Hart to Hart

This is our 50th ABERREE,
and completes five years of
publishing. Maybe we ought to
go into a long bathos-studded
song about our growth from a
six-page mimeographed expose --
and our disinclination to get
out even a second issue -- but
we will save such rhetoric for
next month -- just in case we
should be short of copy. However, a recent appeal from our
co-criminal, George Nickerson,
for some $ 20 sponsors to keep
his magazine, IS, publishing
reminded us (if we needed such
a reminder) that we're still
publishing at $2 a year, and
shall continue to do so until
such time as we go up to $2.50 ,
when we probably will make it
$3, just for the heck of it.
But that isn't in the cards
for a long, long time. Publishing The ABERREE is too
much fun, and were we to join
the inflationary spiral , we
might get the crazy idea that
we're here to make money, and
not to enjoy a "game". The only one who might protest our
lack of financial ambitions
would be Uncle Sam, who gets
darned little from the profit
we don't make -- except postage,
of course, which is sub-infinitesimal to a $$$-eyed politician...

1 It' s "Cupid" Mathison ,
now. After years of electropsychometrically straightening
out an aberrated public's sex
life, Volney has branched into
a field of language instruction. And what instruction!
While you sleep, he undertakes
to teach you how to tell that
foreign girl (or boy) who "No
spika da Heengleesh " how beautiful they are, that you're in
love with them, that you want
a kiss, or "Not here!", and
"Where's the powder-room?"
(Must be for teaching girls --
whoever heard of a man wanting
to visit a powder-room?) It' s
probably a "must" for any romantically-inclined tourist on
his way to Germany. France,
Italy, or Spain -- who doubts he
will be able to get his intentions across conversationally.

And our long-unheard-from pal ,
Jonas Bigo. volunteers his services to make a training tape
on the love language of the
Zydokumzruskhens. The twinkle
in his eye reminds us that on
this far-off planet, they slip
up behind the one they'd like
to mate with, cut off their
nose with a special shear made
for the purppse, and if the
chosen one bleeds, that proves
they'll return your love; if
they abandon the body, you'd
better start looking elsewhere
for someone to do your cooking. Want to teach it, Volney?
It starts off zZZzzziZ9ZzzZ...
' Arentz, who has been
transferred to Chicago from
Boulder, Colo., now has Oklahoma in his territory, and it
was on his pre -Ground Hog Day
excursion to this area that he
dropped in for a week-end and
brought with him one of this
winter's unusually many snows.
(If adding Alaska to the U. S.
is going to have this effect
on the weather, we wish they'd
hurry and get Hawaii in as a
counterbalance.) Anyhow, while
here, Bob demanded, pleaded,
begged for, and otherwise
twisted our arms until we gave
in and warmed up Bob's E-Meter
for a few hours. First auditing we'd done for more than
three years, and it was very
enlightening -- to us. Much to
our surprise, we were able to
oil, asphalt, and other mineral
riches to be found under the
sand and gravel of the desert.
I'm (I hope it proves true )
what might be called a "walking doodle-bug". I don't use
the mysterious little gadget
so dear to oil men who don't
believe wholly in highly-paid
geologists. I just go walking
with peters. I "feel" oil underfoot, say so, and Peters
checks with his doodle-bug. He
never fails to agree with me,
except sometimes in how far
down the oil is , or the gas ,
or the asphalt. Of course, it
remains to be seen whether any
of the stuff is really there.
But I'm sure you'll be interested to know that a well or
wells will be punched in the
very near future. Even one ,
coming in, will secure the
health center I so much desire
here in the sand and cacti.

I've been doing a lot of
talking, too. I've talked to
various clubs, including the
excitingly active Space Club,
about all sorts of psychic,
esoteric, and metaphysical
things. Between times, I've
The ABERREE
Red Hands hi the 3esert
HAT "Hit ' Em Between the
Wes" device I mentioned
in the last issue of The
ABERREE still does excellent
work, and we are learning a
great deal more about it. But
the lawyer for the inventordistributor nixes any publicity on it just yet, until printed instructions, with pictures, are available. Since I
suggested this to the inventor
when he was here, it's O.K.
with me, but cutting off the
publicity curtails the clinic
temporarily. I was supposed to
cut the article you read, but
somehow forgot it. And you who
have read about it will be
pleased to know that we have
two of the N-Stress gadgets in
the Cactus Forest, and two operators—one of them being
your humble scrivener. fem.
(ED. NOTE—Burks 's address,
for any who wish to contact
him direct , is Gen. Del., Florence . Ariz.)
I've sent out stories on Erwin A.Peters, one of the three
men who sponsored me when I
first came to Florence, but
they dealt largely with gas,
12
By ARTHUR J. BURKS
been working like a beaver on
"imbalanced" persons - - those
with ailments which can be
helped by the "red hands" (and
the N-Stress). Last issue, I
said the device put me out of
business. I was hasty. Most
persons who go for the device
wish to have the hands before
or after treatment with the NStress. I had been relieved,
when I first experienced the
device, that I would no longer
have more unpaid work than I
could possibly do. I got over
that quickly. I like to heal.
I aeust heal . That's the long
and short of it; the healer is
compelled to make use of his
gift.

Oh, yes, I can now use the
red hands under the supervision of a registered nurse , provided she is under a physician's supervision. We 've worked
it out nicely, a nurse and I.
It makes me a "practical
nurse ", who must obey a chit
of a girl a third my age, but
so long as the combination
works, I don't complain. I
wanted to "be legal"; now , for
the most part, I am.