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Post by cromagnonman on Feb 20, 2019 11:09:30 GMT
Hm! Now while I would never claim to have the scientific credentials of a brain box Weird Tales contributor I'm pretty sure that making something opaque invisible doesn't make it transparant; it just means that on top of not being able to see through it you can't even see that it is there. Not many practical applications for such a discovery, I would have thought. Ah, but Mendoza has upward of fifteen brains, each of them liberated from the skull of a genius. The light ray enables him to obscure an unsightly wall around his life's-work - a new, super-improved Garden of Eden (!).  Hugh Rankin ( Weird Tales, July 1928). Out of the shuddering dark of the university cloisters leapt the Green Monster, to turn at last on its creator. A simple experiment in hypnosis and auto-suggestion. The Professor projects a horrible entity into the minds of his volunteers, sits back and awaits the inevitable "sightings" over coming days. Sure enough, a terrified student reports an encounter with a fiery-eyed, throat-tearing green monster - our narrator, Boreau, is witness to the attack. The Professor is amused at the ensuing media frenzy, safe in the knowledge that a non-existent bogeyman poses no threat ... I'm sure I'm subjecting this story to far more scrutiny than it warrants but why would anyone want to make a wall invisible? Wouldn't that simply draw unwarranted attention from the first person that walked into it thereby invalidating the objective? If its that unsightly wouldn't it make more sense to simply get it rendered? But the brains of fifteen geniuses you say. Well boffins do have a reputation for overthinking a problem. I'm reminded of that story - almost certainly apocryphal - about NASA investing millions of dollars in a pen that could work in zero gravity. When they asked the Russians how they coped with the same problem they said they used a pencil. |
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Post by helrunar on Feb 20, 2019 16:37:51 GMT
Good for you, Rosemary!
A horror/fantasy film fan who runs a page on a certain social media site dedicated to the classic prozine Castle of Frankenstein described his Dad taking him to visit the "Ackermansion" at some point in, I think, the mid 1970s. The "collection" was in a mess, with stills and props spilling out all over the floor. There were bare photos just littering any spare space on any shelf and quite a bit of the rugs, or even the bare floor. The young fan had taken a couple of posters or lobby cards, or some similar kind of memorabilia, to show FJA. FJA immediately assumed that the young fan was GIVING him the stuff. The father firmly said No, we just brought these to show you. Apparently Forry couldn't understand why they wouldn't just hand over these items that were part of this kid's no doubt tiny personal hoard of horror loot.
My friend's page is called Drawbridge of the Castle--he posts lots of lovely old things from the 1960s and 70s, as well as occasional earlier stuff.
From what I have heard, Forry did stuff like this all the time, and a lot of people would just hand it over. Perhaps he took that attitude with the bodies of young women as well... the accounts I read last year certain make one inclined to think that, as people over here say nowadays, "he had a very poor sense of personal boundaries."
