Reflections From a Murky Pond

In Ayn Rand’s Atlas Shrugged there was a hidden refuge in a valley of Colorado where the people of ability had retreated to after relinquishing participation in American society. It was aptly nicknamed “Galt’s Gulch” by its inhabitants, though it was more properly named “Mulligan’s Valley” since it was the property of Michael “Midas” Mulligan, a banker and one of the first strikers to heed John Galt’s call.

The basic premise is that the United States has degenerated into an authoritarian, quasi-Marxist state, strangling business, innovation, and personal liberty in favor of an non merit-based egalitarian result. John Galt responds by convincing the productive and innovative people – the “Men of the Mind” – to withdraw from society and take their skills and visions with them, “stopping the motor of the world” by withdrawing the “minds” that drive society’s growth and productivity.

John Galt is Prometheus who changed his mind. After centuries of being torn by vultures in payment for having brought to men the fire of the gods, he broke his chains — and he withdrew his fire — until the day when men withdraw their vultures.

— Francisco d’Anconia
Atlas Shrugged, Part II, Chapter V

One thing that strikes me as odd – and more than a little frustrating – is that both Rand’s supporters and detractors view this as a Dystopian future, as if it wasn’t, in pragmatic effect, already well underway.

Ayn Rand’s Future Is Now

In the real world Galt’s Gulch aka Mulligan’s Valley isn’t some concealed refuge in Colorado; it’s the global marketplace and the Third World labor pool. Business leaders are finding Galt’s Gulch in many places outside of America’s borders and jurisdiction.

• Decline of Manufacturing
  America no longer produces much domestically. Over the last 60 years there’s been slightly over of 66% drop in employment within factories inside the US and a commensurate rise in off-shoring manufacturing to places such as Mexico and China.
• Decline of Innovation
  Scientific and technological advances are also, more and more, coming from overseas. Companies are now paying scientists in China, India, Singapore, and other foreign lands to perform R & D instead of using more expensive domestic scientists and research facilities.

The motor is already stopping. Corporations, faced with the inability to compete globally with less restrictive regimes and with lower order economies while using domestic labor and facilities, are already “striking” and moving more and more of their operations outside of America.

George Orwell wrote Nineteen Eighty-Four. Aldous Huxley wrote Brave New World. Both were dire, dystopian works that speculated upon a horrid future. The two great authors were, however, wildly divergent in their fears and warnings.

George Orwell v. Aldous Huxley – Divergent Distopian Predictions

Both Orwell and Huxley feared a future when we would be a captive culture. Orwell feared captivity by the State but Huxley feared captivity by own venality and pleasure seeking.

Orwell depicted a future society where books were banned and where the State would deprive us of information. Huxley posited a future society where would be no reason to ban a book, because there would be no one who would want to read one, but where so much data would be provided that we would be sunk into egoistic pacifism.

Orwell feared that the State would conceal the truth from us. Huxley feared the truth would be drowned out by the constant nattering stream of irrelevancies.

Simply put, Orwell feared hate and pain whereas Huxley feared love and pleasure. There is grim sense in both men’s fears; both the “carrot” and the “stick” are used to gain and maintain control.
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In January of 1945, during the final months of WW2, the already renowned science fiction author Robert Heinlein wrote a letter to one of science fiction’s greatest fans, Forrest Ackerman who many consider the founder of science fiction fandom. In the missive Mr. Heinlein offered his sincere and heart-felt condolences over Mr. Ackerman’s brother, Alden’s death during the Battle of the Bulge on New Year’s Day 1945 while he serving in the 11th Armor Division, 42nd Tank Battalion, D Company as the battalion was fighting its way to Bastogne to relieve the 101st Airborne.

Alden Ackerman was 21 years old at the time of of his death from a German air strike on the battalion which was securing Rechrival, Belgium.

Robert Heinlein did more than offer his condolences though. He also launched a blistering and cruelly accurate attack on the bulk of science fiction fandom of the time. Heinlein passionately condemned the inaction of most fans and, not without cause, blamed these fans for the death of Forrest’s brother, Alden.

The transcript and scan of Heinlein’s letter is from Letters of Note.

