I need to buy something real silly on eBay so I put the "beggar's banner" up. If you're the kind of person who feels good when he or she tips a website, here's your opportunity to feel good. I'll take the banner down when I get enough to pay for my purchase.
The Associated Press obit for Forry Ackerman gives him a middle name of James...but does give his name as "Forrest J Ackerman" without the period. Forry sometimes made a big deal about how he had no middle name other than the letter "J" so either he'd changed it from James to "J" or A.P. is wrong. I'm guessing the former.
Forrest J Ackerman died late last night, two minutes before the Witching Hour. Though the science-fiction community has been on Deathwatch for years now, it's still in a way surprising. (And by the way, that was his name — Forrest J Ackerman. The "J" didn't stand for anything so there's no period after it. Watch all the obits get it wrong.)
Forry, as everyone called him, was a unique individual — an editor, writer, agent, occasional actor and a big historian of science-fiction and monster movies. More accurately, he was a professional fan. Born November 24, 1916, he began collecting fantasy magazines and pulps at age 10 and was present and quite involved in the founding of what we now call science-fiction fandom. Many people cite The Time Traveller, a mimeographed newsletter published in 1932 by future comic book editors Mort Weisinger and Julius Schwartz as the first s-f "fanzine." That first issue featured an article by a teenage Forrest J Ackerman.
The first known American s-f fan convention was held in New York in 1939 and Forry was present. He continued to write or agent work in the genre — and supposedly coined the slang term, "sci-fi" — but he came into his own in 1958 with the founding of Famous Monsters of Filmland. Published by James Warren, the bizarre magazine drew on Ackerman's by-then extensive collection of photos and his connections within the world of science-fiction and horror films...but Ackerman was more than its editor. He was to Famous Monsters what Hugh Hefner was to Playboy — a spokesperson and figurehead, around whose life the entire publication was fashioned.
His enthusiasm for the material gave the magazine a flavor that its many imitators couldn't match. They could print the same stills, interview most of the same interviewees...but they lacked the Secret Ingredient, which was Ackerman. He was as much a star of the publication as Bela Lugosi, loading each issue with monster puns and jokes to the delight of a young and loyal male demographic. Many who grew up on it still refer to him as Uncle Forry, including no small number who became authors or filmmakers and credit the influence of Ackerman.
Famous Monsters lasted until 1983, though Forry left it before then when declining sales made it no longer worth his time. It helped him grow his fame and his amazing collection but it was never his main source of income. That came from agenting, writing and editing other materials, mainly of a science-fiction nature. He was briefly involved in a revival of the magazine in the nineties but that relationship ended in a loud and bitter lawsuit.
I first met Forry when I paid the first of what turned out to be several visits to his fabled "Ackermansion" — his home, though portions of it resembled a museum of science-fiction and horror. This was in the late sixties when he still resided on Sherbourne Drive in Beverly Hills...in what was a playground for anyone interested in macabre books and movies. My interests in those areas were never as fervent as some but still, to me and everyone, Forry was a great host, always available to answer questions or discuss fannish pursuits. Later, the Ackermansion relocated to a nicer home in Los Feliz and I visited there a few times, somehow regretting the classier surroundings.
Forry had his detractors — in some cases because of the image he put forth of science-fiction fandom; in other cases, due to various business-type relationships. I have no interest in getting involved in those arguments, especially now when his friends and admirers are in mourning. Some are probably in shock, as Forry always seemed immortal in some death-mocking manner.
For at least the last ten years, we've been hearing that he would pass "any day now," and somehow — I don't know how he did it but vampirism has been suggested — he seemed to keep showing up at the Comic-Con International and other conventions. For the last month or two, various websites have prematurely reported his death, and I'm told this greatly amused him. This time, I'm afraid, it's for real.
Those close to Forry saw him through some rocky times, including the sale of most of the famed Ackerman collection. He had long hoped some deep-pocketed institution would purchase it from him and establish a serious Museum of Science-Fiction and Horror but he eventually came to realize that was not going to happen. Items were sold off when he started to need cash, in part to finance the above-mentioned lawsuit, which he won big but never collected on.
Still, he seemed revitalized by that victory. His last few years, when he wasn't in a hospital, one could find him in a small apartment not far from where the Los Feliz Ackermansion had been located. As health permitted, he was available to any fan who wished to drop by, look at some remnants of the collection and hear the usual Ackerman anecdotes. My pal Scott Shaw! once proposed that after Forry died, we have him stuffed and then someone could take him to conventions and put him on display, with a tape recorder endlessly replaying the dozen-or-so stories we heard him tell again and again. I still don't think that's a bad idea...and from what I could tell, Forry didn't seem to think it was all that bad an idea, either.
The post mortem on truTV (formerly CourtTV) is that Simpson's lawyers did a great job for him and that the judge did a great job following the letter of the law. Galanter's saying he's delighted because he was afraid of a much longer sentence. But then he's also saying that (a) the judge was excellent and smart and wise and (b) that he expects to win appeals because he believes the whole verdict was wrong. Just how is that possible? If the verdict should be overturned, doesn't that mean the judge screwed up?
As I'm writing this, Galanter is saying that he expects Simpson's first parole hearing should "do well for him." That's in nine years. He's also saying that this case was lost after jury selection because he didn't get to challenge some people he wanted to challenge.
I dunno. If I'd just been sentenced to a minimum of nine years in prison (with a possible maximum of 33), I don't think I'd be happy to have my lawyer out there suggesting that's a low sentence, given what I did, and that he never really had a chance to win the case for me.
Fifteen years. Yeah, that's about right...for this. As a sentence for two murders, it's a little light...but that's not what this one was about, is it?
All the lawyers are going on and on, arguing for mercy and leniency. In a case this visible, where the judge knows the world is watching and that every possible angle for appeal is going to be attempted, is there a chance that any last minute statement is going to cause her to impulsively knock a few years off the sentence she's decided upon?
Simpson just made a speech on his own behalf that said, essentially, "I didn't think what I was doing was a crime." General rule of thumb: When you're trying to seize property and you bring guns along, it's a crime.
And just as Galanter is making the argument that the sentencing in this case should not be "payback" for the verdict in the earlier case, the courtroom cameras finally get a shot of Fred and Kim Goldman sitting there...
One of Simpson's lawyers, Mr. Grasso, just delivered a history lesson to the judge, telling a story about the mercy that John Quincy Adams once showed someone. Now, his lead attorney, Yale Galanter, is telling the judge how much he admires her and that his client's actions were "beyond stupidity." The look on Simpson's face now is one of amazment that he's paying for this.
I'm trying to "read" the expression on Simpson's face. It looks like he's pretty well resigned to the fact that his life is ruined. It's basically the same look that George W. Bush had on his face a half-hour ago when he was talking about today's new unemployment figures.
I'm watching the pre-sentencing arguments. It's starting to feel like a maximum sentence. I'm kinda hoping that if Simpson gets life, he leaps to his feet and screams in outrage, "Life? Hey, I killed two people and I didn't get life!"
From 1959 (or thereabouts), it's Smacksie the Kellogg's Sugar Smacks Seal making our breakfast a happier meal. I think that's Art Gilmore, the most prolific announcer in the history of mankind, doing the voiceover in the middle.
December 6, 2008
