m assuming Taco Bell has some kind of Minutemen outfit going) as they chase a weird large shaggy beast loping down southwestern backroads. This should tie in with TB’s old “Make A Run for the Border!” series; check and see if Willie Nelson owes more back taxes, he might want to do new music for this promo. Anyway, over a couple weeks, we show more footage, tying it in with a series of recent break-ins and hold-ups at Taco Bell drive-throughs in the early morning hours. Some kind of vicious creature demands chalupas. The eyewitness accounts are incoherent, hysterical, traumatized by what they’ve seen. It gradually develops that Taco Bell is blaming the thefts on a mysterious beast: part canine, part something else. Build the buzz with fake Discovery Channel segments about a creature seen running on dark roads with deep-fried Mexican food items dangling from its jaws. The local people tell legends of the mysterious “Chalupacabra”! As the campaign progresses, we get clearer and clearer shots of the Chalupacabra. Finally, after maybe two or three years of milking the suspense, events come to a head. Taco Bell’s militia corner the Chalupacabra — it’s pinned in their headlights, dazzled. Swaggering agents advance on it at gunpoint. Finally we see that it’s the same old chihuahua, wrapped in the pelt of a dead coyote to make itself look large. They tear away its rags and it stands there shivering, pathetic, licking chalupa-grease off its chops. The patrolmen begin mocking the poor little dog. It pees itself. Suddenly, the real Chalupacabra steps into their headlights. It’s about the size of an African lion, but it looks more like a werewolf, or maybe the original of Pickman’s Model, down on all fours, knuckling the dirt. “Drop the chalupa,” it intones. The chihuahua begins to snicker, and we realize its terror has all been an act. As the terrified cops drop not only the chalupa but their weapons, the chihuahua scampers up to its big ghoulish buddy. The two of them trot off toward the sounds of gunfire and a hellish smutty blaze coming out of Matamoros, sharing a chalupa between them. Because this is a family commercial, they spare the lives of the Taco Border guards, but of course we suspect that in reality, the outcome would be much different. Every one of his teeth is in business for itself.

Total Chunga 

 5

Scott was not happy with Henry, because shortly after he set up shop on his own, two of Scott’s clients, Lawrence Block and Donald Westlake, left Scott and signed on with Henry. Henry worked closely with Don on his mystery novels, helping him work out the plots and in particular shepherding the “Parker” series from Pocket Books to Gold Medal. I was a bystander to much of this. When I’d drop into Henry’s office, which I did frequently then, Google has pages of sites dealing with Westlake (July 12, 1933 – December 31, 2008). Quite a few I might run into Block or Westlake (which is how I met them both), or Henry might be wrestling with are obituaries and tributes. I read some of them (although I didn’t print any of them out), and it was a problem (plot or publishing) of Westlake’s and tell me about it. both depressing and an indication of how many literate, intelligent people felt the loss of his passing. It was Henry, for example, who told me how the “Parker” series became a series. It seemed Westlake Clearly, I wasn’t his only fan. had envisioned the first book (The Hunter/Point I can say I “knew” him, however, albeit not well enough that I’d expect him to have remembered me. Blank/Payback) as a stand-alone novel, not unlike his other early crime novels (The Mercenaries, KillI met him in the mid-’60s, right around the time I ing Time). Parker was the protagonist, but he was became his fan, although the two aren’t really cona criminal, and in the original version of the book, nected. he was caught at the end. I’ve known Henry Morrison since the early ’50s, But the editor at Pocket Books thought Parker when he was still the fan and prozine letterhack was too good a character to throw away at the end known as Henry Moskowitz, who lived in Three of only one book. He suggested a rewrite of the Bridges, New Jersey. Henry joined the Scott Merlast chapters to have Parker succeed and get away edith Literary Agency in the mid–’50s, and Scott at the end, and to be the protagonist of a series. thrust the Anglicized name, Morrison, on him, Thus was the memorable “Parker” series by “Richwhere — once he was professionally established under that name — it stuck. In 1964 Henry left Scott ard Stark” (a name Westlake had first used when he had two stories in the same issue of a mystery Meredith to set up his own agency, and asked me magazine) launched. That series even spun off a to become one of his clients, which I did. Henry second, lighter series about Grofield, an aspiring was my first (and best) agent.

n preparation for writing this piece I Googled “Donald Westlake.” I wanted to find a basic overview of his life and work, a list of his books. The last time I did something like this was ten years ago, when I was writing daily content for The Collecting Channel (RIP), each day a new article about someone or something. I’d do a search on it, print out the two or three best pieces, and write my piece from my own knowledge, augmented by my searches. I figured I’d do this piece the same way.

6 

  Total Chunga

They all agreed that marriage was a foolish institution and chastity

actor who supported himself with criminal activities, often as one of Parker’s sidekicks. I liked the brutal reality of the earliest Parker books most. They seemed to become tempered, and Parker (slightly) more human, as the series progressed. But the book which made me a fan of Westlake was The Fugitive Pigeon, which I read when it was first published in paperback, probably in 1966. It was a humorous crime novel. Westlake was far from the first to write humorous mystery or crime novels. Craig Rice, for one, had built a career on them. But most such books were on some level silly, with contrived plots, and two-dimensional characters taking what amounted to pratfalls. The protagonist might be a loveable drunk, given to forgetting crucial details at inconvenient times, which would of course set into motion a comedy of errors. Westlake didn’t do that. At the core, the plots of his comedies were serious realistic crime plots. The comedy arose from the fact that Westlake’s characters made mistakes in the way real people do. They were human. They supplied the character-driven comedy, but the plot was still realistic. So were the settings. When Westlake described a place or neighborhood, you had the feeling he’d actually been there. If you were familiar with a place he was using in one of his books, you rarely found any errors or inaccuracies of detail. I recall one of his books made use of a part of southern Staten Island which I myself had explored. It was “developed” in the ’20s before the Depression hit. Streets were laid out and put in. But nothing further was ever built. And gradually the wilderness closed in, dense overgrowth crowding the paved streets, fire hydrants sticking up in a dense thicket of bramble. Some of the streets could no longer be driven on, because of the dense overgrowth narrowing them to paths. I used to take my second wife, Robin, there on picnics. I thought I was the only one who knew about this forgotten part of Staten Island, but there it was, in a Westlake book (I forget which one) to my astonishment and delight. So typical of the man. This accurate sense of place was an enduring feature of all his works. So, as I say, The Fugitive Pigeon made me a real fan of Westlake. Nobody else had taken this realistic approach to humorous crime fiction, and it worked really well. From then on I began following his career closely, filling in the earlier crime novels as I went (I liked them, but not as much). I followed him as he launched other pseudonyms, like “Tucker Coe” (whose series novels about a disgraced and retired nyc cop inspired Block’s “Mathew Scudder” was a bad idea. From these books l learned the sin of lust.

series — which continues to this day). (The relationship between Block and Westlake deserves an exploration greater than I can provide. I knew Larry better than Don — I hung out with him — but I never talked to him much about Don. But the two had closely parallel careers, writing similar material for the same markets at the same time, and although Block quickly found his own voice, he was for years in Westlake’s shadow, following him along the same general direction as a crime/mystery writer. He too, for example, makes good use of actual locales. The two were for years buddies, and fellow poker players. And that must take us outside this parenthetical digression: ) Henry Morrison held regular, weekly poker games in the ’60s. I was never a participant, but both Westlake and Block were regulars. So were other agents, editors and publishers. At one such poker game (at which Westlake was not present), Henry got into a discussion with an editor at Signet to whom Henry pitched a complete joke: a takeoff on Airport to be called Comfort Station. Henry was kidding, but the editor took him seriously and wanted to buy it. After the game, Henry called Don and told him about it. “Can you write it?” he asked. Don could and did, under the name of “J. Morgan Cunningham.” I was living in Virginia in late 1970 when I chanced upon Comfort Station while browsing a paperback rack. I picked up the slim volume out of curiosity, read the blurbs and noted one which said, “I wish I had written this book! — Donald E.

Total Chunga 

 7

Westlake.” I read the first paragraph of the book and was convinced Westlake had written it. I bought it, brought it home, and quickly read it. The next time I talked to Henry, I asked him about it, and he confirmed its authorship and told me the story of the poker game. Looking at Westlake’s own official site, I see 44 crime novels under his own name, 23 under the “Richard Stark” name, 5 as “Tucker Coe,” and 4 as “Samuel Holt.” Plus a variety of other books and collections. In addition, he wrote dozens of pseudononymous soft-core porn novels for Scott

8 

  Total Chunga

Meredith (as did Block; both used them to develop as writers), and Wikipedia credits him with “over a hundred novels and non-fiction books.” There was one regrettable sf novel, too (as “Curt Clark”) … . In fact, the Authors and Creators site lists over two pages of published short stories, and one of the first is “Or Give Me Death” in the November, 1954 Universe, a short-lived sf magazine. And there are 14 more sf stories, some of them published in Analog, Galaxy and F&SF, the latter being apparently the last, in 1964. So he was published in sf magazines for a ten-year period before giving up on sf, rather memorably, with an article in Richard Lupoff’s Xero, denouncing the sf field. But if I read any of those sf stories, I’ve long forgotten them. I was aware of him as a minor presence in sf field in those days, his sf work significantly less memorable than that of his compatriot, Evan Hunter (or “Hunt Collins”). I could go on. I haven’t even mentioned his “Dortmunder” series, a long-running comedic crime series which features a sad-sack criminal. (What’s So Funny is the most recent Westlake book I’ve read — and since his death — and it’s a “Dortmunder” novel.) Nor some of his big stand-alone novels, like Dancing Aztecs, or Kahawa (which Westlake reissued in a revised, rewritten edition — I read and enjoyed both). And there’s Adios Scheherezade, Westlake’s 1970 fictional “memoir” of writing those soft-core porn novels for Meredith — both funny and viciously accurate, and no doubt written to flush the experience out of his system. And Humans, a 1992 dip into fantasy, but with the Westlake touch. Nor have I gone into the disappointments, of which the biggest is The Hook (2000), which is an accurate and scathing indictment of the current state of publishing (and of “mid-list” authors), but unquestionably weakly plotted and ultimately unbelievable as a crime novel. But I’m not trying to be encyclopedic here. This is not a comprehensive overview of Westlake or his works. It’s only a fanzine piece about the guy, after all. So what can I say in summation, then? Good question. I (kinda) knew the man. I’ve read almost all his books (and intend to find and read those I haven’t — mostly those “Parker” books published only in hardcover). But my Google search convinces me I’m far from unique in this. There are others who knew him much better. And others have written scholarly theses about him or his works. But I liked his work and admired him for it. Donald Westlake remains one of those writers whom I look up to and draw inspiration from. And I guess that will have to do.  

If you can’t get laughs with a man digging up a grave you’re not a comedy writer.

