34 th street vol 4 - number 7- 1971-09-16 (sam peckinpah)

8/20/2019 34 Th Street Vol 4 - Number 7- 1971-09-16 (sam peckinpah)

1/12

vo om

Numh

eptem er

6

They

hoot

Westerns on t

they


2/12

Page

34th treet

Magaz

.

iVtreetnoise

Coming

out

of

the

woodwork

What's

that

bub? Y uh say

you're tired

an d lonely

an d

need

a

rest? Y uh say

th e

world, the whole ba d blue world, has th e

trump card a yuh can't wi n

rick?

Huh?

Y uh say

yuh

ead all

he

mags h is

summer,

huh?

A ll

th e

Harvard

an d

Yale

grads

are

working in taxis an d factories.

Easy life, huh? Nine to five, no worries,

no

hassles.

Nice

pay,

no

fortune,

but

nice

pay,

enough

o

live

on.

Eno u g h

for

a

ki d

if

th e

wife

works.

Nice

life,

n ot

fancy, but

nice.

Sounds

good

bub, sounds mighty fine.

Consider

he

as e of

Harry

Brandt,

professional

bugm an .

Or

exterminator.

Married,

w o,

maybe

hree,

hildren.

If

you're

Harry you get up six-thirty,

maybe

seven,

each

mo rning ,

ix

days

a

week.

he ife ooks

reakfast, ou

shower. Over

to

the office to

pick

up

th e

truck nd eet ou r

artner,

oh n

McGettrick.

Load

on

oday's upply

of

hydrochloric,

ug

omb,

DT ,

at

poison.

Tie do-rag over your head o

keep the tics off. Go

out

in the

morning,

kill

yourself

ifteen

illion

ugs. at

lunch. Kill a few million mo re , poison a

few rat

nests.

Then back

h o me

an d

relax.

No

worry. Just elax.

Easy

life.

Right?

Wro ng .

On he mo rning of June

9 ,

H a r r y heads

out

o

o

is

hing

n

Fo x

Chase,

a peaceful ittle

ection

of

Nor-

theast

hiladelphia.

ew

ugs, ew

bucks.

om s upposed

o

o

nt o

suburban

cellar,

find

some

termites

an d

wipe

them

out

this mo rning .

John and

you

arrive

about 9

A.M.

Mrs.

Tobin, he

ermite-ridden

omeowner,

opens

the

cellar

and you go to

work.

Y ou

know

he

ob

ell,

n d

ou

no w

precisely where the poison

holes

have

to

be

drilled. There are

boxes

in

th e

w ay , so

you 1 1 move them. Can't work in

cramped

quarters.

afety

irst.

he boss ould

like

that. A nd

besides,

you

wouldn' t

want

to

damage

the

client's

property.

No , ir .

Move

he boxes.

Harry never go t th e termites. On e of

the boxes -b ane of hi s peaceful,

quiet

life

- ell pen.

arry iscovered,

olice

later said,

as

the argest

cache

f

guns, explosives n d mmunition ever

found

n

he Philadelphia

area."

Later

yet

hey

w ere o

describe

t

as

N o

comment."

Specifically,

Harry discovered:

-100

ifles,

on e

an

M-16;

-17 machine

guns;

- Thompson u b mac h ine gun;

- 80 h a n d guns;

- 0,000

o u nds

of small

arms

m -

munition;

-

3

alf-pound

blocks of

TNT;

-

Sevi.-al 7. 5

mm Russian

shells;

- Tw o cases

of

Chinese

ommunist

stick-type grenades;

A couple of German made

rockets

and rocket uel;

-

he

ndercarriage

or

mall

howitzer;

O ne

mortar.

Y ou

ee,

he

oxes arry _Jpund

belonged to George Fassnacht, a friend

of

Mrs.

Tobias.

George

Fassnacht used to

belong

o

he

ballistics

ivision

of he

Philadelphia

olice

epartment.

ow ,

George

Fassnacht belongs to the Central

Intelligence

gency.

e's

ecret-

agent-man,

on

secret gency n

Hon g-

Kong.

Actually

Harry

nd

he

est

of

s

aren't

sure

George is in

th e

CIA.

