Stranger than Steiger! Weirder than Warren! More incredible than anything ever published by Christopher Dane or Eric Norman! At least that's the promise ... Compiled by the editors of Borderline Magazine, prepare yourself for a journey through things STRANGE, STRANGER, STRANGEST!
Borderline was a short lived competitor to Fate that last only ten issues through 1964-1966, and perhaps for good reason. This title compiles 23 articles representing the best of the best Borderline had to offer, and it's fairly pedestrian stuff. There's no introduction, just a table of contents and then we jump into Joseph Goodavage's tacky article where he claims that he and certain other astrologers were able to predict JFK's assassination. One of "the others" Goodavage refers to is almost certainly superstar psychic Jeane Dixon, who made much hay out of claiming to have foreseen Kennedy's death years prior ... it's all hooey, of course, with Dixon massaging her generic doomsaying and not-quite-right guesses into something stupendous after the fact. And Goodavage's attempt at "saving" the President, after unlocking this horrible future? Well, he didn't really try anything. He does say that some astrologers feel the future can't be changed, while others disagree, but what it all really means is that his title is a big ol' fib! More silliness: Goodavage poses as a neutral observer, claiming he was quite skeptical of astrology before he experienced its amazing powers for himself. That's when he's not busy condescending to astronomers, lecturing that since the two fields share some terminology, astronomers who reject astrology are ignoramuses who don't even understand their own work! Goodavage laments that modern astrological writing is "cluttered with intellectual junk," and he proves himself right with this pathetic article.
Up next is another poor showing, by one Carl Randall. It should be noted that the FictionMags Index at Galactic Central has a database of writers who appeared in the very first issue of Borderline, which includes some of those profiled today such as Randall. Our man Carl writes a disjointed piece on a psychic named Fred Kimball who does readings of peoples' pets. It all reads like a silly season piece that Randall holds at arm's length throughout, from weird descriptions of how Kimball makes "normal bathroom noises" and is "handsome in a massive, busted-nose, broken-brow sort of way," to intermittent skepticism and sharp dissections of Kimball's cold reading method. Randall attends a public reading by Kimball, sharing space with celebrity psychic Gina Cerminara, and indulges in some cheap people watching to pad his article. Be warned: puppies younger than six months are not good candidates for reading! But Kimball tries it with Randall's beloved new dog anyways, with mixed results. This bit is moving, as Randall clearly loves his pooch Babe. Later on Randall jokes that Kimball's cheating: he can't really read animal minds at all, he must just have "normal" ESP and be reading the owners! Some googling reveals that besides being possibly the very first pet psychic ever, Kimball was also a high priest of Huna magic, that manufactured white insult to native Hawaiian spirituality. Go figure.
Chapter three is a piece by Hale Sparks on Patricia Ainsworth Stanley, the housewife who "sees" with her fingers! Sparks also mentions two ladies from the USSR, Rosa Kuleshova and Lena Bliznova, who have the same powers. This chapter is acceptable filler. Sparks arranges a double blind test of Stanley's finger sight ability, taking care to make sure that there's no way she could cheat by accidentally reading Professor Richard Youtz's mind during testing, and the results are supposedly incredible ... supposedly. There's also an old New York Times article from 1964 which features most of the info here. Finger sight is more technically known as biointroscopy.
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| Fate also covered Rosa Kuleshova |
Cultural titan Lawrence Lipton contributes chapter four, an overview of modern magic which touches on nude rituals, witch burnings, Margaret Murray and Wilhelm Reich. Interesting but nothing particularly rigorous. Moving on, William Wolff writes a paean in chapter five to "the woman who said 'no' to Hitler," the Baroness Lotte von Strahl. It seems that the Baroness was wanted by Hitler, for her psychic prowess! She possibly saves Hitler's life during the infamous Nuremberg rally, sensing potential danger zones on a map provided by Himmler and Heydrich, but Wolff doesn't press her here. Hitler's overjoyed at her psychic protection in any case, and pesters the Baroness to become his personal seer. Perhaps wisely deciding that being the Fuhrer's psychic was not a healthy career move, von Strahl and her diplomat husband finagled a posting to South Africa, whereupon they defected to the British. After the war the von Strahls moved to Hollywood, where the Baroness became a psychic gadfly, appearing on talk shows and thrilling the beautiful people with her very dramatic life story. Another acceptable chapter, on par with the stuff you'd see in Fate.
Whimsically named Andrew Tackaberry gives us a rundown on spiritualism and mediums, hitting the historical notes on characters like the Fox sisters and letting us know that poltergeists are NOT the spirits of the deceased, but rather "subhuman spirits" intruding into our world. That's news you can use, I suppose. Following this tack, writer Jane Allen delivers a credulous biographical sketch on the psychic medium scam artist Daniel Dunglas Home. Not much to say about this chapter, which launders a fraudulent medium through high minded appeals to abolitionism and feminism.
Chapter eight, at least, has something to recommend it: it's an early critical appraisal of L. Ron Hubbard, actually part two of an earlier article not reprinted here, by writer Richard G. Sipes. Sipes points out Hubbard's diploma mill degree and some eccentricities but is fairly restrained, as seems to be the house style of Borderline, coming out neither strongly for nor against but concluding that, devil or saint, Hubbard adds a splash of color to these drab modern times. Sipes himself was the author of some middling science fiction short stories, indifferently reviewed across the web. Chapter nine sees Richard Wolff - not to be confused with the modern economist - writing another credulous overview of a fringe grifter as we saw in chapter seven. This time it's chiropractic quack and inventor of "concept therapy" George Thurman Fleet. Fleet's son George Jr. has since continued in his father's footsteps, and material by the both of them is available from various chiropractic resources online.