Two Ceremonies, One Red and One Blue by Lisa Freitag

he first ceremony started with a drum beat, deep and slow, coming from somewhere in the surrounding evening forest. It was a good drum, sounding like it had been handmade from an oak tree and bear skin, maybe, and just three beats were enough to silence everyone in the clearing. This was quite a feat, since the 400 or so Boy Scouts gathered in the Rum River Scout Camp outdoor amphitheater had not at any point during the weekend Camporee shown any inclination toward quiet, not even when holding up three fingers in the Boy Scout signal to keep your mouth shut and listen. The amphitheater, which had seemed huge in the light of day, was packed with boys and their parents. Part of the reason for the crowding was that the sixteen or so park-style wooden benches arranged on the little slope were kept empty. The seats were reserved for the new boys, who were about to cross over from Cub Scouts to become real Boy Scouts, in something called the Arrow of Light Ceremony. In front of the benches an astonishing amount of firewood lay ready. A Boy Scout is thrifty, but many of the trees in the park had been downed in recent storms, and there was plenty of wood. Presumably becoming a Boy Scout would require a very big fire. In another two drum beats, progressing down the path into the clearing, came the drummer, a teenager in fake Indian costume, followed by a solemn and silent line of new scouts. The new scouts were dressed in their full “Class A” Scout Uniform shirts, which by the second night of camping were pretty dirty. Under and over and around the tan uniforms, they wore pirate gear, since that was the theme of the weekend. It took a while to get them all seated, but the drum, hollow and resonant, held everyone silent through it and the ceremony that followed. It was a really good sound. The drum called from the surrounding woods more Indian-attired teenage boys, who pretended But don’t press your luck by asking for water. This is very important.

without the slightest bit of embarrassment to be the spirits of the Tiger, Wolf, Bear, and Lion. They all had Indian names, which I couldn’t quite hear, and suspect were based on no real American Indian culture. They each reminded the Cub Scouts of lessons supposedly learned, emphasized “fun” undoubtedly had, and gave them advice for the future. It wasn’t really “Today you become a man.” The theme of the Spirits was that the new boys now were admitted to a society intent on becoming men. They would with this ceremony truly become Boy Scouts. At some point the fires were lit, and they were indeed impressive. Then, one at a time, each boy’s name was called, with the number of the Den they had come from, and the Troop they were entering. As they filed past the enormous fire, they were given an arrow by one of the teenage boy Spirits. That boy lifted every arrow to the darkening sky, in a magnificent upswept gesture that seemed at once prayerful and triumphant, before handing it to its proud new owner. He did it at least fifty times, without losing its significance, while the drum beat on. After all the new boys had arrows, and the Spirits had vanished into the forest, and the drum had stopped, the same boys reappeared in pirate costume. To the music of Pirates of the Caribbean, on loudspeakers, they presented awards for the

Total Chunga 

 9

worked by at least three people) looked on in presumed contentment. But the people were interrupted by two little men on horse puppets, labeled “AIG” and “BOA,” who ruined everything. Even though the people changed their houses into giant credit cards, turning over the cardboard on which the houses were painted, the little men chased them away, claiming their houses, the grassy area on which the performance took place, and even the sun, for their own. They cast down the spirits too, while a voice read parts of a real treaty with the Sioux Nation of Indians drawn up in 1808, and giving large parts of the weekend’s pirate-themed competitions, and told bad St Croix and Mississippi river valleys to the United States of America for two thousand dollars. pirate jokes: After that, it got really random. There were mud What has eight arms, eight legs, and eight eyes? people who spent a long time communing with the Answer: Eight pirates. earth, a huge egg thing which was supposed to con The ten new boys in my son William’s troop all slept with their arrows close by, and went home the tain the Gift of the Tree of Life, obvious references next morning clutching them in dirt-covered hands. to creating a new green economy, and a number of pigs and spiders. The pigs were either a symWilliam still has his in his room from two years bol of the evils of banking or an example of being ago. We’ve been meaning to mount it, some day, in touch with the good dirt, or possibly both. The but can’t quite figure out how. spiders wove us all together. Or something. Anyway eventually they managed to do enough good he next day, I found myself sitting on to bring back the spirits of Sky, Plains, Water, and another grassy slope, this one quite a bit Trees, at which point the ceremony was back on larger and overlooking Minneapolis’ Powtrack. derhorn Lake, for the annual Heart of the Beast This is the part of the ceremony that is the same Mayday Ceremony. I’ve gone to Mayday every year since I found out about it somewhere around fifteen every year. Everyone’s attention turns to the lake, where boats holding the Sun have been hiding years ago. It’s a free-form, hippie sort of ceremony, behind a little island. The sun is a brightly painted not really Pagan, not even really religious, but the wire circle, about fifteen feet high, with a five foot, welcoming of the sun and raising of the Tree of yellow and red smiling puppet face at the center. It Life have taken on ritual significance for me over is carried on a platform between two canoes, with the years. room to spare for a pack of drummers as well as The crowd for Mayday was much larger, and rowers. Four other canoes flank it, all with dragon much more diverse. No attempt at uniforms here. figureheads and painted bright red. Everything is There were Pagans, and Morris Dancers, and gays, decked out in orange, red, and yellow banners. The and “people of color,” and even a guy in full pirate rowers and drummers all wear red. Even the padcostume. A wilderness group was giving free dles are beautiful. canoe rides on the lake, but these were not Boy Scouts. These were of the type who carry little pro- But the paddles are not very efficient, and it takes some time for the sun to cross the lake. The pane stoves into the wilderness instead of burning drums on the boats get louder as they approach. down whole forests to cook hot dogs, or make Boy They call from the crowd, not silence, but the chant Scouts. The ceremony was, as usual, kind of chaotic and “sun, sun, sun” as everyone strains with the rowers silly. It started with two people in Native American to bring the sun to shore. And eventually it does land, bringing forth the final miracle, the Tree of costume singing a chant. It was possibly no more Life. authentic than the Boy Scout Indian Spirits, but the singers were quite bad. A puppet of Pete Seeger The Tree of Life puppet must be thirty feet tall, a appeared in there somewhere. Then, with no appar- giant androgynous face with trees for hair, and two ent connection, smiling, happy people began buildmassive hands. Hands and face are on poles, hung ing a neighborhood, with houses painted on 4 by 8 with cloth for arms, and ribbons like a Maypole. It pieces of cardboard, while the spirits of Sky, Plains, is worked by a crew of about fifteen people, mostly Water, and Trees, four enormous puppets (each men, who carry it shrouded and silent to the cer-

10 

  Total Chunga

These low-status individuals live in the forest or under bridges, emerging

emony, and bring it onto the grassy stage in secret during the commotion of the sun’s crossing. Once raised, it takes all fifteen of them to turn it around once, then open and close its giant arms to bless the crowd. But that is what I come for, to receive the blessing of the Tree of Life. I have no idea why this is so important to me. It may actually be the only religion I have left. After that everyone dances around the Maypole — a riot of red rowers and mud people and pigs and spiders and whatever — while the crowd sings, badly, “You are My Sunshine.” Then the crowd breaks up to eat vegetarian fair food, or visit liberal political booths, or listen to ethnic rock bands, or just watch the weirdness while picnicking in the sun. I drove home, blessed by the Tree of Life. Oh, and the big egg, the Gift of the Tree of Life, was opened in there somewhere. It held a baby, which looked way too contented to have been inside the egg that whole time. Someone held the baby high in his arms while we all cheered and waved spring green pieces of cloth which had been passed out for that purpose. I still have mine.

hen I started out writing this, I thought I was going to point out the vast cultural divide between the two ceremonies. What an oddness to go from something as regimented and innately conservative as a Boy Scout ceremony to something liberal and free like Mayday. Certainly most of the other attendees, at either ceremony, would have scorned the other. The boys may not know what they mean when they pledge to be “morally straight,” but their parents hope they are using the new meaning of the word straight. Likewise, all the same sex couples holding hands at Mayday despise the Boy Scouts, possibly with good reason. But instead, I was struck by the similarities. Here are two disparate groups, both performing invented ceremonies on the same spring weekend. Neither invention is new. It was the thirty-fifth Mayday, and the Arrow of Light Ceremony followed a script provided by the Boy Scout Council that may be older than that. Both ceremonies have taken on aspects of religious ritual as they have been performed repeatedly. The Boy Scouts would probably deny any religious intent, as would the Heart of the Beast Puppet Theater, though for opposite reasons. The Scouts would think it irreverent. HoTB would be insulted to be considered religious. But both ceremonies touch something profound and sacred. Intentionally.

So we have white, conservative Boy Scouts from the suburbs and a diverse inner city alternative theater attempting to connect to something primal, perhaps something absent but needed. Both groups have invented animistic Spirits to somehow embody their principles. And though the Boy Scouts would call it American Indian and HoTB would use the PC term Native American, both groups borrowed shamelessly from the white man’s idea of Indian culture. Perhaps bad Indian metaphors increase the ceremony’s mysticism, or connectedness with the earth, or something. And both groups placed their ceremonies in a framework in which everyone attending could pretend, if they wanted, that it wasn’t meant to be serious. But I took both ceremonies to heart. I understand, I think, why the Mayday ceremony effects me so deeply. I suspect that others there also were disappointed by organized religion but still sometimes want something like worship. I need to celebrate the basic goodness of springtime. But why did the conservatives need to invent a ceremony? They get church every week, or so they claim. Doesn’t that fill all their spiritual needs? Well, maybe not. Christianity doesn’t really have a coming of age ceremony. The Arrow of Light Ceremony was effective for me because it managed to find meaning in William growing up and becoming an adult. Thinking about that always makes me cry. It’s a parenting thing. Like at weddings, spending time considering life as a whole is an overwhelming experience. The other parents there must have felt the same pride. But the boys were impressed too. There was something in the mystery and the silence and the really big fires. Or maybe it was just the drum. The Sun had drums too, come to think of it. 

only to get facial tattoos and genital piercings, or to pick up food stamps.

Total Chunga 

  11

by Steven H Silver efore there was Charles Chaplin, Buster Keaton, or Harold Lloyd, before even Roscoe Arbuckle, Ben Turpin stepped in front of the cameras at Essanay Studios in Chicago to help fill roles in the movies being made by Broncho Billy Anderson (the Ay in Essanay). Although Turpin’s goal was to conquer the new medium of film, his primary role at Essanay was to work as a janitor, shipping clerk, a property boy and scenery shifter, a “telephone girl” and scenario writer despite having a long career in Vaudeville behind him.

This is one of six profiles of silent film comedians. Other pieces will appear in other fanzines, includ­ ing The Drink Tank, Askance, and Plata. Near the end of the year, all six pieces, along with additional sidebars, will be collected and pub­ lished as a long article in Argentus. —SHS

12 

  Total Chunga

Born Bernard Turpin in New Orleans on September 19, 1869, Turpin moved to New York with his parents in 1876. When he was seventeen, his father informed him that he was planning on moving back to New Orleans, but that Ben should try his hand in Chicago, and gave Ben $100 in seed money. Turpin lost the money in a crap game in Jersey City and hopped a freightcar, living the life of a hobo and filling in the odd jobs with attempts to entertain people, specializing in pratfalls, tumbles, and tricks. According to Turpin, when he was thirty, a box fell on his head, permanently crossing his eyes, a condition he later claimed not only enhanced his comedic value, but which he also insured for $25,000. Shortly after Turpin married Carrie Le Mieux, he began working at Essanay from 1907 through 1910, making eighteen films before leaving the janitorial job and films behind. His first film, An Awful Skate, or The Hobo on Rollers, has the distinction of being Essanay’s first film. The idea for the film was obvious since Essanay’s original studio at 496 North Wells Street was also the home of the Richardson Roller Skate Company.