H e was

up

until a year ago, but then supposedly

resigned.

ttorney nthony

eruto

explains:

If

e

was

mployed

by

he

CIA

he

would no t

be in a position

to

say

so, nd f

e

s

ot

mployed by h em,

then

t

has

o

bearing.

ot

hat 'm

trying

to give

th e

mpression

e s em-

ployed or

is

no t

employed

by

the

agency.

I

can't

sa y anything.

Certain

clearances

have

to

be

gotten." An yhow,

let's

pretend

he's still an gent.

Poor

arry.

ll

ecause f im,

George

has

to

fly

back

from H o n g

Kong.

A ll ecause

f him, he

whole olice

'lepartment s embarassed

as

eruto

notes, "This

s case of

Gimbels

ot

telling Macy's.")

ll

ecause f im ,

maybe

ve n ichard

ixon

s

m -

barassed.

Harry

isn't

quite

sure

of w hy

th e CIA

has

guns a n d bullets an d mortars in Fo x

Chase. Maybe hey're planning nother

invasion

f

ub a rom he chuylkill

River.

Maybe

hey're

planning

o

give

them

to

police

n case

of

a

iot Maybe

they're

planning

to

give them

to

rioters

so

police

will

have

an excuse to

bust

th e shit

out f he

ioters

aybe t's n a se

mother

ountry

s nvaded.

ut Harry

Brandt allows as ho w

"the

th ing

preyed

on

my mind

...we were

never

allowed

to

assemble that much T N T

in on e place in

Korea."

H e

oesn't no w

why,

but

e

can't relax

n y

more.

H e

can't

forget.

Th e

ewspapers an, hough. nd

George ssnacht an. hey top

printing

new s about

it

all. H e

hasn't

come

to trial yet. T h e

books

seem to be closing

fast

an d

tight

on

th e

Case

of

the

Careful

Bu g man.

Sounds good bub, sounds

mig h ty fine.

but I just don' t kno w .

-J OHN

RILEY

BMfc

»fc»L

th e

magazine

of

th e daily

pennsylvanian

Voluma

Number

September

4.

97 1

PETER

G L 1 C K

Associate

Editor

JAMES

SCHAFFER

Assistant Editor

KENNETH

SALIKOF

Cinema

Editor

BA RRYBROW N

Cuioe Editor

R O B E R T WEMISCHNER

Art

Editor

ELLIS

WEINER

Editor-in-Chief

KEN SCHONffALTER

Photography

Editor

JEFF

PRETSFELDE

Businetr

Manager

PETER

J.

SUKIN

Advertising

Manage

MAtTDONNELL

GORDO

Cover rt b y

EN

OIRARO

usic

Editor

Pr>to

by

KEN

CHONWALTER

MARK

HOSENBALL

Theatre

Editor

STEVEN WINN

Literary *nd Book

Review

Edit

STAFF:

ater

aum,

Pater

loch,

Judy

Brumll,

CoJten

Doughtily,

Sherry

i n e ,

Barbara

Flanagan,

Barry

Franton,

Mike

Greanbarg,

Marion

Kahn, Richard

Kkrinmen,

Patricia L o e b , Robert

Pierpont ,

David

Psalth,

John

Rilty.

Marion Sandmaier, John Sh annon. Ro b Steeg,

Jul ia

Steel*.

Nancy

tain,

aan

u rkin.

Travis

ory. e l en

orell i ,

alerie

W ac ki .

34th Street m a g a z i n e s published Thursday at Philadelphia. P a. during the tall

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Articles. Inquiries, tetters to

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ditor, n d d v e r t i s i n g may

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September 4,

97 )

P » g e »

oks

Forward

n to

h e Past

By

O H N RILEY

BOSS

by

Mike

Royko,

E.P.

Dutton

Co.,

2 15

pages.

"R ,

you're

rare;

I,

you're

important;

C,

ou're ourageous;

,

ou're

heavenly; . ou're

ble;

, ou're

renowned;

D, you're democratic;

, s

for your

being

a

joy

to

know;

D, you're

diligent;

A,

you're

dorable;

L,

you're

loyal;

E,

you're energetic;

an d

Y, yov're

youthful."

-Chicago

City

Council to Mayor Daley

Jimmy

Breslin,

reviewing

BOM,

calls

it

"the

best

book

ever written

about

a

city

of

this

ountry."

n

a

ense

e's

ight.

Seldom

in

th e

past

ha s

a n author

exposed

in uch

etail,

nd

ith uch n-

cisiveness,

he

nner

orkings

f

n

urban

tyranny.