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| As easy as XYZ |
Things take a dark turn in chapter ten. Evelyn Lawson describes a disturbing visit from a dark spirit, and later learns from a friend that she narrowly escaped a fate worse than death. It seems that the ghosts of suicide victims will try to body snatch the living, tricking us into accidental ends and stealing our bodies as our own immortal souls depart! Lawson learns that her ex-husband's brother had just hung himself. She ends her chapter asking us, "Did you ever know a friend whose character suddenly changed overnight?" Not cool, Evelyn!
Chapters eleven and twelve are diverting entries on two different gurus. First off, Norman Winski goes into Vedanta, a path to enlightenment charted by Swami Prabhavananda, currently the hot new thing in '60s Hollywood. Winski then covers Subub, an esoteric practice hailing from Indonesia and lighting up Pasadena, headed by the sublime Subuh. Subud reads like a blend of transcendental meditation and John C. Lilly's isolation tank, but social. Subub still claims adherents today and, perhaps more importantly, heretics as well! Witness the very well curated website for dissident practitioners of Subub unhappy with the church as it stands. You know you've got it made as a religion when you've got schisms. These two chapters are a high point in the volume. Winksi was a working writer who penned some men's adventure pulp and the novelization for the classic '80s fantasy The Sword and the Sorcerer.
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| Subuh and the Swami |
After this high point comes a goofy letdown, an article by Valerie Barnaby asking us where do full moon babies go? Barnaby spins up some fantasies about full moon births and does some shaky number crunching to find an attendant, disturbing lack of adult "full moon babies" ... so where did they go? Crank nonsense! Jane Allen returns afterwards to pen another credulous piece on another occult figure, Helena Blavatsky. There's some sociological context here which makes for interesting reading, things just lightly touched on in Allen's prior chapter.
Next comes a long, loooong chapter on how to conduct a seance, by James Crenshaw. Crenshaw cribs from Nandor Fodor's guidelines with some notes, and compares this with another guide by the British Society for Psychical Research. Crenshaw describes the SPR's guide as more skeptical and hardheaded, warning as it does against fraud and manipulative mediums. Crenshaw doesn't truck with skepticism, claiming that a bad attitude can ruin a reading and that even tape recorders - used by the circumspect to corroborate exact details after a session - can be ruinous. In his words, they're "a new fangled device" often "fiddled with" to the point of distraction for the poor medium! To be fair to Crenshaw, he admits recorders can be helpful in determining whether information in a session has been gained 1) through normal means, 2) through telepathy by the medium, or 3) through communication with "discarnate spirits." He also warns against dependence on mediums, the sort of learned helplessness nurtured by scam artists wherein a mark is unable to continue day to day life without constant consultations with the other side.
Chapter sixteen is a dull slog through Carl Jung's mystical side, via Anne Nelan. Basically, modern society has a hunger for spiritual fulfillment left wanting by our modern times. Adoy, Anne, but do you have anything interesting to say about it? Nelan does drop a wild bit of trivia that Jung once knocked Freud unconscious with a full on psychic attack during an argument! But other than that, nah ... Thankfully afterwards we're saved by one of the better chapters of the book, Shelly Lowenkopf's appraisal of phrenology. It's an exciting chapter that tracks phrenology's arrival in America and explores its roots in Franz Gall's anti-democratic elitism and the cultural/scientific milieu of the 1800s. Lowenkopf is still kickin' to this day, teaching writing FOA (that's "for older adults"). This is the last high point of the book, and it's thin gruel the rest of way.
Andrew Tackaberry offers another wisp of a chapter, this time on stigmata. It's all basic historical info delivered without any of the verve or analysis of Lowenkopf. Lawrence Lipton also returns, to defend Wilhelm Reich and his sex positivity while avoiding mentioning his sexual abuse of patients. Norman Winski gives us a decent overview of automatic writing, a positive blip as we slide towards the end. Our old friend Susy Smith disappoints with a competent but uninspiring chapter on the medium Gladys Leonard. SF scribe Richard G. Sipes outlines his personal rankings on magic users, with differences delineated between witches, warlocks, sorcerers, and so on. The big twist at the end is that we the audience are the final category of magic user! This is another chapter that's part two to a prior chapter not included in this book. Finally, the Kashmiri palmist Mir Bashir caps things off with a how-to on palm reading. Not bad, with some good little illustrations that were lacking in the rest of the chapters. But finally, we've come to the end, and none too soon!
Trudging through this uninspired morass, it's easy to see why Borderline didn't last. The trippy psychedelic cover art can't do anything to lift the dull prose inside, and after one underwhelming wonder too many we're ready to check out and head for the exits. A few bright spots only highlight the lows. One more thing though, before we go ... In Joseph Goodavage's otherwise worthless opening chapter, he makes a bold claim for the future. Goodavage says that in February of 1981, Jupiter and Saturn will conjunct in the sign of Libra, meaning that it's quite possible that another presidential assassination will occur at that time. Ronald Reagan was shot in March of 1981. Close enough for the space age science, or another misfire at the Borderline? If you're still undecided, you can peruse a full issue online with contributions from some of those featured today.
Paperback Library, 1971 (original pub. 1966)
You had me at the FictionMag index. Your research is beyond thorough. Are you a human computer? Are you actually a hidden article in Borderline?
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