HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_015073.jpg

The AAAA sponsored the Ism Forum, where anybody could speak
about any “ism” of their choice. I invited a few friends to meet me there.
The event was held in a dingy hotel ballroom. There was a small platform
with a podium at one end of the room and heavy wooden folding chairs
lined around the perimeter. My favorite speaker declared the Eleventh
Commandment: “Thou shalt not take thyself too goddamned seriously.”
Taking that as my unspoken theme, I got up and parodied the previous
speakers. The folks there were mostly middle-aged and elderly. They
seemed to relish the notion of fresh young blood in their movement.

However, my companions weren’ t interested in staying. If I had left
with them that evening in 1953, the rest of my life could have taken a
totally different path. Instead, I went along with a group to a nearby
cafeteria, where I learned about the New York Rationalist Society. A whole
new world of disbelief was opening up to me. That Saturday night I went
to their meeting. The emcee was a former circus performer who
entertained his fellow rationalists by putting four golf balls into his mouth.
He also recommended an anti-censorship paper, The Independent.

The next week, I went to their office to subscribe and get back
issues. I ended up with a part-time job, stuffing envelopes for a dollar an
hour. My apprenticeship had begun. The editor, Lyle Stuart, was the most

HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_015073