Best wishes, Steve
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Post by dem bones on Feb 20, 2019 19:18:29 GMT
I'm sure I'm subjecting this story to far more scrutiny than it warrants but why would anyone want to make a wall invisible? Wouldn't that simply draw unwarranted attention from the first person that walked into it thereby invalidating the objective? If its that unsightly wouldn't it make more sense to simply get it rendered? But the brains of fifteen geniuses you say. Well boffins do have a reputation for overthinking a problem. I'm reminded of that story - almost certainly apocryphal - about NASA investing millions of dollars in a pen that could work in zero gravity. When they asked the Russians how they coped with the same problem they said they used a pencil. Would have saved a lot of grief if he'd called it a "force field." One practical use for the invisible wall is thwarting Mike, the talking gorilla, who has designs on abducting Inez (see Cenf's classic cover illo). True, it would be easier to kill Mike, or merely chain him up, but Mr. Genius X 15 is pure showbiz. If it's any consolation, way things turn out, he's not so smart. My friend's page is called Drawbridge of the Castle--he posts lots of lovely old things from the 1960s and 70s, as well as occasional earlier stuff. Groovy name for a blog (?), that. Can you provide a link?  Hannes Bok: ( Weird Tales, Jan. 1942). For a Mere Cock and Bull Yarn - the Tall Trees Ghost Did a Remarkably Thorough Job of Haunting! This ones cute, a breezy historical romance with a dash of the supernatural. Abbot Telva, closet perve, is insistent that Mary Ventrell either marry his nephew, Clement D'Aigula, or enter a convent. Mary has no liking for Clement and instead announces her engagement to childhood sweetheart, Sir John de Winton, even though he's yet to propose. A furious Telva slimies up to Henry VIII to decree a royal decree that Mary does as instructed. All seems lost until lovely Anne Boleyn lets on to Sir John that Henry is fascinated by the supernatural. Perhaps if Mary and her confederates were to arrange an appearance by the 'family ghost'? |
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Post by helrunar on Feb 20, 2019 20:54:04 GMT
Kev, "Drawbridge of the Castle" is a F&c360*k item. Sorry to throw cold water on your interest! Here's an interesting old interview with the publisher/editor of Castle of Frankenstein: 21ca.com/flickhead/2_14_Beck_Interview.htmlAnd here's an engagingly-written article (one of several on the internet--the definitive treatment was in a book by Tom Weaver, title something like The Amazing B-Monster, which is or was also a website) about the main reason why people discuss Calvin T. Beck today: www.the13thfloor.tv/2016/10/17/the-other-psycho-will-the-real-norman-bates-please-stand-up/CoF was the most fascinating, most cerebrally-inclined horror/fantasy film prozine, by several orders of magnitude, published in the US at the time. Its "Gothic Castle" mail-order dept was also notorious for ripping off unwary readers who actually tried to buy stuff--even orders for back issues of the mag often went unfilled, with no response to letters of complaint. I think in a recent article in Little Shoppe of Horrors mag (a glossy fanzine once exclusively devoted to Hammer studios films, but in recent years, they've expanded to other horror/fantasy films) it was stated that one of the few times Beck was forced to fill an order was when an FBI officer arrived to investigate him for mail fraud. I'm sure there couldn't possibly have been anyone this dysfunctional in UK horror/fantasy fandom back in the day--right? I'm sure all the blokes were good upstanding Brits willing to give their all for their fellow fan. And I wrote that, uncharacteristically, with a completely straight face. All the best, Steve |
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Post by helrunar on Feb 20, 2019 20:55:22 GMT
And it's funny that I wrote about Beck on an FJA thread. For years/decades, Beck and Effjay were unremitting enemies, though there's a photo floating around of the two of them acting friendly at a con, in the Sixties I think.
H.
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Post by dem bones on Feb 21, 2019 7:11:17 GMT