But ll

he

xpertise

xhibited

y

Mike

oyko

n

nd

f

tself

ails

o

qualitatively

istinguish

is book

rom

numerous

other

"city

stories" published

in

th e

last

decade.

Once

corruption

an d

proto-fascism

av e

been

xposed,

w ho

among th e general public cares to

have

it

exposed

in

more

detail?

Perhaps

th e real

problem s

Chicago:

h at

poor

city

ha s

been

th e site of so ma ny Armageddons in

modern

imes-the emocratic on-

ventions,

he

Chicago

Seven rial,

he

Weathermen's days

of

rage,

th e

Panther

slaughter -tha t

xposure

f

ven

he

grossest

viciousness

is

considered

passe.

"Well,

yes,

bu t

Daley's

mayor

there, an d

everyone

knows

he's

rotten."

Royko's

book as omething xtra.

Not only s he ocumentary spect of

Boss

utstanding, ut

t's

ethod

f

presentation, or , if

you

will,

structure,

is

equally valuable -an d this latter trait is

seldom

found

in

non-fiction.

Th e

ormat

sed

y

rstwhile-

columnist Royko is an extended joke,

or

comic skit, with th e

city

as th e

butt

an d

Mayor aley s

he

unchline. t

reminds

one

of

a

monologue

by

Johnny

Carson,

where h e says this is wrong, an d

that

wful

hing

appened

oday,

nd

isn't

this

team really

tragic,

but

now

do

you

wa nt

to

hear

something

funny?

For

instance,

Royko

devotes

a

section

of

hi s

book

to he

City

Council. He x-

plains

ow ll

he

lections

re

corrupted, an d how all

th e

wa rd iines a re

manipulated

for th e good o f

th e machine.

Then

wha t

a

vast number of

th °

alder-

me n

ar e

controlled

by

Daley,

wha t

will

happen f

he y

te p

out

f

ine.

Then

hizzoner's

ontrol

f

he

ouncil

meetings,

nd he

ne

articular

alderman wh o

"until is

death,

.-.could

be

expected to

leap

to hi s feet an d

every

meeting

an d

cry, Go d bless our mayor,

th e

greatest mayor in

th e

world.'

" Bu t

Daley ises bove

he whole

welter

of

MIKE

ROYKO

sordid

tyranny

an d

orruption

when,

t

on e

particularly

cri tical

council

meeting,

he nvokes

Robert's

Rules

of

Order s

"the greatest book ever written."

There

a re

other

xamples:

fter ll

th e

obscenity

of h e

onvention iots,

Daley

laimes

h at

e idn't all

Ab e

Ribicoff

fucker,"

e

alled

im

"faker,"

an d then

goes

o n

to

vehemently

Each

hursday,

5,000

REE

opies

f 4t h

TREET

re

distributed

at

erm,

rexel, Temple, Haverford,

ryn Mawr,

L a

Salle,

C A,

nd Moore

chool. We've ot

features,

oetry

an d eviews

f

music,

art,

cinema,

heater

nd

iterature.

We're

about

entertainment,

n ot

politics-so

w e

appeal

to

almost

all

college

t u d e n t s ,

onclusion:

W e are a

good

medium

for your advertising.

Call

JEFFPRETSFELDER

5 9 4 4 5 8 1 .

t should

be

worth

your

while

assert, "I never

used

tha t

language

in

my

life, an d you sa y that or anything

an d

you

lie,

you're

iar ;"

r

aley's

r ide

amidst

ll

he

orruption

f

is

d-

ministration

h at

I

ever

rank r

smoked n my

ife."

Th e

mayor

-

an d

only

he

mayor-can

lways

op is

most monumental absurdities with more

absurdities. he

Sayings

f

Chairman

Richard

ca n always

turn

th e

tragedy

of

a

city

into

comedy.

Royko

nd , nterestingly nough,

number

of h is

ellow rban

ew s

columnists, seem to have recently begun

indulging

n

idespread

isplay

f

black comedy,

or

gallows

humor.

In

th e

case

o f

Chicago,

one

recalls

th e

classic

example

of the form: a ma n, condemned

to ie, stands

on

he

allows

with

he

noose

ightened

round

is

eck. he

hooded

executioner

sk s

f

e

ha s

& . , y

last words. T h e

reply,

"Not r ight

now."

