Volume 10, Issue 9, page 3


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1113ÄRRÄ
Recusant Voice of The !nfinites' for Earth, Mars,
Menus. Saturn. Pluto, and Zydokumzruskehen
Vol. X JANUARY-FEBRUARY, 1964 No. 9
Published monthly, except for the combined JanuaryFebruary and the July-August issues, at
2522 North Monroe, Enid, Okla.

Mail Address: Postoffice Box 528, Enid, Okla. 73701
Subscription Price: $2 a year, $5 for 3 years,
single copies, 25t
Second class postage paid at Enid, Oklahoma
EDITOR: The Rev. Mr. Dr. ALPHIA OMEGA HART, I-2, D.D.,
D.Scn., F.Scn., B.Scn., HCA, HDA, et al ad infinitum ad nauseum.

PUBLISHER: ALICE AGNES HART, I-1, HCA, SEC., WFE.,
Hkpr., Lbrn., ETC. (Degrees non-cancellable).

ADVERTISING -- Payable in advance. Write for rates.
Copy must reach us 45 days prior to insertion date.

NOTE TO SUBSCRIBERS -- The Post Office does not forward
magazines, even if you guarantee postage, so keep us
informed of any address changes -- even minor ones -- if
you want your magazine delivered. Also, send us your
ZIP code; it may not do you, or us, any good, but be
big, and let's go along with the gag -- just for fun.

HART TO HEART 2
AUDITORIAL-"Work" We Do in Recall
Is Most Wearing 3
CAN'T SLEEP? QUIT WRIGGLING --
Mark McDonald 4
"TEMPLE OF TOMORROW" HAS A THISYEAR TEMPO 4
1964's OMINOUS FIRST MONTHS --
Sylvia DeLong 5
STAR DUST -- Sylvia DeLong 6
NO SEX CHANGE BETWEEN LIVES --
George Thomas Crawford 7
IS IT ART OR INSANITY? --
Jack Felts 9
RIGHT INTENT HELD KEY TO FINDING
DISTORTIONS -- Marie Bothe 11
FATHER ZERO'S MOTHER GOOSE --
Philip Friedman 12
CREATION OF A CREATOR --
Dr. Karl Kridler 13
ORACLE OF DREAMS -- Lowana Julaine 14
"END OF WORLD ALREADY HERE", SAYS
WRITER -- Raymond Reid 15
BOOK REVIEWS 16
HI! -- Albert Roy Davis 17
LETTERS 18
POLICY: Don't take it so damn' seriously. The infiniteness of Man is not reduced to a "split infinity"
by wars, taxes, or "experts" who seek to sell
him what he already has in an infinite amount.

SUB-POLICY: We reserve the right to change our minds
from issue to issue, or even from page to page,
if we desire.

SUB-SUB-POLICY: Each Man has the inherent right to be
his own and only "Authority "
SUB-SUB-SUB-POLICY -- We have no objection to "educated
guesses" about Man's destiny -- if there's no
price tag to it, and if the guesser has no objection to our guessing he's only guessing.
"WORK" WE DO WHY CAN two persons, apparently
IN RECALL IS of equal strength and stamina,
MOST WEARING work side by side, yet one will
complete the day ready for an
evening of fun, a romp with the kids, or a
strenuous session at the bowling alley -- while
the other heads for home, a long discussion of
his woes with his "understanding" wife, and
early retirement after dinner?
This problem Caine up the other day when a
friend complained she was "simply worn out" --
and she looked it. On the surface, we could
see no reason for it; she lived in a small
furnished apartment, there was only her and
her husband. She had no outside employment, no
stairs to climb, no yard-work.

Yet she could tell you in minute detail how
she had made the bed, swept the two rooms,
cleaned up the kitchen dishes, dusted the living room furniture, driven to the supermarket
for groceries, defrosted t h e refrigerator,
made herself coffee and toast for a late breakfast and washed these dishes, typed off some
recipes she found in a magazine, and "called
Helen (her sister) five times before I got her
-- she's never at home any more."
Poor diet? This probably had. something to
do with it, as cigarets and coffee are not acceptable substitutes for food in intelligent
health circles.

A bid for sympathy? Or was she trying to
assuage her guilt at doing little to justify
her existence? These, too, probably had a role
in our friend's problem, explaining why she
was "simply worn out" when her body should
have been capable of much, much more without
the slightest ill effect.

THEN WE remembered a job we once had in a
large California newspaper's composing room.
We were "setting ads" -- putting together the
type for display advertisements -- and on "busy"
days, it wasn't unusual for 300 to 400 inches
of these ads to go thru our hands and back to
the make-up department, where type was assembled in completed pages. Then, the union came
up with a rule that no one person could set
more than 200 inches in one eight-hour day,
and to prove that none of us cheated, each had
to take a"tamp proof" of his own work, which
he submitted to the "chapel chairman" (the
shop' s union watchdog) each night.

At first, we caught ourselves loafing some
of the time, trying to stay within limits,
"killing" minutes by measuring and remeasuring
the lineage on our proofs, until such time as
the hands of the clock permitted us to call it
a day's work, and go home. Gradually, however,
that 200 inches began to look bigger and bigger, until there were days when we had difficulty coming even near our quota. And yet we
were more tired than we had been back when we
had thought little of turning out twice as
much. It wasn't the work that was tiring us --
it was the system.

A ND SO it was with our friend. Not her physical muscles were performing the motions, but
her mental muscles were -- over and over and
over. Like a "bitching" army that gets little
done but exhausts itself in exchanging gripes
and rumor mongering, she was wearing herself
out by thinking, instead of toning up and conditioning those muscles by doing.

More persons think themselves into a grave
than work themselves into one -- in spite of
medical advice that constantly abets such a
condition with such recommendations as: "Take
it easy! Don't over-do ! " So we coast thru
life, saving for retirement, and condemning
ourselves to death, just when our experience
should be of the utmost value to ourselves,
and those coming after us.