Quasiquote #9
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“9” Just when you thought it was safe to go back in the gene pool, up pops a shark, with Henry Winkler chasing after it on a motorbike. Three full years after issue eight, QUASIQUOTE 9 makes its bow in April 2012. All the usual things apply: its editor is Sandra Bond, 40 Cleveland Park Avenue, London E17 7BS; it is available by editorial fiat, except if delivered by car, when it comes in the editorial Saab; monetary subscriptions and stamps are unnecessary but accepted at a push; contributors and correspondents are encouraged to e-mail [email protected]; insurgence against fwa and fwuk is likewise encouraged; an apple a day keeps the doctor away. contents FRONT COVER: Dan Steffan p3: HEAVY IN THE AIR: Andy Porter p5: A TISSUE: Tim C. Marion p6: HOTEL PREVIA: Rob Jackson p15: EASTERCON 1978 ART PORTFOLIO p20: THE EXPLORATION OF LOGICAL PARADOXES: Robert Sheckley interviewed by Leroy Kettle p31: THE MISSED OPPORTUNITIES OF ERIC FRANK RUSSELL: Peter Weston p33: ISH MAIL: letter column p39: WATCH OUT FOR STOBOR: editorial and closing thoughts BACK COVER: D West INTERIOR ART this issue: p2, p5, Steve Stiles: p3, p33, p35,p39, William Rotsler: p14, John Toon; p32, Marc Schirmeister. HEAVY IN THE AIR by Andy Porter Last night, January 8th 2011, I was doing my usual tossing and turning while I tried to get to sleep, my mind racing in its usual rapidfire way, refusing to calm down. A gunman in Arizona shot politician Gabrielle Giffords; as well as critically wounding her, he killed six bystanders. One of the dead was Christina Green, granddaughter of baseball pro Dallas Green. She was nine years old, and had been born on September 11th 2001. Why does 9/11 still resonate with me, far more than it does for so many others? Maybe it's because the World Trade Center is about a mile and a half from where I live. I always hated the buildings for being so ugly, but I never thought someone would try to destroy them. On top of that, when Waldemar Kumming was staying with me the week after the 2001 worldcon, somehow the WTC towers were always there. They were in the background when we went to the top of the Empire State Building, and when we took the Staten Island Ferry. And on the taxi ride to Penn Station, the driver went around the tip of Manhattan and right up West Street, right next to the WTC. And then, less than a week later – On that fateful day, the stench of the burning buildings was heavy in the air. Not only on that day, either; it stayed there for another four months, for this neighbourhood is downwind, usually, from the WTC. I might describe it as a combination of burning plastic and dog urine. So on those beautiful fall days, when the air seemed crystal clear to the eye, everyone here had to shut their windows and turn on their air conditioners, because of the Stench. It was so bad for so long that I ended up escaping at the end of the year to Lyme Regis and London, just to get away. That day, burnt chips of paint and papers were literally raining from the sky, and thousands of people covered in grey soot walked over the Brooklyn Bridge into my neighbourhood, en route home, because the subways were shut down. People here were trying their best to wash the detritus off. It was all too reminiscent of that scene in the remake of "War of the Worlds" where Tom Cruise is trying to shake off the dust of the people vaporized by the Martian death ray. My local fire station on Middagh Street lost several trucks and a dozen firemen there. They were one of the closest fire stations , so off they went, across the Brooklyn Bridge, to their doom. There's still a giant mural painted on the doors, showing the WTC. I see it every time I walk on the block, which is every few days. (http://tinyurl.com/4fm9eyv) And even now, when a plane flies over on the way to land at LaGuardia, I still look up, unconsciously. Is it flying the right height? Too fast? Too low? ...nope, it's okay. Nothing to worry about. I remember during the 2002 worldcon, when the convention centre was on the flight path in to the San Jose Airport, and all the New Yorkers were ducking when those planes came in -- too low, too low! -- while no one else cared. Weird NYers. Ha ha. But I was honestly terrified. And in October 2001, when I went to the World Fantasy Convention in Montreal, with the lobby bars shut down in the Delta Centreville