During that time, he scored a notable first in film history when he starred in 1909’s Mr. Flip. Playing a character who flirts with every woman he meets, he became the first actor to receive a pie in the face on screen. It wouldn’t be until 1914, when Mabel Normand threw a pie in Roscoe Arbuckle’s face in A Noise from the Deep that an actor would actually be seen to throw a pie in someone’s face. In 1909, Turpin commented, “I had many a good fall, and many a good bump, and I think I have broken about twenty barrels of dishes, upset stoves, and also broken up many sets of beautiful furniture, had my eyes blackened, both ankles sprained and many bruises, and I am still on the go.” In 1913, after a few years in the cinematic wilderness, Turpin was befriended by Wallace Beery and played support roles in several of Beery’s Sweedie movies, made for Essanay at their Niles, California studios. When Charles Chaplin came to Essanay, he befriended Turpin and made Turpin his second banana in a handful of films. The men had different views of comedy, however, with Turpin looking more for the quick slapstick laugh and Chaplin wanting to create more complex films. After a few films, the two separated, with Turpin moving to Vogue Studios before hooking up with Mack Sennett. Sennett, who is best known for the Keystone Kops films, was nothing if not subtle, and his films demonstrate that. Turpin’s own broad humor fit into Sennett’s concept of film quite well, and he was willing to appear in several films cast against

Mr Simon Simpkins believes the lime has a ‘particularly lurid’ expression on its face during its encounter with a

his physical type. In addition to the perennially crossed eyes, Turpin wore a small brush moustache and stood only 5'4", an inch shorter than Chaplin and Buster Keaton. Given his statue and odd appearance, Sennett cast Turpin in roles such as a Yukon prospector in Yukon Jake (1924), a role that both Chaplin (1925) and Keaton (1922) also found themselves in. Turpin’s biggest success came when Sennett cast him in parodies of other film stars, most notably in The Sheik of Araby (1923), in which Turpin parodied Rudolph Valentino. Turpin similarly parodied Douglas Fairbanks, Jr., Erich von Stroheim, William S. Hart, and more. In 1924, however, Turpin announced his retirement from films. His wife, who had lost her hearing in an accident several years earlier, suffered the first in a series of strokes and he decided to spend his time taking care of her. A series of shrewd investments allowed him the leisure to turn his back on films, as he had also become a real estate magnate in the Hollywood area. To further save money, for Turpin was quite frugal, he acted as the janitor in at least one of the apartment buildings he owned. Le Mieux had made 14 films, including eleven with her husband, but had been retired from acting since 1917. She died on October 1, 1925. A month after Carrie’s death, Turpin entered the hospital in Santa Barbara with acute appendicitis. While there, he met a nurse, Babette Dietz, and the two married in 1927, by which time Turpin had come out of retirement and rejoined Sennett. In 1928, however, Sennett liquidated his studios. Turpin signed a contract for ten shorts with Artclass, and also returned to the still thriving Vaudeville Circuit. Given Turpin’s broad physical comedy, the sound era was not particularly kind to him. He continued to appear in numerous shorts, such as Paramount’s Lighthouse Love with Mack Swain in 1932, where Turpin appears in only the final moments of the film. Although he continued making what were essentially cameos throughout the thirties, his career was mostly over and he was able to live on his real estate holdings. Turpin’s final role was in the Laurel and hardy film Saps at Sea in 1940, where he appears for a moment as the punchline of a joke. A month after Saps at Sea hit the theatres, Turpin suffered a minor stroke, followed by an heart attack a week later. He died in a Santa Monica hospital at 1:50 am on July 1, 1940. Between 1907 and 1940, he appeared in 230 films.  lemon and once again enjoys a similarly smutty experience with a willing pair of cherries on another package.

Total Chunga 

  13

One Small Steppe

by Andy Hooper Being a discussion of some archaic ethnicities featured in Michael Chabon’s novel of historical romance, Gentlemen of the Road, with some speculation on the true nature of the legendary Kingdom of the Khazars. ike most fans, I’ve probably spent about 1/3 of my waking life reading. I’ve always been a promiscuous reader, working on as many as a dozen books at once, doing everything in my power to keep from finishing everything simultaneously. The worst thing about the issues with my vision (see the previous issue) is that they kept me from reading actual books for at least 18 months. So it was a pretty big event for me to read a whole novel from beginning to end earlier this year, even if it was a relatively slight work of historical fantasy, and printed in a cooperatively robust typeface (Requiem, inspired by works published by Ludovico Valentino degli Arrighi in 1523). Originally serialized in The New Yorker, Gentlemen of the Road is Pulitzer and Hugo-winning author Michael Chabon’s first foray into heroic fantasy, and it is as perfectly conceived and realized as his other successful works, such as Kavalier and Klay and The Yiddish Policeman’s Union. In his afterword, Chabon asserts that the book emerged from a single summary phrase, “Jews with Swords,” and it is certainly true that his characters, major and supporting, are drawn from a rich tapestry of Dark Age Jewry. But the work is also an unmistakable homage to great masters of the genre, particularly the late Fritz Leiber. Chabon’s acerbic physician Zelikman and his massive Abyssinian companion Amram are worthy successors to Leiber’s Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser. They lack

14 

  Total Chunga

that pair’s access to supernatural forces, but may be blessed with an even keener talent for self-preservation. It can come as no surprise that the two survive the events of the book, and emerge only slightly sadder for the experience; the stage thus set for further adventures, it would be only fitting for the companions to return in Gentlemen Against Devilry, or something similar. Chabon also chose a suitably fantastic setting for his swordplay: the legendary early medieval kingdom of Khazaria, stretched across the steppes to the north of the Black and Caspian Seas. Between the 6th and 10th centuries, a group of Turkic-speaking people concentrated at the mouths of the Volga and Don Rivers controlled the modern states of Kazakstan and the Ukraine, and prosecuted wars as far away as Eastern Iran and the Danubian plain of Hungary. These people, known as the Khazars, have left relatively little trace of their presence, yet are the center of a rich tradition popularized in later centuries of the middle ages. Their most enduring legend, attested to by no less a luminary than St. Cyril of Thessalonika, is that they converted en masse to Judaism in order to avoid choosing between the two more dominant faiths of their age, Christianity and Islam. Chabon’s wanderers find themselves thoroughly

I find this deeply disturbing. There was no screaming, nobody was carrying weapons

enmeshed in questions of power and succession among the Khazars, and navigate a Shakespearean plotline of hidden identities, long-lost fathers and brothers, marauding usurpers and the memories of elephants. It’s a highly satisfying read, and over all too quickly. In the best tradition of Robert E. Howard and other masters of pulp adventure, Chabon populates his book with a Dark Age version of the League of Nations. In Chabon’s world, the vast Eurasian Steppe is crowded with people of a dozen different ethnic groups, all decorated with their colorful native adjectives. I find it irresistible to create a homespun Baedeker of their names and characteristics:

The Abyssinian: Apart from the memory of his kidnapped daughter, Amram is the sole representative of his people in the narrative. His life story is a road map of the Eastern Roman Empire: Recruited in what is now Ethiopia, his service with the Byzantine armies carried him across Egypt, Syria, Greece, Anatolia and Armenia. He carries an enormous battle-axe, with a particularly foul curse incised in Nordic runes along its haft, testimony to contact with the notorious Varangian guards of Constantinople. His Greek is excellent, but he and Zelikman routinely converse in Hebrew, and he seems to have some understanding of Arabic, Latin and Turkic, as well as his native Abyssinian language. He also appears to be a chess master, playing a medieval version known as Shatranj.

North of Persia, but some believe that they were Alan horsemen, from the steppes north of Caucasian Georgia. The Arsiyah were much more powerful politically than most European mercenaries, but again, this is something of a tradition in the Islamic world. Many dynasties began as ghulams, hereditary military slaves, who eventually replaced the kings who enthralled them. There were occasions when they refused the orders of either the Khagan or the Bek, and the book is probably inspired by the most famous of these insubordinations: The Arsiyah attacked a vast fleet of the Rus, whom the Khagan had guaranteed safe passage through the country. Something so provoked the Arsiyah that they destroyed the fleet and killed thousands of Rus.

The Azerbaijanis: In the 10th century, the modern state of Azerbaijan was known as the Kingdom of Arran. Once a satrap of the Persian Empire, it had embraced Christianity in the 3rd century ce, and been incompletely convered to Islam in the 700s. In Chabon’s book, Prince Filaq’s mother was a native

The Arabians: The people of the Islamic caliphate are represented largely through their material culture in Chabon’s tale; Damascene steel is a notable example. But some of the dispossessed Muslims that join Prince Filaq’s Brotherhood of the Elephant are surely ethnically arab immigrants whose ancestors followed in the wake of the Khazar–Caliphate wars of the 8th century. Arabian horses are also prominently represented; Zelikman’s mount, called Hillel, draws its lineage to the stable of the Prophet, and is a bona fide Wonder Horse.

The Arsiyah: Across the Islamic world, bodies of warriors dedicated themselves and their children to the service of a Caliph or other monarch. When this tradition was extended to the service of nonMuslims, western writers tend to refer to them as mercenaries, but their service was much more permanent than most warriors for hire. Cavalrymen in the service of the Khazar Khaganate called themselves al-Arsiyah, and probably embodied the permanent core of the country’s army. Most historians assume they came from Khwarizam, to the and everyone went home with the same number of digits that they came with.

Total Chunga 

  15

of Arran, and the companions tried to take him to safety among her family. But the man-hunters dispatched by the usurping Bek Bulan reached the country first, and killed Filaq’s remaining relatives. With nowhere else to go, Filaq chooses to return to the Khazar city of Itil to reclaim his family’s birthright.

tral Europe under the Carolingians. As an explicitly Christian state, the Frankish kingdom placed serious legal and economic limits on the citizenship of Jews, and these conditions helped inspire Zelikman’s wanderlust. Frankish Jews were forbidden to use or carry swords, therefore Zelikman does his fighting with a short,. stabbing weapon that he refers to as a “medical instrument.”

The Colchians: In Chabon’s version of Itil, the

Michael Chabon, Gentlemen of the Road, Ballantine, New York, 2007

guards of the Khagan’s palace are Colchians, separated by their language and ethnicity from the rest of Khazar society. This has long been the most seductive feature of taking foreign troops as personal guards — with no connections to the rest of society, they are particularly loyal to the aristocrats who hire them. Colchis was a kingdom of Western Georgia, centered on the eastern shore of the Black Sea. Greek colonies established around 600 bce eventually coalesced into a unified kingdom, which remained a distinct political entity until the 2nd Century ce. It was briefly part of the Pontic Empire of Mithradates the Great, but in general, its mountainous terrain served to guarantee its independence. Colchis joined a general uprising against Roman rule in 69 ce, which ended with permanent Roman garrisons in the country. These repulsed an invasion by Goths from Crimea in 253 ce, but by the 4th century, Colchis was incorporated into the Lazican Kingdom, an entity centered in modern Armenia.

The Franks: Zelikman is identified primarily as a “Frank” by the residents of Khazaria, while he would have been immediately singled out as a Jew by the Christian Franks of what is today Germany. They began as a confederation of tribes north and east of the Rhine river. From the late 6th century CE, they replaced the waning Roman Empire under what eventually became the Merovingian dynasty, then came to dominate much of Western and Cen-

16 

  Total Chunga

The Khazars: In the 7th century ce, innumerable families and clans of Turkic-speaking people roamed across the steppes between the Black Sea and China. They became a dominant ethnic group after the decline of the Huns and other “Barbarian” peoples of late antiquity. Some of these formed a powerful confederation along the shores of the Caspian Sea and the estuary of the Volga river. There the Khazars built a society with two complimentary halves, one composed of pastoral herdsmen, who dispersed into the countryside during grazing seasons, and another sedentary, partially urbanized half, composed of fishermen, farmers, traders and craftsmen. The tradition of a dual monarchy may therefore reflect the dual nature of Khazar society. But the legend that the Khagan of the Khazars lived like the Wizard of Oz in a secret tower on an isolated island is another fantasy from the later middle ages. Archeological evidence for the Judaism of the Khazars remains elusive, and it seems likely that at least some Khazars remained practitioners of the traditional Shamanistic religion of the Turks. But there can be little doubt of the Khazar’s military and economic impact on the other powers of Western Asia and Asia Minor. For four centuries, the Khazars resisted invasions by the armies of the Arab Caliphate, the Bulgars, Slavs, and Norse, and they were part of the Byzantine coalition that brought down a Persian Dynasty and recovered the True Cross. Writers from these states tended to agree that Khazaria was a Jewish kingdom, but it is a troubling detail that we have virtually no written material originating from such an ostensibly learned society. We do have a series of coins typically attributed to the Khazars. Minted in imitation of the silver direm of the Islamic Umayyad caliphate, the Khazar yarmaq often featured the legend “Moses is the Prophet of God” in rather poorly-executed Arabic letters. A large cache of these coins were discovered in 1999 — in central Sweden! The Khazars were supplanted by the first dynasty of the Kievan Rus sometime in the 10th century. The Khazar capitol at Itil was sacked by Kiev’s Prince Sviatoslav I in 965 ce. But since the Rus adopted the Khazar style of dual monarchy with

Sample Khazars, 8th–9th century ce By the time it was over, medics had administered government-run health care to at least five

the Turkic titles of Khagan and Bek, many other elements of the old Khazar state were probably preserved as well. The Magyar people dated their history from a westward migration to escape the domination of the Khazars; whatever their religion, the Khazars were clearly a people to be reckoned with.

