(En skämtsam - kanske allvarligt menad - grej om den här idiotin om att ändra
namn på priser, t ex John W Campbell-priset. Postat på utrikiska listor. --AE)
Proclamation from the Central Committee of Sci-Fi Fandom
The Central Committee of Sci-Fi Fandom has unanimously adapted the following
proclamation:
We demand that the Nebula Award must be renamed! As you all know it was
instituted in honour of hackwriter Ray A Nebula, mostly known fur poor shaggy
dog stories like Celsius 233, The Moon is a Horny Mistress, I Rabbit and Do
Paranoids Dream of the Electric Chair.
It has come to our attention that he is a purebred Nazi! You may think we are
dogmatic and that it's our pet theory, but the fact is that he is very cruel to
his dog. A neighbour has been a bloodhound on his tracks and testify how Mr
Nebula's animal often growls: "I don't want to bark up the wrong tree, but it
sounds like it has been beaten...or at leashed hasn't gotten its food...I can
sniff it!"
Beside starving the poor animal and plausible evidence of physical violence,
the poor creature doesn't gets its morning walks.
"I've seldom seen Mr Nebula take out his dog for a walk," the neighbour
continued. "He keeps it locked in the house like a prison, like a concentration
camp!"
This Nazi's publisher, Herman Fasscist, editor of Asspounding SF, also
complains that Mr Nebula missed a deadline, trying to flea his responsibility
by claiming "the dog ate the manuscript". Clearly that's pawsitively indicates
that the battered canine saw its chance to get back. This is a hot dog story we
need to take seriously.
When confronted by these serious accusations Mr Nebula doggedly pretended to
be innocent as a puppy and said in a husky voice: "Oh, get off my tail you
mongrels! You are even dogging my neighbour. What, book forest? No, I've never
been to Buchenwald!"
Of course, as a pedigree Nazi he wouldn't confess. But look, Hitler had a
dog. Mr Nebula has a dog. Why? He follows his master like a hound in his
tracks. Case closed.
The sci-fi community can't poodle around. We will huff and puff until the
situation is rectified. We will be very angry! Do you hear! Angry! Red with
rage!
Signed: Pucko Enfaldig, Party Secretary
from the meeting at Royal Messup Hotel, Room 769
(Hm, some spelling looks suspicious, but most was hopefully taken down
correctly. As our party plotted its righteous actions, there were damn noisy
festivities from a party next door.)
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Fandboken/YXSKAFTBUD GE VÅR WCZONMÖ IQ-HJÄLP! (DN NoN 00.02.07)
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