Our

best

journalists

-

Royko,

Breslin,

Pete

Hamill,

Nicholas von Hoffman, an d

Jack

McKinney -

echo

th e sentiments of

th e

ondemned

ma n

with

greater

nd

greater

frequency.

In

a

sense,

of

course,

these

men

are

simply

echoing

th e

taste

an d attitude of th e

public.

They need to

at t ract

readership, nd

pessimism

nd

black

uii.

re

n

vogue

mong

he

American

re idership

these

days.

But besides being refketers of public

sentiment, m en like Royko

also

help

to

form it. They

a re

among the most acute,

attentive

an d intelligent observers o f th e

urban ituation xtant. When

ll

ha t

such

ersonages

an

ffer s

s

depressing, egraded

acts,

nd

ome

macabre

jokes

o w e

an

augh

a t

he

horror

they

present,

t

is

clear that

th e

situation ha s gotten

out

of

control.

All

hi s essimism

as n

ddly

familiar

ing

n

hiladelphia

s

November approaches.

Chicago

ha s

Th e

Mayor, an d w e have Th e Commissioner.

I

even

read

n nquirer

olumnist

he

other

da y w h o praised Jim Tate

because

"the

only measure of

success in

politics

is

longevity." Sentimentally

recalling th e

loyalty

Tate

demanded -an d received -

from

is nderlings, he

olumnists

failed o

ention he

orruption,

nepotism n d

olice

brutality

of

hose

same years.

A t least Mr .

Royko,

despite

all hi s apparent

pessimism,

hasn't gotten

quite

that

resigned

to

things.

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Pharoh Sanders

Mandrill

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10/12

m

m

P age-10

J4th

treel Madel ine

alecta

Snapshots

of

h e

resident 's

body

By

L L I S

WEINER

Th e President s

wake

before

he

alarm

sounds.

He lies in bed.

He is very

tired.

"It is morning," he thinks. "Another

President orning.

orning

lready.

Time

to

get

up."

H is wife lies inert beside

him.

H e

does

no t speak to her. H e does no t turn to look

at er . e

oes

ot

isturb

er.

he

lighted

face

of the bedside clock

reveals

th e time to

be

ten

of

six. Th e Alarm will

begin

it s

insistent ping-ping-ping in

en

minutes.

"I am ired," he

President

hinks.

"And there

is

s o

much o do today,

o

very

much.

Meetings,

onferences,

telephones.

reetings,

edications,

limousines."

he

resident

oes ot

warn to get u p .

He

finds

hi s feet are on th e

floor.

H e is

sitting up before e as he hance

o

decide wha t

o

o.

Th e

larm

ounds:

ping...ping...ping...

He huts

it

off. H is

wife

does

no t stir.

"Dear," e ay s to her.

Dear. Ge t

up,

dear."

Sh e does no t

move.

Honey,

it's morning

again.

Get up." Sh e does not

stir.

• ••

H e cannot remember

a

w as no t

President.

H e

is

standing

in front of th e bathroom

mirror.

H is

face is lathered to

shave. "S o

that 's

wha t

th e

President

looks

like

when

he's

having," e

hinks.

H e un s he

razor over hi s

jaw.

Th e

blade is new; hi s

jaw bleeds in tiny red dots. H e wonders if

he

hould

row eard.

e

ecides

against it.

Th e President s ware ha t

people

l o o k

at

him. He sees them

watching

hi m

an d

h e

o o k s back. he

resident

s

aware

of

his

ow n face when

he

looks

at

things. H e

can

see

a

vague beige area

between hi s

eyes:

hi s nose. H e ca n see

a

pink glow:

is

heeks.

H e

as

always

seen hese hings. he y ave ot

changed.

T h e resident

ractices

miling

before a mirror. H e n o u - « < tha t th e

smile

does no t

l o o k

convincing unless th e

eyes

wrinkle. He

tries wrinkling th e

eyes

when

h e smiles. H is heeks droop. H e

s

ot

satisfied, an d

keeps

practicing.

Th e President

is

hungry. H e

pushes

a

button n

he onso'e n

is

esk.

A

moment ater

n

id e

nters he

President's

office;

hi s

feet make

no noise

on

th e

deep

blue

carpet

"Yes, sir?" asks th e aide.

"I'd, uh...wiU you have...would you go

order

me

a

pepperoni

pizza

nd

om e

beer? I'd

really

like

that"

"Yes,

sir.