The Parthians: When Zelikman and Amram first meet the fugitive prince of Khazaria, he is accompanied and protected by an old Parthian elephant trainer, whose injured face bears a perpetual sneer. The word “Parthia” was a Roman corruption of “Persia,” and was distinctly archaic by the 9th century ce. The “Parthian” (or “Arsacid”) Empire was replaced by the Sassanid Dynasty of Persia in 226 ce; this was in turn defeated by the Islamic conquest of the 8th century ce. “Parthia” probably remained a colloquial term for Northern Iran, particularly among Latin speakers. Amram’s horse, apparently an immensely strong animal, is referred to as “The Parthian.”

The Radhanites: A fraternity of medieval Jewish merchants, the Radhan were a critical link between the Christian and Arab economies during the Dark Ages, and their decline, which roughly corresponded to the fall of the Khazar Khaganate, may have been the “real” reason behind the Crusades. Masters of four well-documented trade routes that linked China and France, they were specialists in light-weight, highly valuable commodities like spices, jewelry, perfumes and silk. When Christian and Islamic leaders routinely closed their borders to one another’s tradesmen, the Jewish Radhan were often trusted to act as brokers. The skill and sagacity of the Radhanites was documented in detail by a civil servant of the Abbasid Caliphate in 870 ce. Abu l-Qasim Ubaid Allah ibn Khordadbeh was both the postmaster and director of spies for the province of Jibal, located in the West of modern Iraq. In his work The Book of Roads and Kingdoms, Khordadbeh wrote,

the capitol of the Khazars. They embark on the Jorjan Sea, arrive at Balkh, betake themselves across the Oxus, and continue their journey toward Yurt, Toghuzghuz, and from there to China. With the rise of the Caliphates in the 8th century, the southern routes passing through Egypt and Persia became less appealing to the Radhan, and their contacts among the Khazars probably grew even more important. Their expeditions were also an important source of communication for Jewish communities of the early middle ages. To Zelikman, an encounter with the Radhan is infinitely more significant than a meeting with a hundred other Frankish wanderers, and the fact that they are known to his father in Regensberg, makes their meeting as close to a family reunion as he is likely to experience. There are several theories on the origin of the word “Radhan.” Some scholars maintain that it refers to a region between the rivers of Mesopotamia, while most think it combines two Persian words meaning “one who knows the way.”

The Rus: In the 9th century, the people who lived in modern Belarus, Russia and the Ukraine, were collectively known as “The Rus.” They gave their name to the modern nations of Russia and Ruthenia, and are considered direct ancestors of contemporary Russians. But there has been lengthy debate on whether they were invaders or immigrants from Scandanavia, or Slavs who had adopted a few Swedish and Danish mercenaries. The chronicles of

This is the point, to me, where art and fandom coin­cide. Every work of art is one half of a secret handshake, a challenge that seeks the pass­word, a heliograph flashed from a tower win­ dow, an act of hopeless optimism in the service of bottomless longing. Every great record or novel or comic book convenes the first meeting of a fan club whose membership stands forever at one but which maintains chapters in every city — in every cranium — in the world. Art, like fandom, asserts the possibility of fellowship in a world built entirely from the materials of solitude. The novelist, the cartoonist, the songwriter, knows that the gesture is doomed from the beginning but makes it anyway, flashes his or her bit of mirror, not on the chance that the signal will be seen or understood but as if such a chance existed. — Michael Chabon, Manhood For Amateurs

These merchants speak Arabic, Persian, Roman, the Frank, Spanish and Slav languages. They travel from East to West and West to East, partly on land, partly on sea. They transport from the West eunuchs, female slaves, brocade, castor, marten and other furs and swords. On their return from China, they carry back musk, camphor, aloes, cinnamon and other products of the Eastern countries … . Sometimes, they also take the route behind Rome and, passing through the country of the Slavs, they arrive at Khamlidj, people in the crowd who were stricken as they denounced government-run health care.

Total Chunga 

  17

the Kievan Rus record that a group of transplanted Vikings known as “Varangians” were “invited” to settle within the borders of the kingdom, so there is no doubt that there was some Scandanavian influence on the early Kingdom of Kiev. But most scholars now agree that their cultural influence was fleeting, and within a few generations, they had disappeared completely into the native Slavic culture. But in the 10th century, they still assembled large raiding and trading expeditions, and still favored the bright red shirts mentioned in Gentlemen of the Road. The Khazar Bek ’s callous decision to permit the Rus to raid his Caspian settlements may seem inexplicable to the modern reader, but the Vikings had to have a place to sell the things they carried off, and the capitol city of the Khazars was probably their first port of call. The Bek night argue that the Rus were acting as his tax collectors, and use their depredations as a convenient means to limit the power of political or dynastic rivals. Or he might observe that the Rus were bound to attack someone, and he preferred to keep them away from his palace and personal lands. Or perhaps the Bek was simply too close to his own marauding roots to sympathize with of his own city-dwelling subjects. The hawk and the wolf, after all, are also God’s creatures.

The Slavs: Although none of the named characters in Gentlemen of the Road are explicitly identified as Slavs, they anonymously populate every battlefield, caravanserai, and street scene in the book. Like the Goths, they developed their culture in Northeastern Europe, and were pushed south by the Huns and other tribes expanding Westward in the 5th and 6th centuries ce. But unlike the Goths, or Huns, or Magyars, the early Slavs did not have a charismatic leader to unite them, or sophisticated enemies in the later Roman Empire to document their activities. There was no “Slavic Kingdom” — although many residents of the early Kingdom of Kiev were obviously ethnically Slavic. Their journey into modern Europe came quietly, and without famous battles to mark their progress.

18 

  Total Chunga

The etymology of the word “Slav” is a subject of debate. It may have referred to one of several rivers in modern Poland and Belarus, but also may have referred to adherents of particular religious practices that focused on ritual cleansing or baptism. A civilization centered around the Dneiper river, known as the “Globular Amphorae” culture, was established as early as the 3rd Millennium bce, and may be the progenitors of both the Slavic and Germanic ethnic groups. Overall, it appears that Slavic people have been in Modern Russia and Eastern Europe for more than 4,000 years. So many of these people were placed in bondage during the Dark ages that the word “slave” came to generically refer to anyone held as property by someone else. By the time represented in the novel, many had adopted Orthodox Christian practice, but were still handicapped by the lack of a written component to the Slavic language, still relying on Greek and Latin to communicate with the rest of the world. The Cyrillic alphabet, devised by Saints Cyril and Methodus of Thessalonica, was adopted by the court of the First Bulgarian Empire in the 8th century ce, and quickly diffused across Eastern Europe from there. Given that the Khazar khaganate depended on the use and trade of slave labor for its economic survival, the advancing sophistication and independence of Slav culture pointed to the inevitable end of the Khazar empire. Some of their cities and fortresses may have continued unsacked, up to the Millennium and beyond. But that unique combination of Turkic, Islamic, Viking, Byzantine and Jewish culture that flourished on the Caspian shore was lost. 1,000 years later, they still stand out as a particularly bright strand in the fabric of history, a setting as wild as any from the mind of a pulp adventure writer. The possibility that all of it — the Bek and the Khagan, the Radhanite traders and the Viking raiders, were all the invention of later medieval chroniclers, only serves to make them all the more tantalizing to us. Did men from Ethiopia read books from Timbuctou on the shore of the Caspian Sea, in the shade of fanciful silk hats woven in the heart of China? I passionately hope so.  No one but you calls him the “Akron Hammer.”

Let Us Review by Randy Byers

Maybe some fanzines really are crap, and a waste of your time to read; well, then they’ve also been a waste of someone’s time and money to produce, at least as far as you’re concerned, which seems like vengeance enough for a first offence. — Claire Brialey, “A Matter of Opinion,” QuasiQuote #3

andra Bond has been on a roll lately. QuasiQuote used to come out at the rate of one issue every three years, but all of a sudden we’ve seen three issues in one year. When I asked her about it at Corflu Zed, she said she’s taken a year off from work to do things she wants to do, and one of the things she wants to do is pub her ish. own. It does seem like an old school style, and it That’s a very welcome development indeed, and reminds me of rich brown in some ways (the faan it’s particularly nice to see Sandra stretching her fiction and fanhistory) and Francis Towner Laney editorial wings and making her voice heard in a in others (the pugnaciousness and love of lampoonway that only the publication one’s own fanzine ing). Perhaps Sandra was merely saying that Arnie can enable. She is one of the most knowledgeable has so completely mastered the classic fannish style figures in fandom, but my sense is that she has that it becomes the “transparent” standard, like the yet to step forward and make an imprint with her own fanzines that is equal to this knowledge. (This Mid-Atlantic accent on American TV. In any event, the review prompted a response is probably ignorance on my part, because I’m from Arnie in VFW #113 in a piece called “Why I a relative new-comer to the scene and still ignoDon’t Review Fanzines.” Arnie’s basic point seems rant of large chunks of fanzine history even as to be that he doesn’t personally review fanzines recent as the ‘80s and ‘90s. Still, I’m operating on because he is not innately lovable and would thus the assumption that saying something wrong will provoke unnecessary animosity with his reviews. provoke discussion. I’m aware of at least one other Underlying this claim appears to be a feeling that wrong statement in this first paragraph already. I he couldn’t express himself honestly without causguess I’ll claim it’s a joke.) ing offense to friends. His hurt feelings at Sandra’s By way of making an imprint, Sandra has mancomment is raised as an example of being on the aged to provoke a small controversy with a review receiving end of this. He addresses many interestof Arnie Katz’s VFW by saying of Arnie that he is ing issues involved in reviewing fanzines, including “in one sense the default voice of ‘Core Fandom’ in the idea that since fanzines are a hobby and not a that his voice is utterly undistinctive.” She goes on career, perhaps it’s not fair to review them in the to buttress this odd claim with some fairly subjective analysis of Arnie’s prose style. I’m not sure how way a commercial property would be reviewed, and the related idea that the producers of fanzines are you would objectively analyze the distinctiveness not public personae the way that professional writof a prose style, but in looking at Arnie’s style you ers and artists are, therefore critiquing them is “a might talk about the penchant for faan fiction, a little like barging into someone’s home and evaluattendency toward making fanhistorical and best-of ing the living room décor.” (Which would definitely lists, an analytical approach to theories of fandom, be the downfall of many a fannish housekeeper!) The a pugnacious Us-vs-Them quality (perhaps this is final and most interesting point that Arnie raises, where his interest in wrasslin’ comes in?), and a how­ever, is that in the fanzine community “we are so love of lampooning fannish foibles, including his Montanans don’t post this type of misinformation on the internet, we post pictures of things we kill.