311 S. Hicks St.
Philadelphia 2, Pa.
28 Jan 1945

Dear Forry,

Our hearts are sore at your loss and there is nothing we can say to relieve your personal anguish. Your brother died a noble and heroic death. It is my belief that he did in fact die to make a better world; it is for us who live on to see to it that a better world is accomplished. I am heartened that you regard it as your duty to follow through on his unfinished work.

I will not be able to supply an article for the fan publication you propose to publish in his memory. I dislike to have to tell you that I will not be writing for you, under the circumstances, and I feel that you are entitled to a full explanation. Forry, every day I am writing things which are, literally, dedicated to Alden, and to the many, many others who have died and are dying. My daily writings are dedicated to getting the war won quicker with the fewest number of deaths of our own. My writings are laboratory instructions, engineering reports, letters to manufacturers, and other things having to do with the tedious work of scientific research for war. It takes up all of my energy and all of my imagination and I have none left over for other matters. If I had any energy left over, I would know that I was not doing all that I could do and I would then, in truth, be disloyal to your brother’s memory.

(I have, not a belief, not a conviction, but a knowledge of personal survival. You said on your post card that you wanted to discuss the matter with us someday. We will be honored to do so.)

Forry, you have sought my advice on matters which worried you in the past. You have not sought my advice in this matter, but I am going to presume on our old friendship to offer you some. I know that you are solemn in your intention to see to it that Alden’s sacrifice does not become meaningless. I am unable to believe that fan activity and fan publications can have anything to do with such intent. I have read the fan publications you have sent me and, with rare exceptions, I find myself utterly disgusted with the way the active fans have met the trial of this war. By the fan mags I learn that many of these persons, who are readily self-congratulatory on their superiority to ordinary people—so many, many of these “fans” have done nothing whatsoever to help out. Many of them are neither in the army nor in war work. Many have found this a golden opportunity to make money during a war boom—by writing, by commercial photography, through the movies, or by other worthless activities—worthless when compared with what your brother Alden was doing. These bastards let your brother die, Forry, and did not lift a hand to help him. I mean that literally. The war in Europe would have been over if all the slackers in this country had been trying to help out—would have been over before the date on which your brother died. The slackers are collectively and individually personally responsible for the death of Alden. And a large percent of fans are among those slackers. Alden’s blood is on their hands.

As for persons who are guilty not merely by sins of omission but who actively threw their weight against us, like that traitorous little bastard Jocquel, I have no words to describe them. It is a bitter thing that he should be alive while your brother is dead. It would be well for him to stay out of my sight when this is over. As for any of them, unless they have fought this war in every way they could to the best of their ability, I will not meet with them socially when this is over. I will not shake hands, speak, sit down, nor eat with them.

I am not alone in this opinion. You will find that my opinion is shared by Carnell and by Franklyn Brady. You will find it shared by many others of the grown-ups who know that a war is going on and know that it is not a game nor a joke nor a piece of fiction but a tragic business in which men like your brother Alden meet their deaths, too young and too horribly.

Forry, I want you to dedicate yourself to Alden’s memory. To be faithful to him we now have two jobs to do. The first is to win this war as quickly as possible. You can do that by volunteering for something more useful than you are now doing. General Lear has said that he needs thousands of limited-duty clerks and such behind the lines in Europe to release able-bodied men for action. Or, perhaps, a re-examination will find you no longer limited in duty. In either case a Wac can edit your camp paper. The second job is, now and after the war, to see to it that it shall not happen again. There are many ways to do that and each must select his own—political activity of every sort, writing intended to stir people up, the willingness to combat race hatred, discrimination, limitations of civil liberty, generalized hates of every sort, whenever and wherever they show up. But I am damn well sure that fan activity is not the way to serve Alden’s memory. Fandom has had a chance to prove itself and it has failed. I find the mags crowded with escapism and other nonsense; I find that fans now call themselves “Slans” (God save us!) on many occasions. I find many other evidences of group paranoia and of psychotic infantilism—and unwillingness to face up to adult problems and to cope with them. Forry, you may write the most inspiring things for a better world possible; if you direct them to this group, they will be worthless in carrying on with Alden’s unfinished work, for they will fall on sterile ground. I am not generalizing; there are a few adults among them and there was a fair percentage before the war. I do not indict any who are carrying their load. But there are many (and you know that I am right) who are doing nothing and did nothing to save your brother’s life. A bunch of neurotic, selfish, childish, insensitive and unimaginative, vicious bunch of jerks! It is time you quit associating with them and tackled the problems of the real world.