Miller's?"

"What?"

"Miller High Life

Beer,

sir?"

"OH, Yes,

of

course.

Miller's."

"Certainly,

sir.

'll

be

back

n

about

half an hour."

"Thank

you."

"You're elcome, ir." he

id e

leaves.

There,

ow ,

he

resident

hinks.

Pizza. Those

id s

hould ee me eat

pizza, that would impress them.

Th e

President wonders

f

e

would

have

njoyed

mushroom or

nchovies

better.

But

it

is

too

late.

H is office terrifies him. It

is

too much,

he thinks. No one should be President. It

should be against th e

aw . That thought

makes

hi m laugh

an d

laugh,

until

tears

run

from

hi s

eyes.

time

when

h e

I l lustrat ions y

Travis

oly

H e

iries

to

keep

a

diary, an d

doesn't

know

where o

begin.

H e islikes

eporters.

he y oller,

an d

hey

are

weaty. hy

must

he y

follow im

round

o?

sn't

t

re e

country?

H e

laughs

at

that.

Children

annoy him.

He

s

bsessed

ith

nxiety

ver

caricatures f imself. n very

newspaper

they

bother

him.

He

looks

n

the

mirror

often

an d thinks,

Is

that

me?

W h o

s

h a t an ? s

ha t

a n

he

President,

or

am

I

TH E

President?

H e

is

confused an d

resentful.

H e wonders wh y

people

ca n be so

cruel.

A

pretty

girl is

introduced

to hi m at a

banquet.

Sh e

smiles

an d

blushes,

an d

th e

President wonders what

it

would be

like

to

sleep with

her.

As he shakes hands an d

smiles a n d

wrinkles

hi s eyes an d tries to

lift his

drooping

cheeks he thinks about

the irl's aked ody, er kin, er

breasts,

he r hair,

h er

ips, er

ongue,

he r

neck,

h er

hands,

he r

throat, he r

eyes,

he r

rms,

er

elly,

er highs,

er

crotch,

he r calves, he r feet,

er avel,

he r buttocks, he r fingers, he r

ars,

er

nose, he r back, he r shoulders, er hips,

he r

sighs,

he r

moans,

he r

fingernails,

he r

teeth, he r breath.

He

hears

her

laugh.

Th e

President is

suddenly

isgusted,

nd eats an

olive.

H is tomach urts,

nd e eels

foolish. He

tells

hi s

wife.

"Nonsense," sh e replies.

"Presidents

have

stomachs; hey're

allowed

to have

stomach

aches."

That makes hi m feel better.

Th e

pain

recedes. He plays golf.

The

barber

cutting

hi s

hair

emarks

that he

is

balding,

an d

hi s hair

is

greying.

Th e

President

njoys

hearing hat; e

feels

patriarchal.

"Yes," e

ay s o

he

arber.

"Sometimes think th e job gets to me."

Th e barber laughs. Th e President smiles.

In hurch

e uddenly

ecalls

magazine

article which mentioned

ha t

man y

people

hought

ha t

God

poke

English. h at ad ever occurred o

him;

e

ealizes

ha t

e,

oo,

ad

assumed

h a t God

poke

English.

e

wonders

ha t

lse

e ad

lways

assumed.


11/12

September

6.

97 1

H e

wa n ts

to

see

Lawrence

of

Arabia,

bu t

s afraid

o

go

o

heater where

people

will

recognize

hi m. H e

has

a

copy

of

th e

film

brought

to

his

private theater

an d

nvites

everal

olleagues

nd

fr iends

to

th e

screening. Th e fourteen

of

them

wa tch

the

w id e

screen,

th e

desert,

th e camels,

he

sand,

he

ighting,

he

dust , the

Arabs,

an d

the

killing.

After

th e

film the President s

hirsty.

H e has abolutely no sexual desire for

his

wife.

Th e

t hought

makes

hi m

saa.

A horrifying

de a

s

brewing

n

he

President's

head,

but

it is still

vague.

He

cannot quite

nterpret t. Bu t

e

eels

uneasy.

It

occurs

to

hi m w h e n

he

is

in

the

bathroom.

H e

won d e r s

w h a t

it would

be

like to be

addicted

to heroin. T h e idea makes h im

shud d e r .

H e

deliberately

w ea

ight coats n,

th e old

winter weather.