QuasiQuote is available for the usual from Sandra Bond, 40 Cleveland Park Avenue, London E17 7BS, United Kingdom. PDF versions are at efanzines. com/Quasiquote. Arnie Katz has discontinued VFW, but back issues are available at efanzines.com/VFW. A few back issues of Apparatchik are still available in HTML editions at efanzines.com/ Apparatchik. The Zine Dump is available in DOC format from Guy Lillian at [email protected]. A few back issues are available at www.challzine. net. Send him your zine; he’d love to review it: 8700 Millicent Way #1501, Shreveport LA 71115.

Total Chunga 

  19

closely connected to each other that it’s very hard to separate a fanzine from the reviewer’s personal relationship with the editor and his contributors.”

ll of these things point to the reason

1

Which is no doubt also why early on Guy’s reviews of Chunga invariably called us in-groupish — i.e., not part of his group. This may be why Jim de Liscard’s reviews for Attitude generated so much hostility, at least according to comments Pam Wells made at a panel about fanzine reviews at the 2003 Eastercon. He was writing as an outsider who did not know the people whose fanzine he was reviewing, and he was resented for it.

2

Another model for this are Mark and Claire, who typically weave their fanzine reviews into editorial discussions of the hot fannish topics of the day.

20 

  Total Chunga

why fanzine reviews are different from book reviews or movie reviews to my mind. Fanzine reviews are part of a community discussion in which fanzines are one forum. Now, Arnie does argue that it’s legitimate to critique the quality of fanzines, and no doubt it’s helpful for neos to get pointers on how to properly edit a letter column or the reasons for two-column layout or even how to construct a logical argument in a piece of writing. But since fanzines are part of the fannish conversation, to my mind the most useful thing a fanzine review can do is to talk about where the fanzine in question fits into the conversation and what perspective it brings to it. That’s why I used to enjoy Andy’s Fanzine Countdown column in Apparatchik so much. As Sandra puts it in the intro to the reviews that got her into trouble with Arnie, “One of the (many) good points about Apparatchik as was, was the habit its editors had of devoting a page to recent fanzines every issue come rain or shine.” Now it’s true that Andy ranked the fanzines he reviewed and relegated others to the equivalent of the We Also Heard From bin. In the reviews themselves, however, he largely stuck to talking about what each fanzine was trying to do and where it fit into the larger fannish discourse. As a newbie in the fanzine world at the time, I found it enormously educational as a window on the broad and complex world of fanzines. (How different the landscape seems these days!) When I was talking to Claire Brialey and Mark Plummer about this at Corflu Zed, Claire remarked that as a newbie fan editor she found Andy to be one of the few reviewers who actually made the effort to understand what they were trying to do, rather than imposing a judgment of what they should be doing. In the current fanzine world, one of my favor-

ite fanzines is Guy Lillian’s The Zine Dump, which takes the same approach as Fanzine Countdown by surveying as much of the field as possible. It’s a pleasure just to see what all is going on in the various nooks and crannies of fandom, many of which are otherwise invisible to me. On that latter score, it must be confessed that one reason I probably prefer The Zine Dump to Guy’s higher-profile, Hugonominated Challenger is that I’m more likely to find egoboo in it for me and for my friends. This is a reflection of the fact that Guy and I run in slightly different social circles within fandom, and he’s more likely to pay attention to my circle of friends when he’s reviewing the fanzines that they produce, while the people he publishes in Challenger are people I don’t tend to know very well and who don’t know me either.1 This in no way means that The Zine Dump is a better fanzine than Challenger. Quite the opposite, Challenger is clearly a greater labor of love and bursts at the seams with the productivity of a lot of talented people with deep roots in fandom. (I mean, was that a Kelly Fricking Freas cover on #30?!! I turned Freas-green with envy when I saw that.) What it does mean, however, is that egoboo is the coin of the realm, and we’re all interested, I think, in where we fit in the picture. That’s what we’re looking for in fanzines, and that’s what we’re looking for in fanzine reviews. If we’re not getting egoboo ourselves, we want to know where this fits within our fannish landscape.2 So in response to Sandra’s request for feedback on whether she should continue her reviews, I say hell yes. Not for thumbs up or thumbs down, but for a view of the field and the ongoing discussion. Give us the knowledge. Give us more conversations with the spirit of Vince Clarke. Where does his ghost fit into today’s landscape? You’re one of the people who can tie what’s going on in fanzines now to the discussions in the past. We’re standing on the shoulders of publishing jiants. What do you see? (Yes, yes, I know, a bunch of first-rate secondrate writers. But other than that!)  Brandy, like Rum and Tequila, is an agricultural spirit.

Fanzine Reviewing — further thoughts Abi Frost in Stomach Pump #6, July/September 1984:

S

teve Green, on the other hand, explicitly rejects the Great Tradition while apparently working in one of its characteristic modes: fanzine reviews. Paul Kincaid has demolished this particular column and its successor in To Craunch The Marmoset; actually, I have rather mixed feelings about them. Where I know the fanzine under review, I can generally see what Green means; and at times, as in his review of Gross Encounters 11, he displays an almost KTFish sharpness of tone and command of hyperbolic imagery. What these reviews don’t give me, and apparently were not intended to, is any sense of the fine shading of fandom. There’s no acknowledgment that, to take extreme examples, there’s any difference in intention, articulation, position within the culture, between Still It Moves and Rude Bitch. Green prefers to summarise content and play little who’s in what group games. Contrary to what is often asserted, I think it is possible to do rather more than this in a brief listings format; I remember Rob Jackson’s Matrix column, much maligned at the time, but actually very useful to me as a neo wanting to know who to trade with. Jackson, with no more space per fanzine than Green allows himself here, gave me an idea of what particular fanzines were like. Jackson was a conscientious reviewer, trying to give a brief overview of the scene, informed by whatever his own theory of fanzine fandom was. I think Green has a theory — he has some idea of what he’s doing editing fanzines and why he does it — but he deliberately does not use it in writing these fanzine reviews. If put on the spot, he would no doubt plead innocence; only KTFers have a theory, you see. The (here unstated) purpose of these reviews is to boost the Brum renaissance. Well, yawns young Leah, who the hell cares anyway”? We can’t all be D. West, thank God. I reply that an understanding of what one is actually doing in contributing to the making of works of art — which may be most imperfectly articulated — is essential to artistic success. This is why the great theorists of fandom — Pickersgill, West, and lately Anne Warren — are important. One develops one’s own personal theory — or at least, one may if one chooses —  by reading these people, comparing their perception of the world with one’s own, balancing, modifying. It is a continuing process, not a matter of discovering Final Truth. This is why one must put up with sexist behaviour, ego-flattening psychological quizzes, or losing the odd round of double-orquits. This is the quid pro quo. Green thinks (or says he thinks) he can do better then (say) Pickersgill or Nicholas by ignoring the analytical tradition which informs their work. He implicitly claims to be seeing fanzines as a harmless hobby-game, a matter of scoring brownie points here and there, not a question of creating and developing a medium for works of art. The extent to which his reviews are successful is the extent to which he is deceiving either the reader or himself.

Claire Brialey in QuasiQuote #3, August 2000:

I

found something I identified with in Vince Clarke’s writing. When Vince returned to fandom in the early 1980s and started publishing Not Science Fantasy News, he inevitably focused on the differences between the fandom he had left and the fandom he found. One of the changes he thought most significant was the style, tone and even the purpose of fanzine reviewing. Vince was appalled by KTF reviewing and commented in October 1982: To me a fanzine is a semi-public letter to friends, a sharing of thoughts and a chance to exhibit the talents of friends which one thinks deserve an appreciative audience. It’s an extension of the ego on paper, communicating with people I’d rather talk to faceto-face. … I would take it for granted that one keeps the quality of communication as high as possible … You just do what you can, and if your efforts are not so good as those of other folk—so what? We’re not competing in a professional rat-race or even in an amateur talent contest. He picked up the same theme later in the same issue: Why take it so seriously? Why go to all the trouble of printing searching, soul-searing, I’m-only-doing-it-for-your-own-good type criticisms? … If someone wants to put out a ’zine … it’s his money, his time, his work. You don’t have to read it, subscribe to it, exchange with it. I have a lot of sympathy with Vince’s views, but they stirred up a lot of discussion at the time (the two excerpts here come from responses to letters from Simon Ounsley and Dave Langford, for instance) and I want to make it clear that I’m not asking instead for “the cloying niceness and illiterate tweeness” which Dave mentioned in his letter then. Sandra herself states in QQ 2 that, “I do review fanzines, and I do have the temerity to say when one isn’t good, and even — heresy! — to suggest ways in which their editors might improve future issues.” In a review, I want positive recommendations, pointers to the sort of thing I might enjoy; if anyone seriously wants to offer constructive criticism or really feels a burning need to express their opinions about how crap a fanzine is, I feel that both responses are Thanks to Claire, Mark Plummer, more usefully directed straight to and Dave Langford for research the editor.  assistance.

You’d be hard-pressed to find a store that stocks chicken embryos or thermoses full of blood, anyway!

Total Chunga 

  21

ye iron Yvonne Rousseau

Yvonne Rousseau PO Box 3086 Rundle Mall SA 5000 Australia Ken Forman hollyhockhouse@   gmail.com

22 

  Total Chunga

Thank you for a cheering-up (shadows consuming the whole world — sinister zither music) Chunga 15! I don’t know the theme music for Apostrophe Man, but he performs his good works with such stealth that it’s almost (in Adelaide and Melbourne, at least) as if he were a figment of the imagination. Very best wishes for a New Year far more festive than pundits consider likely.

Ken Forman John Nielson Hall doesn’t like “those cute lines in the footers”? Carl juarez sez that some might be “an invitation to Googling fun.” Gee, I always thought Googling fun was something one sought when playing the Googling Game. The goal of the game is to google two words and find one, and only one resulting webpage. My best result so far is for the words “humahumakukukii” and “plasticize.” I’m afraid the caption for Jay Kinney and Dan Steffan’s cartoon for “If You Meet a Trufan…” article has become the mantra for our bowling team. Ben Wilson and I (and our other two, non-fannish teammates) took the league championship last year. However, this year’s season isn’t shaping up to be as successful. We’ve been holding in fourth place for weeks. Whenever one of us comments on a

missed shot, the response is likely to be, “Does this look infected to you?” Croggled, I tell you. I was croggled when I read Taral Wayne’s “On the Face of It.” To think of a 16th century forged coin just blows my mind. To imagine the forged coin’s “life” fills me with a sensawonder that I usually reserve for fandom. On top of that, to think that there are coin dealers out there (well, at least one) who recognized the coin from viewing a photograph of the original. I mean, goshwow. When I read Andy Hooper’s “At the Canyons of Corflu,” I was struck with a loss of comments. Not that the article didn’t have lots of literary hooks. Rather, I either was at the same event that Andy describes, or I’ve been to the same place he’s visited. Certainly his descriptions were far more elegant than even my memory of the events and places. That’s what I’ve always loved about him. His use of the language is astonishing. It made me wish I could have him narrate or describe other dealings I may experience, just to have his wit and intelligent turn of phrase heighten that same said experience. Just think of it, Andy could offer his services to others who may be deficient (as I am) in putting life’s little wonders into such imaginative and florid words. We could call it Hooperisation. Something as simple as going through a local fastfood drivethrough for a burger and fries would be elevated to ecclesiastical ecstasy. “With the appropriate amount of trepidation, we perambulated to the gaping portal. Our requisite recompense carefully and thoughtfully surrendered, we waited — stomachs rumbling in anticipation — for the gastronomical treasures soon to be presented.” Seriously, though, breaking the article into disjointed, non-sequential pieces gave it the flavor of a Quentin Tarantino offering. I kept expecting him to end up wearing gym shorts and dancing the twist at Jackrabbit Slim’s. (Oh, and by the way. Andy, those bugs were water striders (Gerris remigis).)

