The following's a quote, apparently from Raymond Chandler,
clipped from a web-page and fowarded to me by a friend some
>TV ULTRA for Wednesday July 7, 1999
>BRAVO, 7pm PT / 10pm ET (1:00)
>Chandler hated science fiction. Here's part of a letter he wrote to a
>friend in 1953:
>"Did you ever read what they call Science Fiction. It's a scream. It is
>written like this: "I check out with K 19 on Aldabaran III, and stepped
>out through the crummalite hatch on my 22 Model Sirus Hardtop. I cocked
>the timejector in secondary and waded through the bright blue manda
>grass. My breath froze into pink pretzels. I flicked on the heat bars
>and the Brylls ran swiftly on five legs using their other two to send
>out crylon vibrations. The pressure was almost unbearable, but I caught
>the range on my wrist computer through the transparent cysicites. I
>pressed the trigger. The thin violet glow was icecold against the
>rust-colored mountains. The Brylls shrank to half an inch long and I
>worked fast stepping on them with the poltex. But it wasn't enough. The
>sudden brightness swung me around and the Fourth Moon had already risen.
>I had exactly four seconds to hot up the disintegrator and Google had
>told me it wasn't enough. He was right.
>"They pay brisk money for this crap?"
Bruce T. =
catch the westbound train: hobo slang for death
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