because so many conventions had cancelled out, there, a block away, stood the Montreal World Trade Centre. Every time there's some sort of TV program on 9/11, I can't watch. My eyes fill with tears. The memories are still too close to me, bringing everything back. And now, of course, the new Freedom Tower is being built. I can see the top, with the construction cranes, every day, when I go down to the Promenade to take a walk. You can see it from the ground up from the Fulton Ferry landing. It's already about 50 stories high. So that's why the death of 9-year-old Christina Green resonated for me. Born on 9/11, a life so full of promise, so precocious, cut down on a second fateful day which has traumatized so many other people. A TISSUE by Tim C. Marion My friend David was over again the other day. At one point, he asked me for napkins and so I dutifully handed him my small bucket of napkins. These are the napkins given away by restaurants and from deliveries which I frugally save rather than merely dispose of. He looked at the tiny blue bucket with disdain, but then proceeded to loudly and gustatorially expectorate into several napkins, which he then disposed of in my trash. Later, I needed to blow my nose, so I pulled out my box of tissues and did so. David immediately stood up and started pointing at me, shouting, "Ooo! Ooo! Ooo!" Thinking this was some sort of primitive tribal greeting (not that I suspect David of being a primitive tribesman, but you never know...), immediately reciprocated in what I hoped was perceived as a friendly manner and repeated "Ooo! Ooo! Ooo!" But then David supplied an explanation. "I thought you didn't have those!" he exclaimed. Understand, I had completely forgotten about David's eccentricity regarding toilet paper, tissue paper, napkins and his confusion with all three. "You asked for napkins," I responded dryly. Later he took the tissue box and removed the clear plastic film that holds the upright, topmost tissue in place, so that when you pull it, the next one comes out. "I just removed that bothersome plastic piece so you can reach in and get the tissues more easily!" he proudly chirped. So now, whenever I want a tissue, I have to reach into the box rather than having it standing up there for me. Good ol' helpful David,huh? HOTEL PREVIA by Rob Jackson It was just as well that Matt brought a two-litre bottle of water with us, really. A couple of days beforehand, the weather forecast had said there might be a patch of snow coming down from the Midlands and affecting central southern England. Gradually, the forecasts became more dramatic about the amount of snow that might fall that Tuesday evening, but the white patches on the maps on TV seemed to stop just west of the A3 Portsmouth to Guildford trunk road. Oh, we’ll be all right if we get away not too late in the evening, as most of the snow will be overnight. And the A3 is such a busy road that the traffic is bound to keep it open..... There were four of us setting off from the Jackson family home west of Chichester that Tuesday evening in January 2010, expecting to reach the Radisson Edwardian hotel (of Eastercon fame) next to Heathrow Airport, stay overnight, and catch a plane to Raleigh, North Carolina the next morning, for our son Hugo’s wedding in Raleigh the following Saturday. As well as my wife Coral and myself, our daughter Dulcie and her partner Matt had travelled down from Bristol to join us for the trip. Hugo was already safely in the States; our youngest daughter Venetia was unable to join us because of college work, so was dog- and house-sitting with her boyfriend for company. As the actual flight was at noon, being at Heathrow overnight would be really safe for a 9 am check-in, we thought. We decided to go in the one car to save parking charges, and took the Previa people-carrier, as there was plenty of room for luggage. Dulcie and Matt left Bristol as soon as possible given the threat of snow from the west, and made it to our place OK by 3 pm. As we started tea, it began to rain, but when we were tidying up and packing the car, it changed to snow. When we set off at 6.40, the snow was starting to settle. Google Maps gave a journey time of 1 hour 40 minutes under normal conditions between our house and the hotel. To be on the safe side, rather than go via the usual local minor roads, we went a roundabout route involving the local main roads.