H is

physician

warns

hi m

about

hi s health. Th e

President

smiles.

He s ating more

n d

ore.

is

physician

warns

hi m

about

hi s heart. Th e

President smiles,

offers

is

physician

Miller's.

Pegell

Th e President

cannot

listen

to

music,

cannot

ead books.

T h ey

bore

im . He

reads

summaries of

ew s

rom

r oun d

Th e World

which

his aides

ype for him

each day.

T he

resident

elishes

tching

is

toes.

H e

looks for wa r d , each

vening,

to

sitting

in solitude

on

th e

edge

of

hi s

bed,

slipping ff is hoes,

nd

irmly

kneading

is

oe s

with is

ands.

e

stares at

th e

floor, hi s eyes do no t focus

on

n y particular object.

is

mind

s

blank.

There

s

only

he kneading

nd

scratching,

kneading

an d scratching.

H is

fingers

ecome uite dept t

manipulating

is

oes;

his

ingers

ee k

ou t

uni tched parts

of

th e

skin between th e

toes,

a r oun d

the

toes,

an d

on

the

soles

of

the

feet.

H e

usually

leaves

his

socks

on .

In

summer

it

is

best.

His

ee t

sweat ,

an d

h ey

tch

ore.

n

inter

he

athlete's

oo t

lmost

isappears.

he

President

likes he summer.

Often

e ears

way

he

oist,

crumpling

skin

until

hi s

foot

bleeds.

An d

in

the

shower

the

exposed part

of

Ms

feet

sting.

Bu t

it

feels

very

good o

scratch,

an d

he

President enjoys t.

• ••

H e

s

moody. H is wife s no

help.

•

• •

Golf seems pointless.

• • •

H e

considers

wri t ing

is

memoires.

H e

oe s

not know

ow o

begin.

Th e

President

has

athlete's

oot, n d

tries

to

hide it

from his physician. When

th e doctor

discovers

it ,

he

applies to

it

an

ointment,

nd

gives

the

President

a

can

of powder o

apply each mor n i n g .

T he

President places

the

can in th e

medicine

cabinet ,

nd gnores

it.

Y O U

M A Y

W IN

A

Q U E E N

S I Z E

W A T E R - M A T T R E S S

f r om

P H I L A ' S

L A R G E S T

&

F I N E S T

S E L E C T I O N

O F W A T E R B E D S

k i n o

j

u

m

b

o

r o u n d

q u e e n

d o u b l e

s i n g l e

a l s o

w a t e r

c h a i r s , p i l l o w s &

c r i b s

P R I C E S

. F R O M

S 2 9 . T Q

$ 3 2 5 .

H e

writes memo

o is

omestic

staff. t

eads:

"I just

w a n t

yo u

al l

to

know that you

ar e doing a

splendid

job.

It

isn't

easy,

as

you

k n ow, being President,

an d

my

wife

an d

I

are

very

most

appreciative of th e

manner

in

which

yo u

have

been

carrying

out your

obs."

Th e

me mo oun d s pompous

o

im .

Then

e

ooks

n

he

irror

nd

remembers

hat e s resident; e

dispatches th e

me mo.

B f e hav e a

b e a u t i n i l s e l e c t i o n o f

a n d -

f i n i s h e d

w o o d e n

r a m e s

m a d e

to y o u r

o r d e r

R I N G

THIS

O U P O N

O

aqua-rest

waferbeds

638

south

street

phila.

p a.

wo 59320 O N E P E R P E R S O N

PREGNANT?

NEED

HELP?

Y O U R

U E ST I O NS

ON

A B O R T I O N

CAN ONLY B6

FU1Y

ANSWERED

f/

PROFESSONALS

CALL

(215)

878-5800

24

hours

— 7 days

FO R

TOTALLY

CONF ID -

ENTIAL

I N FORMAT ION

Lega l Abortions

Without

Delay

H e

has

just

stepped

from

th e

shower.

As

e

ries imself,

e

egards

is

dripping hairy flabby

body.

Bu t h ij s

mine,"

e

says

quickly

o

imself.

e

suddenly

tops,

is

eart

ounding

furiously.

H e

s orrified.

e

apses

nt o

depression.

Ur"lS

ma

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9 -5


12/12

34 th street vol 4 - number 7- 1971-09-16 (sam peckinpah)

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