Thanks for the links, Steve. Particularly *ahem* enjoyed the 13th Floor tribute to Ma Beck ...  Castle of Frankenstein #3, 1963 Michel Parry had a much happier Calvin Beck experience (that there was an ocean between them - and, of course, mother Beck - possibly helped). As a teenager, Michel published what turned out to be a one-off horror zine, Cthulhu, and mailed copies to magazines he liked, including Famous Monsters. "Somehow Calvin Beck, the publisher of Castle Of Frankenstein magazine in America, got hold of a copy of Cthulhu and reprinted some of the reviews and news items. First I knew about it was when he sent me a copy of his mag. It was basically a Famous Monsters imitation but much more ambitious, aimed at students and a more intellectual crowd than FMOF (which after the 2nd issue was aimed mostly at kids). Cal also announced that he'd appointed me the mag's 'European editor' (and had already described me as such in the mag!) How could I say no? There wasn't much money involved, but to a school kid it seemed like a lot."- Strange Trips: An Interview with Michel Parry, as recently reprinted in The Collected Pulp Horror Attached is a scan of what is almost certainly Michel's first professionally published article, a review of The Hands of Orlac in COF #3 (via Cthulhu, presumably). Several issues of COF - including this one - are available for download via Archive.org. Many thanks to the original scanner. Attachments:
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Post by helrunar on Feb 21, 2019 16:16:30 GMT
Cool, Kev! I remember noticing, after being on the Vault for a bit, that "Mike Perry" was listed as an editor/contributor in CoF. And even though I never knew Mr Perry it feels so strange that he's no longer with us, in this blossom world. I think all the CoF issues have been scanned on the Zombos Closet site. Here's the link to one of my faves--it was the first issue of the mag I ever saw, as a 15 year old: www.zomboscloset.com/zombos_closet_of_horror_b/2018/05/castle-of-frankenstein-issue-20.htmlcheers, Steve |
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Post by dem bones on Feb 23, 2019 10:45:35 GMT
 Hugh Rankin: ( Weird Tales, July 1927). A creepy weird tale of the South Seas, giant apes and eery murders - a startling story of surgery. Action diplomat Tom Mansey returns to Papau to locate and eradicate the source of a flourishing trade in white shrunken heads. The finger of suspicion points to Homer Mullet, the London surgeon struck off the medical register for unethical practice. Since taking to the jungle, Mullet has assumed leadership of a cannibal tribe who despise him but are too terrified of his private bodyguard to revolt. These 'Gray Ghouls' are indeed a force to be reckoned with; the mad MD has transplanted the brains of his seven murdered wives into the craniums of seven giant apes (hence a shared passion for dancing to modern jazz. She's My Baby Doll is top of their pops). Sheba, the former Mrs. Mullet mk. I, is particularly dangerous. Jealously possessive of her husband, she has torn apart each of her successors in turn. His one hope is to take to the water - the 'Ghouls are morbidly afeared of crocodiles - but to date Sheba has thwarted his every escape attempt. Mansey resolves to abandon Mullet to his just desserts, but the surgeon threatens him a protracted death should he try to leave without him. As a rival tribe march on the village, they grab Mullet's latest fiancée, take advantage of the mayhem to make a dash for the canoes ... This one shares the dubious distinction of gracing a Vault Advent Calendar: you can read it HERE. A warning: Brad Linweaver's "Yellow Imagicide" features a "five-hundred foot tall Forrest J Ackerman" who booms out "'Sci-fi is my high'"--an image I could've done without, particularly in light of later events. : A Politically Correct Distopia of the near future. Fantasy fiction is banned save a sanatised, synthetic version approved by the new world order. Who will save dangerous, subversive Sci-Fi? Wish I'd listened to Mr. Brewer. |
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Post by helrunar on Feb 24, 2019 0:37:42 GMT
Wow. I guess maybe it's true about Bassett Morgan writing more or less the same yarn multiple times. Her truly vigorous writing style does get one through.
"Yellow Imagicide" makes one think of Frank Zappa's dictum "Watch out where the huskies go, don't you read that Yellow Imagicide snow." (Loosely adapted from the traditional ballad)
cheers, H.