This finding is in need of replication. Until then, including empathy in the clinical encounter has little

onne Pig Chris Garcia

Andy sez: Ken, your hyperbole will shortly be put to the test. Look for future titles such as The Belvedere Oasis: Gateway to Schaumburg and Britain’s Best Slag Heaps and Sloughs. I share your fascination with the phenomenon of counterfeiting In the relatively distant past. The fact that people In China were meticulously recreating T’ang dynasty bronzes and ceramics during the Sung dynasty circa 950 ce is another delightfully precocious approach to material culture. Of course, in the case of coinage, the supposed weight and composition of the piece was theoretically the source of its value, and the issue of whose face was on the face was much less significant in the ancient world than it is today. The piece that Taral found was significant because it had been created with actual collectibility in mind, which is much different than trying to pass off a slug as a denarius in order to buy a jar of wine. Still, I suspect that’s the piece I want, the fugazi from the reign of Diocletian, not one merely 550 years old. Brad Foster Hmmm, the good news is that W is on his way out at last. The bad news, as just revealed by our local news as I was typing this, is that his new home in Texas will be only a few miles away from me. Property values are sure to plunge! Secret service agents behind every garbage can! Fighting to keep from having to make eye contact when we are both in line at 3am at the nearby 7–11 with our condoms and Red Bull purchases!

Andy sez: Fugitives from responsibility have been fleeing to Texas for nearly 200 years now, so I’m confident that you and your neighbors will be able to re-absorb W without extraordinary friction. Try to look at the bright side; his Presidential Library will be the first in history with a significant collection of Cracked magazine in its inventory.

I would love nothing more than to talk Superman all afternoon. I mean, he’s Superman, America’s only real cultural invention. Yes, he’s got all the markings of Hebrew tradition in there, but really, what’s more American than Superman? We view ourselves in the light of Superman. None of us are as fast, strong, able, empowered as Superman, but we all see a bit of ourselves in him. His good is universal and he is willing to help all with little consideration for his own benefit. He has a secret identity that he must maintain, hiding away his abilities as many would argue Americans are encouraged to do when they are truly exceptional. (See The Incredibles for an excellent version of that.) He’s also, with the possible exception of Batman, the loneliest superhero. He’s untouchable and has to maintain two lives without even the comfort of his home planet. He has no connection to his traditions, that’s certainly true, and what is America but a land where folks have thrown off centuries of tradition to make their way into a Bold New World? One thing that I’m glad to see show up is mention of the Jewish Strongmen of the late 1800 and early 1900s. The Mighty Atom was probably as famous as Breidbart was in his heyday. The idea of the Polish strong man continued for decades, including Polish Power Ivan Putski, the legendary wrestler and strongman, and many of the top contenders in the World’s Strongest Man competition. The concept of the Russian Strongman is also equally as important, as it’s more likely that the Superman team

potential for harm and has positive influences that extend beyond the medical consultation.

Brad Foster [email protected] Chris Garcia garcia@   computerhistory.org

Total Chunga 

  23

Mike Glicksohn [email protected] Jerry Kaufman 3522 NE 123rd St. Seattle WA 98125 [email protected]

knew of names like Georg Hackenschmidt and The Great Sandow than anyone else. By the way, Stu’s art with the piece is awesome as well. I was sad to hear of Jack Speer’s death. I always enjoyed getting to chat with him. Yet another of that so important generation is gone. It hurts not only us now, but it means that there are yet fewer voices that can attach to the minds of the future. I hate the passage of time.

Andy sez: Superheroism is by definition a lonely avocation; to possess abilities beyond those of other people is to become separated from them. Alan Moore’s brilliant Watchmen covered this from several perspectives, none of which made it seem like a very attractive lifestyle. The genius of Superman’s character is his passionate wish to understand and share the experience of the human residents of the Earth. In part, this is because he was denied the experience of belonging by the destruction of Krypton. But he also bears a genuine love for mankind, feels real love and gratitude for the Kents, and has a genuine desire to be Lois Lane’s romantic partner, yet never comes off as an alien pervert trying to breed with an unsuspecting Earth girl. He’s trustworthy, admirable and humane, in a way a real human being could probably never be, No wonder we still find him fascinating after more than 75 years. Mike Glicksohn A brief coda to Dan Steffan’s musings on the 1973 re-issue of The Neofan’s Guide, a tale I knew the ending of 35 years ago but have only just learned the beginning. (Yes, I’m way behind in my limited fanzine reading but as far as I know I can’t be extradited for that.) Shortly before Torcon 2 I was approached by a panicky committee member: there was a problem with the plan to print up something like a thousand copies of the Neofan’s Guide. They didn’t have a cover and could I come up with something last week? (At the time I was still publishing fanzines so had the wherewithal to do that.) I used LetraSet for the title and rummaged through my large box of fannish artwork. I was lucky enough to find a Rotsler cartoon that actually mentioned neofans so I glued it down and — voila! — instant cover. And that reprint was indeed available at the convention. But I know I’ve seen Dan’s covers somewhere so either they were just printed in a fanzine somewhere or a later edition of the Guide chose to use them. Perhaps Dan can enlighten me? One other thing: Teresa mentions Jerry Jacks,

24 

  Total Chunga

one of the kindest and nicest people I’ve known. I loved Jerry and I think he loved me despite the fact that I steadfastly declined his many offers to introduce me to the joys of gay sex. When Jerry threw fandom’s first generally-advertised gay party at the LA worldcon, he invited me to attend. I didn’t get there as there were other parties I had more interest in but at about 3 am the next morning while moving between parties I met Jerry in an elevator. I asked him how the party was going. He looked indignant and said “There are people running around naked in my room I wouldn’t talk to fully clothed in San Francisco!” I’ve always thought that was a line that ought to be preserved. By the way, #15 is a fabulously good-looking issue and the contents are none too shabby.

Andy sez: Dan’s artwork has often taken a long and winding road to publication, and often appears with less than ideal duplication, which must be vexing. I seem to have specialized in putting great fan art on dark paper that washes out the detail, You can find a nice, if lowresolution, reproduction of Dan’s cover art for Chunga #6 at his Wikipedia entry. Jerry Kaufman Randy’s sidebar about Jack Speer led me to double­ check which Legislative District we’re in. Too bad —  Jack never represented our district — we’re in #46. I enjoyed this issue and I’m glad you’re continuing to publish amusing, intriguing, well-written, well-illustrated, nicely laid-out material. And keep running the bottom-of-the-page linos. I found Taral’s article on the counterfeit sestertius interesting for three reasons. One is that I’m fascinated by archaeology. Two is that, for a short time in the 1970s, while I was living in New York, I made a stab at collecting ancient coins. Unfortunately, my small collection was stolen in a burglary, and I stopped collecting. Three is that I find fakes and hoaxes very interesting, and I like reading about forgers, counterfeiters, and scammers. So Taral hit several of my interests, and did so entertainingly. Curt Phillips mentions that Abel Gance’s Napoleon has “some amazing camera work.” Having seen it myself, I thought I’d add that the thing was shot with multiple cameras so that some scenes could be projected onto multiple screens. As I recall, some scenes are thus given wide-screen effects before wide-screen projectors existed, while other scenes show multiple viewpoints. The print I saw was also colored differently in different scenes to give the effect of day or night — something other silent films, shot in black and white, did.

It’s a veritable masterpiece of breathtakingly casual deceit, and I stop short

Andy sez: I’ve found coin collecting to be the most fun when undertaken very casually — I have just a few later Roman pieces that are hardly worth $5 each, but that means they are hardly worth stealing. At the risk of making this a numismatics fanzine, you must write back and mention some favorites from the collection you lost. Fandom has a way of aiding and abetting one’s collecting habits with surprising generosity. Steve Jeffery There’s something odd about that Iron Pig photo from Dave Langford. The Pig looks a lot sharper and clearer than the Dogs of Welcome (“Cry Greetings and let loose the dogs of Welcome!”) behind it, unless they have become shrouded in a sudden and very local mist. In ‘Excerpts from the Fannish Protocols’, Teresa Nielsen Hayden identifies the practice of publishing the address of letter writers as one of the enablers that let sf fandom develop in the way it did. The same topic was discussed in a panel at Novacon 38, in attempting to answer the question ‘what would fandom look like now if there hadn’t been a sf fandom?’. I’m not sure the question was ever satisfactorily answered other than comparison with other, more commercially orientated or derived fandoms (Trek, gaming, comics), but it was acknowledged that the policy of openly printing writers’ addresses in the letter columns made it possible for fans to get in touch, organise and get involved in projects outside the orbit or control of any specific magazine, and that was a key point in allowing fandom to both develop as a loose collective enterprise and to go off at any number of tangents. Had it been tied to, and dependant for contact on, a specific parent magazine or organization, it might have been more coherent and focused, but — as Teresa suggests — less robust in its ability to adapt to and still encompass changes and differences in members’ interests. Not that it’s entirely avoided arguments by splitting off those differences into side channels and sub fandoms, but at a certain point, fairly early on, fandom had become too amorphous and ‘stretchable’ to come apart completely at the seams.

stood. So how could fandom arise in a world of modern communications that fandom helped to inspire? You can imagine a new fandom arising without reference to the old, and they may come to invent similar patterns of communication that have a similar social impact. But the path to wider acceptance and social relevance will be easier for them because sf and comic book and monster movie geeks have already illustrated the possibilities of the fan/pro paradigm. And Fandom’s use of postal correspondence, a technology available for centuries, to speculate on communication satellites, data networks and magnetic media just has to make one smile, doesn’t it? Earl Kemp I really liked Chunga 15, that arrived yesterday. What a great production job; must have cost a fortune and sure looks like it. That Torchwood West cover by Alison Scott is really something, as is carl’s backcover, very reminiscent of what’s going on these days around the more expensive Mexican tourist resorts. Might even be a glimpse at tomorrow in the usa, thanks to Bush’s deep Depression. I particularly enjoyed Andy’s Corflu-related desert and vacation report. I was there, along the trail with the rest of the gang and Andy described it with both eyes wide open. I’ll never forget my own first glimpses at the places Andy and Carrie visited and it was a good re-view reading about those areas again. Loved the description of Meteor Crater and Grand Canyon. Sorry they missed out on a detour by Kingman. I wonder if Andy is old enough to remember the old B&W tv series Route 66? A buddy series about two guys in a Corvette cruising to nowhere and finding adventures each week in a different spot along the highway. That one of those buddies turned out to be a raging gay and the other an uptight pig did nothing to diminish the popularity of the series. There have also been a couple of real-

Steve Jeffery 44 White Way Kidlington Oxon OX5 2XA UK Earl Kemp [email protected]

Andy sez: One can hardly imagine the Novacon panel could have provided a satisfactory answer to a question that was asked so clumsily. Proposing that the world of the 20th century develop without sf fandom in it is an increasingly enormous step into alternate history. The effect of fandom on sf and sf on the world is becoming more apparent and better underof calling it a work of true genius only because I regularly inspect food labels.

