“Well, you know, ma’m, Night Letters isn’t really that kind of talk show. We’re not a controversy program.”
“It was in a comic book.”
“We were off the track there for a while, but we’ve been trying to—”
“There was this ad.”
“Look, if it’s a commercial product, the FCC won’t—”
“Oh, for God’s sake, Mr. Gibson!”
“We’re not allowed to—”
“Listen to me, will you? Something’s got to be done about this. Children mustn’t—”
“Even if this is a war-toys thing I couldn’t—”
“It’s an ad. You mail in two dollars. They send pamphlets. They tell you how to do things. How to put together a zip gun and make your own bullets. ‘How to coat the blade of an ordinary pocket knife with one of the deadliest poisons known to man.’ I’m quoting from the ad. This is intended for children, Mr. Gibson. Do you have children? Just listen to this part. ‘Our instruction booklet—’”
“I have no chil—”
“‘—teaches you the secret of preparing an acid from ingredients normally available on your own front lawn. This acid, commonly known as eye acid, is from a formula long known only to the Seminole Indians, the only tribe in the United States never to sign a peace treaty with the American government. If so much as a single drop of this potent substance were to come into contact with the eye, vision would be permanently destroyed. Seeks out and destroys the optic nerve on contact! The fumes alone can impair vision for periods of up to ten years. Only your enemies need worry! Included in the booklet are simple directions for the mild antidote which completely protects you from the acid yourself. This is but one of the many exciting poisons described in our simple-to-follow manual. Never an offer like it! The directions are so clear that if you have ever baked a cake or even read a recipe you can make any one of the thirty deadly acids and poisons thoroughly and completely explained in this guide. Be as powerful as the cruelest murderers in history! The secrets of the Borgias! Know nature’s other face, unlock the awful powers of chemistry! For mere pennies we can show you how to concoct a poison so toxic that just one cupful thrown into the water supply is enough to debilitate a community of 100,000 persons. The powers of epidemic in your hands! Useful for the destruction of pesky animals! Protect your loved ones!’ That’s only part of it. Shall I go on? There’s worse, if you can imagine.”
Dick was excited, but something urged him to be prudent; he had to seem detached. He understood that his discretion had nothing at all to do with the new policy of the program, that it was important and useful to him personally.
He had to hear more, however. “Well, you know, dear,” he said mildly, “that’s kind of a wild ad, but I don’t really think our kids will be very interested in that sort of thing. They’re a pretty sensible bunch, most of them. Gosh, for every kid who goes wrong that you read about in the papers there must be ten thousand minding their own business and trying to get good grades.”
“Mr. Gibson, this is vicious. I’ve never heard of anything so vicious.”
“Oh, well,” he said, “we’ve got another few minutes, I suppose. If you want to tell us some of the rest, I guess we can cut a minute or so out of the theme music.” He spoke lazily and blandly, conscious that a tape recorder was taking down everything he said.
“Listen to this,” she said, “tell me there’s nothing wrong with a world where this sort of thing can get printed. I’m quoting: ‘In addition to the pamphlet on poisons we have prepared a useful handbook on the assembly of handguns, small bombs and the infamous Molotov Cocktail, together with a section on how to make volatile powders and explosives in the privacy of your own home from chemicals sold over the counter for pennies. For those who send in their money now we will include at no extra charge an additional booklet, the top-secret Commandos’ Bible, an indispensable guide to the deadly methods of the heroic commandos of World War II. Be prepared! Available nowhere else! Fully illustrated, as are all the pamphlets in this exciting new series! THE VIOLENT DEVICES THAT HELPED TO WIN THE WAR REVEALED AND EXPLAINED: the garrote, napalm, the plastic bomb, along with the new silent time bomb impossible to detect. This light (two pounds), lethal instrument can be slipped into the luggage of an unsuspecting traveler and preset to go off anywhere from forty-five minutes to three hours after his plane has taken off or his train has left the station. No ticking! Totally silent! When you discover the secret of how it’s done you’ll laugh that no one ever thought of it before.’ It’s all like that, Mr. Gibson. It makes me sick just to read it. And it’s so anonymous. You don’t even know who’s behind it. They just give a post-office box number.”
“I’ve got to admit,” Dick Gibson said, “it sounds a lot worse than the B-B guns they used to advertise in those books when I was a kid. I’m no expert, and this is just a lay opinion, mind you, but off the top of my head I don’t see how it can be legal.”
“They’ve got this disclaimer.”
“Oh? They’ve got a disclaimer, do they?”
“At the bottom of the ad.”
“Oh?”
“‘For educational purposes only. Not responsible for any bodily injury which may occur.’”
“Say,” Dick said, “that’s pretty clever. That’s how they get around it, is it? Whoops, I see we’ve just about run out of time.”
His director put the theme music on, and while the first few bars were playing Dick took her off the air and spoke casually into the phone. “Say,” he said, “I’d like to see a copy of that ad. Why don’t you send it to me? I’ve got this friend on the Attorney General’s staff in Tallahassee. I’ll look it over and if it seems as bad as you make it sound I’ll see that he gets a copy of it with my personal letter. What do you say?” His hands were trembling. “Will you send it to me?”
“Yes,” she said, “that’s a good idea. I’ll put it in the mail today.”
“Good deal,” he said. “Got to run now. Got to sign this ole program off the air.”
His thought was that here at last was something he could do. There was too much suffering. Too much went wrong; victims were everywhere. That was your real population explosion. There was mindless obsession, concentration without point, offs and ups, long life’s niggling fractions, its Dow-Jones concern with itself. What had his own life been, his interminable apprenticeship which he saw now he could never end? And everyone blameless as himself, everyone doing his best but maddened at last, all, all zealous, all with explanations ready at hand and serving an ideal of truth or beauty or health or grace. Everyone — everyone. It did no good to change policy or fiddle with format. The world pressed in. It opened your windows. All one could hope for was to find his scapegoat, to wait for him, lurking in alleys, pressed flat against walls, crouched behind doors while the key jiggles in the lock, taking all the melodramatic postures of revenge. To be there in closets when the enemy comes for his hat, or to surprise him with guns in swivel chairs, your legs dapperly crossed when you turn to face him, to pin him down on hillsides or pounce on him from trees as he rides by, to meet him on the roofs of trains roaring on trestles, or leap at him while he stops at red lights, to struggle with him on the smooth faces of cliffs, national monuments, chasing him round Liberty’s torch, or up girders of bridges, or across the enormous features of stone presidents. To pitch him from ski lifts and roller coasters, to Normandy his ass and guerrilla his soul. To be always in ambush at the turnings in tunnels, or wrestle him under the tides of the seas. Gestures, gestures, saving gestures, life-giving and meaningless and sweet as appetite, delivered by gestures and redeemed by symbols, by necessities of your own making and a destiny dreamed in a dream. To be free — yes, existential and generous.