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Post by mcannon on Feb 24, 2019 8:41:55 GMT
Hugh Rankin Bassett Morgan - Gray Ghouls: ( Weird Tales, July 1927). A creepy weird tale of the South Seas, giant apes and eery murders - a startling story of surgery. Action diplomat Tom Mansey returns to Papau to locate and eradicate the source of a flourishing trade in white shrunken heads. The finger of suspicion points to Homer Mullet, the London surgeon struck off the medical register for unethical practice. Since taking to the jungle, Mullet has assumed leadership of a cannibal tribe who despise him but are too terrified of his private bodyguard to revolt. These 'Gray Ghouls' are indeed a force to be reckoned with; the mad MD has transplanted the brains of his seven murdered wives into the craniums of seven giant apes (hence a shared passion for dancing to modern jazz. She's My Baby Doll is top of their pops). Sheba, the former Mrs. Mullet mk. I, is particularly dangerous. Jealously possessive of her husband, she has torn apart each of her successors in turn. His one hope is to take to the water - the 'Ghouls are morbidly afeared of crocodiles - but to date Sheba has thwarted his every escape attempt. Mansey resolves to abandon Mullet to his just desserts, but the surgeon threatens him a protracted death should he try to leave without him. As a rival tribe march on the village, they grab Mullet's latest fiancée, take advantage of the mayhem to make a dash for the canoes ... This one shares the dubious distinction of gracing a Vault Advent Calendar: you can read it HERE. I see from the invaluable Internet Speculative Fiction Database (http://www.isfdb.org/cgi-bin/ea.cgi?15648) that Bassett Morgan (AKA Grace Ethel Jones) lived until 1977, although her last published story - at least in the field of weird fiction -appeared in 1936. I suppose that even the most inventive of writers can only come up with so many variations on the theme of brain-transplantation ......... Mark |
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Post by dem bones on Feb 24, 2019 18:37:03 GMT
I see from the invaluable Internet Speculative Fiction Database (http://www.isfdb.org/cgi-bin/ea.cgi?15648) that Bassett Morgan (AKA Grace Ethel Jones) lived until 1977, although her last published story - at least in the field of weird fiction -appeared in 1936. I suppose that even the most inventive of writers can only come up with so many variations on the theme of brain-transplantation ......... Mark Of her thirteen stories for Weird Tales, at least eight concern brain transplants - it may even be more as there are still two I've not read. Island of Doom remains my pick of these. The Wolf Woman - boffins thaw a feral queen encased in ice - is another winner.  Hugh Rankin ( Weird Tales, Aug. 1928). A fascinating story of the supernatural, in the best vein of this well-known author Grant Thorp returns home from eight years in Egypt to find best friend, Myron Tobin, has prospered considerably in his absence. Of her thirteen stories for Weird Tales, at least eight concern brain transplants - it may even be more as I've three still to read. Island Of Doom remains my favourite. Near destitute on his departure, Tobin now owns a luxury mansion. More incredible still, he has wed a remarkably beautiful young woman. All the stranger that he should allow a most spectacularly repulsive old mute in a green coat prowl the premises, flashing his mummy face to all comers and putting them off their food. Tobin reveals that, seven years ago, while walking in the woods, he came upon a derelict house, in the garden of which, a grave. Here lies the body of Lona Bennares
Nobody knows and nobody caresAs he stood contemplating the strange inscription, the man in the green coat scuttled from the house, scribbling a note, the gist of which is: Lona Bennares is not dead! Her coffin is rammed with $100, 000 in gold bars, which will be Tobin's if he will only help deliver the girl from a Hell on earth. It transpires that her fiend of a father, a black sorcerer, murdered an alchemist colleague for refusing to reveal his formula for transmuting base metal to gold. Fearful that his daughter might betray him, he had her committed to Wentworth Asylum under an assumed name, having first cast a spell to deny her of speech. The relevent authorities have been handsomely bribed to detain her for the rest of her days. Their only hope of liberating Lona is to inject her with a drug of the man in the green coat's devising which stimulates death for thirty-six hours .... |
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Post by dem bones on Feb 27, 2019 22:05:35 GMT
 Hugh Rankin: ( Weird Tales, Sept. 1928). A tale of an Arab slave-trader - an albino lion - and that strange being, the White Vampire, whom the natives dreaded. Lieutenant "Fighting" McFee, "a keen student of savage psychology," and dashing upper class big game hunter the Hon. Clifford Egerton versus Ishak-El-Naga, slave trader and murderer. McFee is sworn to bring the Arab to justice but the natives refuse to speak out against him, believing him protected by an evil mummy-faced demon, 'the White Vampire.' Following a lead given them by a dying fugitive, the white men eventually locate the slaver's hideaway - a pyramid obscured by vegetation in the thick of the African bush. No sooner have they tumbled inside than McFee and Egerton are jumped, overcome and secured to a pillar at the mercy of a ferocious albino lion. The White Vampire and her blood-thirsty worshippers are loving it! "Its no use, Egerton, old man. We're cooked this time ... I suspected something pretty bad - but nothing as devilish as this." And then ... FJA sure liked his weird fiction preposterous. |
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