Total Chunga 

  25

ly dreadful movies made about Route 66, notably one to avoid at all costs named Roadhouse 66. Don’t know how you can afford all that color in 15. You’re running direct competition with my online ezine that’s there just to show off all the color images I can cram into each issue. Chunga continues to be an example very difficult to emulate. Carl does an incredible job making each issue look so spectacular. I hate you. David Langford [email protected] Eric Mayer [email protected]

26 

  Total Chunga

Andy sez: I was too young to watch Route 66 when it was first broadcast from 1960 to 1964, but saw many episodes in syndication perhaps 30 years ago. It was one of the very few shows of that era or any other filmed entirely on locations scattered around the US (and twice in Canada). The program’s producer Sterling Silliphant and location manager Sam Manners scouted likely locations on road trips of their own, then Silliphant wrote scripts suited to the sites they chose. The show was a close analog of The Fugitive or The Incredible Hulk, a dramatic anthology with a wandering protagonist. Whatever one makes of George Maharis’ later travails, the show was MUCH stronger when he was part of it. The odd thing about the show, I think, is that only perhaps 6 episodes took place at locations anywhere near Route 66. The show’s title was evidently inspired in significant part by Bobby Troup’s jazzy pop song “(Get your kicks on) Route 66,” but because CBS didn’t want to pay royalties for the song, they commissioned Nelson Riddle to write the instrumental theme song, which was an enormous hit. Most people’s favorite character was the Corvette convertible that Tod and Buz drove across the country. The car was replaced with a new model every season, without comment. The first one was powder

blue, but that reflected too much light, and was replaced with a Fawn Beige model. Maharis stated in a 1986 interview that everyone remembered the car as being red, which is the sort of thing we are trying to avoid by including so much color in Chunga. David Langford Many thanks indeed for Chunga 15 and the supreme egoboo of seeing my Iron Pig photo printed on glossy card in colour. Gosh wow! The cunning Photoshop enhancement is very effective. Have you thought of trying this on D. West’s cartoons? For the last couple of years, Hazel has been a regularly published photographer — in Interzone. The current editor, Andy Cox, decided he wanted my “Ansible Link” news-digest column to be illustrated with a new photograph each issue. However, he graciously allows Hazel to retain her amateur status by not paying her. I think the experiment is shortly to be discontinued, doubtless to the readers’ relief, but I’ve been archiving the pictures at ansible.co.uk/photos-iz.html . . . 

carl sez: Thanks for the compliment, though I should point out it’s much easier to enhance what’s already there. On the other hand, I doubt there are many who would say that relict West’s work is suffering for a lack of digital interference. Eric Mayer Andy Hooper’s report grabbed my attention and held it, which is a testament to his writing. In addition, I enjoyed his accounts of the walking tours — rather different from the con fare I usually see written up. I would far prefer strolling up a creek than debating the future of Core Fandom on a panel, albeit in the latter case I would definitely be up the creek. I was reminded that I have often thought that orienteering would make the perfect faanish sport. After all, it involves navigating through the woods — well, actually, parks with some woods, not real wilderness (thank God) — by using incredibly detailed maps. All fans love maps, don’t they? And though some athletic types race through the trees in impressive fashion, most of us just walk slowly. It is a little like trekking through a post-apocalyptic novel. In his article, Randy mentions perszines which I had thought weren’t around any more. But then I confine myself to electronic zines and I’m not sure that a blog or a LiveJournal or even participating in a private list doesn’t accomplish everything perszines did, and more. Perhaps there is simply no

Processor will push the status of the flags to the stack, and will then attempt

lisher could be the wrong sort, not imbued with the reason to put out an elecronic perszine, when other proper attitude for admittance. available electronic formats do the same thing better. Anyway, from a pragmatic viewpoint — to iden I can’t resist commenting on Randy’s words tify what fandom actually is, to attract new particiabout the term “core fandom.” (Probably I should pants, to affirm fandom’s penchant for timebindbecause my explanation of what I think about it is ing — the term “fanzine fandom” strikes me as far bound to be a lot longer than his mention.) I don’t superior to “core fandom.” Except perhaps for keeplike the term. In my opinion, it’s ugly, unnecessary, ing out the riff-raff who might try to weasel in by and uselessly obscure. I hesitate to say that because publishing what they call a fanzine. it might be taken as a slap at Arnie. But really, I like Arnie, I just don’t like this particular term of Andy sez: Like so many of Arnie Katz’s unified his. field theories of fandom, the Core Fandom con When I got involved with fandom in the early ceit is perfectly designed to explain and detail seventies the term I remember hearing most often his personal experience and that of his close was “fanzine fandom” and that’s the one I’ve used social peers. If there is some validity to the for the most part. Well, in reality I probably mostly idea, it is simply to identify people who underjust refer to “fandom” but I consider that to be stand the murky origins of fandom’s traditions, short-hand for the longer name, used in contexts and continue to observe them today. Fanzine where it is unnecessary to employ the full name. Fandom is bigger and younger than Core FanWhen talking in a loccol we know what “fandom” dom, with hundreds of readers, bloggers and we’re referring to, but I don’t see it as the actual correspondents all carrying on discussions that name for our hobby/society/way-of-life/whatever we used to conduct on paper, and occasionally because there are loads of fandoms in the world. still do. But whatever word a person decides Fanzine fandom seems to me a perfectly service- will describe their peer group for the day, we define our own core of fandom with our mailable name. Doesn’t the history of fandom more or ing list. Or our “favorite sites” directory, whatless start with the publication of the first fanzines ever and whomever you spend your time readin the thirties? Sure, our fandom has expanded to ing. include more than fanzines, but fanzines are still an important part. What’s wrong with maintainMike Meara ing a name that identifies and honors our origins? I should think timebinders would have no trouble Another envelope with a Croydon postmark: what with a name that binds the past and present. can it be? Not another BW yet awhile — besides, Another thing I like about the term fanzine they’ve gone A5. Inside, I find a thing of beauty, fandom is that it gives interested outsiders a clear with fine layout, colour inside and out, covers so indication of what one has to do to get involved, to stiff and glossy... Only the staples (two, misaligned) join the group, to become a member of the “club.” give away the fact that it’s a fanzine. Publish a fanzine. As far as I can tell, those who So, many thanks for Chunga, a fanzine I’d heard support the idea of core fandom put a lot of weight about and was hoping to get hold of. I’m not sure on core fans having an appreciation of fandom’s where the Bananas come in, though; are they some history and values, and what better way to attain kind of UK delivery agent? If so, I can’t find a credit such an appreciation than to actually publish a fan- for them. And did you ask them to send us a copy, zine? or did they do it from spares, on their own initia This does presuppose that putting out a fanzine tive, because they are saintly folk who take good makes the publisher a part of fandom, whatever care of prodigals like Pat and me? Do tell. I wasn’t our name for it. But in the case of core fandom, sure where this loc should go, but to do otherwise I’m not so sure that this is true. Whenever I see than send it to all three of you seemed rude. core fandom discussed a lot of reference is made I confess I don’t really care for Arnie’s Core Fanto things like sense of community and shared attidom concept; it seems hierarchical, and therefore tudes and faanish states of mind, and not so much elitist. Randy’s notion of overlapping circles with no to plain old, easy to point to, activities. I sometimes focus fits much better with how I see fandom, or at get the impression (and obviously, from reactions least, how I would like fandom to be: a level playI’ve seen here and there in fanzines, I’m not alone) ing field suitable for a society of equals. I dislike that someone could publish a fanzine but not be “trufan” and “smof” and their like for the same reaconsidered a member of core fandom because it son; they sound elitist whether or not they’re meant was the wrong sort of fanzine, not what a core to be. I also like Randy’s idea that teenagers might fandomite would call a fanzine, or maybe the pubkeep their personal writings on paper, where they to kill all humans. The immediate operand and ALU contents are ignored.

Mike Meara 61 Stoney Lane
 Spondon
Derby DE21 7QH
UK meara810@   btinternet.com

Total Chunga 

  27

Joseph Nicholas [email protected]

Chillingly A book note by John Hertz, from Vanamonde 856 I obeyed the ordinary instinct of civilised and moral man, who, erring though he be, still generally prefers the right course in those cases where it is obviously against his inclinations, his interests, and his safety to elect the wrong one. Edward Bulwer-Lytton (1st Baron Lytton), The Coming Race ch. 21 (1871; D. Seed ed. 2005 p. 99) This satire, under the guise of finding underground a grand, mighty, ancient civilization, scarifies the love of power, the equation of truth and beauty, the sexes, progressivism and conservatism, science, sympathy, and maturity. It was kept in print by people who supposed it a gratifying presentation of metaphysics. The author, lulling countryman readers by clothing the narrator in an overseas caricature of the United States, and letting his lavish descriptions sound in more of the same, may have so masked his instrument 

28 

  Total Chunga

can better control access, rather than using the internet (which is much simpler, cheaper, quicker, more efficient for this kind of material) where their parents might see it. Of course, we older ones, who do use the net in this way, might have a problem if our children see it... Nah, who cares? Not me, anyway — don’t have any. Almost all the rest of my comments relate to the letter column, and a good one it is too. First up, Jay Kinney, there is no such thing as a weird topping for pizza. I really believe you can make anything work. Okay, anything savoury. Custard might be tricky. Or Christmas pudding. One of the best we ever had was a fusion pizza that Pat dreamed up years back out of leftovers; it used char siu (Chinese roast pork) and other things I can’t remember now. I can remember that it was superb, though. We’ve tried to recreate it since, with no success. Ned collects old typewriters — we’ve seen some of ’em, when we stayed with him briefly during our one and only trip to the States in 1977 — and I collect old pcs. Not deliberately, they just accumulate. Anyone want an Atari 400 — you remember, the one with the membrane keyboard and huge 16K memory (upgraded by me at enormous expense to a whopping 32K) — or an Amstrad 6128, with its own disk drive (floppy, non-standard size)? Seriously, they’re yours for the collecting. Maybe they even still work. I approve of your little footer lines — used to use ’em myself in one of my fanzines, except they were headers and mostly stolen from Hyphen, whereas yours seem to be originals. I don’t understand most of yours, I confess, but I did like the Atlas Shrugged one; I’ve been there myself, usually with one of Heinlein’s later tomes. That’s about it. Great ish, really enjoyed it. It has a slightly edgy feel, as though there could be absolutely anything between the covers, and I like that. Please keep sending it, and if you would pass the word around that I’m in the market for fanzines (paper preferred, I’m just an old fashioned girl) I’d appreciate that.

Andy sez: Our mailing list has endured involuntary transmogrification since our last issue, so I honestly don’t know why you suddenly began receiving Chunga, Mike, but your LoC ensures that you will continue to do so. A fine example to others, I should say. Our linos arrive through mysterious pathways, but I think they tend to carry some fossil meaning, as opposed to the pure texture of dada. It may be hard to remember why we wrote them down, but we take it as enough that we did. Everyone in fandom says they are an indi-

vidualist, that they hate elitism and hierarchies. Yet we go on voting and presenting awards, praising and celebrating guests of honor and fanthologizing one another’s work. I think we enjoy having bnfs and Publishing Jiants and Stalwart Letterhacks to lionize, and naturally praise the most creative and prolific among us. But we are also perpetually touchy about divisions within fandom, and resent any effort to exclude anyone from anything. I would just point out that if you are in a position to even read the words Core Fandom somewhere, the odds are very good that you are part of it. Joseph Nicholas The front cover reminds me — well, it’s only a few days ago, so it’s not really a memory — that we were recently in Cardiff, and went down to the Bay area to have a look at the Torchwood headquarters. Only they wouldn’t let me in. The bastards. We were in Cardiff for the Archaeology Festival 2009 (a weekend of lectures and presentations organised through Current Archaeology magazine), and went down a few days beforehand so that we would have time to look at the Museum, the castle, etc.. Including, one evening, the Bay area and Plass Roald Dahl, where I was able to show Judith the very stone slab on which Captain Jack et al stand as they descend into their secret headquarters. And a rather worn old slab it is too, which might be why — had you noticed? — the second series seems to have discreetly sidelined this rather implausible and unsafe elevator entrance, which is utterly lacking in the railings necessary to prevent one tumbling to one’s death in the pterodactyl-haunted gloom below (hmm, the second series seems to have sidelined the pterodactyl, too) after what would have been an undoubtedly convivial evening in one of the many bar-restaurants in the Bay area. (We ate and drank at the Cafe Rouge, a Frenchthemed establishment with what would have been a magnificent vista of the marina if it hadn’t been dark at the time.) … none of which has anything to do with the actual contents of Chunga 15. But on a visit to the Roman sites at Caerleon and Caerwent, organised as part of the Archaeology Festival, I spotted in one of the streets of the former, opposite the entrance to the covered site of the excavated part of the Legionary Fortress’s Baths, a pink house sporting a blue plaque stating that it was the birthplace of Arthur Machen — the selfsame Arthur Machen referred to by Ned Brooks. I attach a couple of photographs as proof.