We are very fond of you, Forry. You are a fine and gentle soul. This is a very difficult letter to write; if I did not think you were worth it, I would not make the effort. This letter is for your eyes only; the ideas in it you are free to use but the letter is for you only.

I am very sorry your brother was killed; You may be sure that Leslyn and I will be faithful to his memory with all our strength.

Love,

(Signed, ‘Bob’)

What was true in the 1940s is just true today and Robert Heinlein would likely be no fonder of many within science fiction fandom today than he was of many of those during WW2. “A bunch of neurotic, selfish, childish, insensitive and unimaginative, vicious bunch of jerks,” who are afflicted with an odd and pernicious sort of , “group paranoia and of psychotic infantilism—and unwillingness to face up to adult problems and to cope with them,” still aptly, if unflatteringly and uncharitably, describes a solid majority of fandom today.

I’m not talking about the larger body of fans of science fiction, but rather the active members of “fandom.”

I’m not sure if I can properly describe and define that distinction because I have long been involved with the science fiction and fantasy scene and am, to some extent, effected by the same affliction and attitudes of the rest of them. Suggesting that you review the movies, Trekkies and Galaxy Quest, is the best that I can offer.

This is not to say that there are not good Americans and true within fandom’s ranks, for that would be a rank falsehood. It is just that such men and women are in the minority, just as they were when Heinlein wrote this letter to Ackerman.

This is truly a sad and bitter fact. Fandom had much to offer America but has failed to do so many, many times since its members, when not actually adhering to the philosophies of our enemies, hold themselves aloof as if they were too good to soil their hands with honest work in service to the nation that provides them with the freedom to pursue their pleasures.

On Monday, May 10, 2010 the legendary artist Frank Frazetta died of a stroke at the age of 82 in hospital near his home in Boca Grande, FL. Our world has grown just a bit more drab and dreary with the passing of Mr. Frazetta who was one of the true greats of 20th century art and who inspired so very many people over the course of his life and career.

He had been heroically battling severe and chronic illness for well over a decade. Sadly, this last stroke was just too much – even for him.

Frank Frazetta painted heroes defending fair damsels from the very spawn of Hell and inspired whole generations of artists, game designers, writers, musicians, and film makers with his works over his 40+ year career. Yet, in many ways Frank was every bit as much of a hero as the characters he brought to life with his brush and his fire. When the strokes took his good right hand – think about that – he trained himself to paint with left and kept on going, indomitable and passionate.

But, while I’m saddened by his passing out of our lives, I’m not too shocked that Frank finally laid down his arms and his brush and let the reaper claim him. In July of 2009 Frank’s great love, muse, and wife of 53 years, Ellie, died after a long battle with cancer. With his children long grown and with families of their own it’s not odd or shocking that chose to follow Ellie.

One of Frank & Ellie’s Wedding Photos From 1956

People can, have, and will continue to write volumes about Frank Frazetta and his wife and partner, Ellie. I’m not really up to that challenge right now. But they say that picture is worth a thousands words, so below are 18 thousands worth worth of tribute and eulogy.

 

A Very Small Sampling of Frank Frazetta’s Artwork

Frank, may you find fair winds and following seas under whatever strange and wondrous stars you and Ellie find yourselves. If you run into to David and Leigh, please say hello for me.

I live in NYC and we’re experiencing yet another snow storm. This one promises to be interesting since it will supposedly involved “mixed precipitation” – that would be rain, sleet, and snow all together – and increasing winds throughout the day and evening.

A hard day for any us who had to go into work and a hard day for any of us, et al, to stay warm. That being the case, I’d suggest that as many of us as possible enjoy some hot chocolate today.

Heidilicious Hot Chocolate!

In my personal and rarely humble opinion I’d say that the above constitutes some truly hot chocolate and would keep just about anybody warm on a day like today. 😉

These absolutely delicious images of Heidi Klum are from her and the renowned photographer Rankin’s 2009 book, Heidilicious which they created during Heidi Klum’s pregnancy.

And, if hot chocolate doesn’t work for you or if it just isn’t quite enough, you could always try some Warm Milk. 😛