It taught me that violent and threatening patients were considered normal

Andy sez: Those Torchwood people have a surprisingly poor sense of humor. I suggested that I might retain the borrowed body and wardrobe which Alison Scott arranged for me to use in the cover photo, just for the span of a single weekend, and they threatened to put my brain in a jar like Richard Nixon. Lloyd Penney

arbiter, and I’m enjoying myself.

Andy sez: Fans tend to have a galaxy of interests, or perhaps they are simply interested in everything. It seems to be a matter of perspective whether we are polymaths or perpetually distracted. My experience with wargaming and other alternate fandoms is sometimes frustrating, as they seldom have as fully-realized a series of traditions, particularly as regards to pubbing their ish. So I remain rooted in fanzine fandom, where my diffusion of interests is considered acceptable if not inevitable.

Sinister zither … those words go together so well. Throw in a theremin, and evil, sinister music will truly set the tone. Or is that just movie nostalgia talking? John Purcell The essays by Teresa and Lenny just prove what we all know, that any activity will morph over time, Y’know, it warms the cockles of my heart (whatever and fandom is no different. We all have different the heck those are) to see Randy endorsing my zine, interests, and we all move in different directions. describing it as a “shit-raking pdfzine.” And, we will have at least some influence on those around us. We are so diverse in the things we’ve done, and we should take a little pride in our span of influence in sca, mystery fandom, and assorted World conventions for Horror, Mystery and Fantasy, not to mention our own Worldcon, just to name some. I’m as deep into fanzines as I can handle, but I have had other interests in fandom. I’ve chaired a few conventions, been in a concom for 25+ years, and competed in a few Worldcon masquerades. There’s fun to be had, and while I know where fandom’s roots lie, its branches have spread everywhere. In the anarchy of fandom, you should be able to do what you want and when you want, and have the fun where you find it. Some of what I’ve done would be considered unfannish by some and fannish by others. In the long run, I am the final in mental health. Also that people actually read the words in the Sun.

Lloyd Penney 1706-24 Eva Rd. Etobicoke, ON CANADA M9C 2B2 LPenney@   globeandmail.com John Purcell [email protected]

 that it was not felt, even with such sharp reminders as I quote; he in his time with thirty novels and twenty books of poetry and plays ranked high — who coined “forcing a square peg into a round hole,” and “the pen is mightier than the sword”  — today disparaged, here offers us a speculative story where we had better take neither the first nor yet the second thought which may present itself, where the only true love is spurned, and the Earth is not all that is hollow. [“peg”, Kenelm Chillingly Bk. II ch. XXI (1873); “pen”, Richelieu Act II sc. ii (1839) — JH]

Total Chunga 

  29

Shelby Vick shelvy20012000@   yahoo.com D. West 16 Rockville Drive Embsay Skipton North Yorks BD23 6NX United Kingdom

A higher compliment I cannot imagine. Thank you so much, Randy. I honestly cannot imagine anybody else saying anything more supportive of my efforts than that. Not only that, but that same article got me to thinking about this thing called “Metafandom.” Taking the term “meta” in its literal sense — and the sidebar on page 23 is most helpful here — fandom definitely follows this pattern by reflecting on its history, commenting on its very existence, even postulating as to its own direction. Much like the term “meta-cognition” meaning “thinking about thinking,” Metafandom very much is “thinking about fandom,” which many of us indeed do. For a hobby interest group to be so in tune with its past/present/future is quite unique, and is probably a main reason why so many of us long-time fans hang around. It is actually fun and interesting to learn about What Has Gone Before because it teaches us about what has made us into the fandom and fans we are today. Claire Brialey gets into this in the latest Banana Wings (#36) in her musings about how we recreate our fannish personas. I don’t know about that, but I do know that my fanac has been definitely influenced by Past Masters — Tucker, Speer, Laney, Warner, Wollheim, Bloch, Moskowitz, Hoffman, et al — for which I shall be eternally grateful. Of course, my immediate influences were the floundering fathers of Minn-stf, guys like Fred Haskell, Jim Young, Chuck Holst, David Emerson, Frank Stodolka, Don Blyly, Scott Imes, Ken Fletcher, Nate Bucklin, and the others. Ever since 1973, my fannish career has been a pale imitation of Crazy Minneapolis Fandom, and to a certain extent I believe that I measure my success in fandom based on their cumulative example. Of course, you could say that one can’t get any better than that, which is saying a lot.

LoC … while I still haven’t completed my LoC on Trap Door’s magnificent return issue. Oh well. . . . I like your interlineations at the page bottom. Your reaction to your eye troubles astounds me. For years, glaucoma has been slowly stealing my sight and I hightail it to my eye doctor when any major change occurs in my sight. Now, mebbe you were familiar enuf with your situation that you knew you had the time. Or mebbe it was just youthful optimism. Yeah, ‘youthful’! I’m eighty, and most of you are young sprouts to me. Stu Shiffman’s Superman piece was wellresearched and a pleasure, as was Taral Wayne’s report on antique coins. (It never occurred to me that even a counterfeit could be of some value, if it was old enuf.)

Andy sez: I know that the intended audience for my fanwriting includes people that are no longer living. I feel like writing as if they were still able to read my output is a sideways method of preserving their aesthetic view of fandom after their demise. Call it a fannish manifestation of Ancestor Worship.

Firstly, I suppose the addition of colour is a theoretical plus, but is it really worth it? Alison Scott’s front cover was neatly done but didn’t mean much (presumably due to my ignorance of cultural or tv references) and would have been no worse in black and white. Likewise three out of four of the photos in Hooper’s piece. In fact, the only really effective use of colour was the Juarez back cover, though this would have been much improved by more generous margins, particularly at top and bottom. I’m sceptical about the claims for fannish influence in ‘Excerpts from the Fannish Protocols’. Isn’t it possible (and rather likely) that any similarity between fan practices and the practices of nonfan groups is just the independent application of common sense to the solving of similar problems?

Shelby Vick How dare you use a pterodactyl on the cover!?! Don’t you realize that’s an endangered species??? I wish all fanzines were irregular, so I could finish a LoC before the next issue came out! . . .But no, that wouldn’t be fair to the rest of fandom. For instance, I have the latest Trap Door sitting quietly on my desk, waiting for me to complete my

30 

  Total Chunga

Andy sez: We seem to have settled into something approaching an annual pace, although as I write this, we have already begun speculating on what issue #17 might be like. So your window might only be like six months wide this time, ShelVy. I did my best to stay calm in the face of that eye hemorrhage in Las Vegas, but we did get into a doctor’s office as soon as it was really feasible to do so. At the time, my doctors had presented little option for mitigating the effects of a hemorrhage until it stopped on its own. But the excellent effect of subsequent injections of Avastin (the steroid for pirates) has convinced me that I should go to an emergency room if I have another such event. Happily, my eyes have been very stable since that event, and I’m now able to read books and newspapers, and even paint a few miniatures. D. West

I’m sure that, knowing that dozens of people watch his food, Phil’s gotten a bit

Looked at objectively, there’s nothing very special about what fans do: we just organise things in ways that best suit our tastes and purposes. This is straightforward pragmatism, not divine inspiration, and it seems rather egocentric to claim that nonfans couldn’t devise similar systems on their own. Even more egocentric, of course, is the claim that one’s own particular subset of fandom is the centre of the fannish universe. True, everyone has an inclination to feel that their own personal interests and group have a special importance, but that’s a long way from saying that ‘real fandom’ means one sharply defined orthodoxy and nothing else. I prefer the Byers formulation: ‘Fandom is a set of overlapping circles with no centre … sometimes the circles just bounce off each other without overlapping at all.’ Quite so. I consider myself a fanzine fan — but this is a purely descriptive and value-free term which simply means that my main interest in fandom is centred on fanzines. I might make the occasional satirical remark, but my attitude to non-fanzine fans is not hostility but indifference. Unless and until we share the same ground there’s no reason to pay any attention to each other. The attempted promotions of tags such as ‘Core Fandom’ (or the earlier ‘Trufandom’, for that matter) is either embarrassing or offensive, depending on how seriously one takes it. This is prescriptive, not descriptive, and is really nothing better than an attempt to establish an Us-and-Them division between Aristocrats and Lesser Breeds. (With the prescribers as the Aristocrats, of course.) It’s a bad idea because fundamentally it’s snobbery: a system in which judgment is made not on the basis of an individual’s merits but on the label which has been attached. (Core Fan Good — Non-Core Fan Bad. Well-behaved applicants will be patronised and condescended to for a probationary period before final gracious acceptance into the Cosmic Circle.) Well like so much in fandom these topics do have a certain morbid fascination, but in the end

We also heard from:

it all seems rather silly. If fandom isn’t an anarchy, then it’ll do until one comes along. Fuck Core Fandom. Core or not-Core, everybody’s free to carry on doing exactly as they please. All it takes is a little nerve.

Andy sez: I think we felt pretty strongly that the color in issue #15 was worth the expense. Of course, color is about 15% cheaper than colour, so we saved some money there. Black and white photos of the Grand Canyon would have been a lot less satisfying, and I was grateful that Randy was willing to approve the expense. As you suggest by referring to earlier semanto-elitist movements like Trufandom, the impulse to somehow summarize one’s concept of fandom is both difficult to resist and doomed to failure. I’m seriously challenged to think of some subject in which you and I have a shared interest, but you continue to faithfully reply and contribute to our efforts, so you are surely on the mailing list for life. In fact, I promise to keep sending fanzines to your address for at least two years after you die, just in case you are faking again. 

Alexis Gilliland A Xerox copy of a cartoon is enclosed. Lee rejected this particular cartoon as insufficiently cleaned up, and I finally had to touch the original up and rescan it before I was satisfied. Like any artist’s tool, a lot depends on how Photoshop is used. Ron Drummond The REAL sekrit, revealed at last! Krax Magazine Taral Wayne’s coin recalls those that were produced as replicas and given away free in cereal packets around 1976 in this country. (I still have a couple somewhere.) If separated from their assorted holders they could be mistaken for the real thing nowadays after 33 years of dust! Eric Lindsay I guess I would manage a lot better with imaginary movies if I had seen more real movies. As is, I don’t know which movies are real, and which exist only in imagination. Gary Mattingly I also found the brief notes about Jack Speer very interesting. Robert Lichtman certainly has a lot of information about a lot of fans. He obviously needs to write a book on the topic. Henry Welch Hazel Ashworth My sympathies re Andy’s eyes too. Rather sorry not coming to Corflu. Hope it all goes off well.

theatrical. He eats web 2.0 food now. His food has a social-software element.

Total Chunga 

  31

Pine Street, Seattle, 2014

as portrayed in the Cosmograph, 1914 http://www.wlbooks.com/cgi-bin/wlb455.cgi/47558