The Midnight Murderer

36545067-Double-Action_Detective_pulp_magazine_cover_illustration_for_the_January_1939_issue thumbnail
Double Action Detective January 1939 thumbnail
36545067-Double-Action_Detective_pulp_magazine_cover_illustration_for_the_January_1939_issue
Double Action Detective January 1939

Also includes Crime In The Dynway, whatever that is.

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Vortex Science Fiction #1

Vortex Science Fiction No.1 1953

The first of only two issues, this entire issue can be downloaded here

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The Woman You Wanted

Future Science Fiction No. 36 (April,1958). Cover by Ed Emsh thumbnail
Future #36 April 1958 thumbnail
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Future_#36_045_ thumbnail
Future Science Fiction No. 36 (April,1958). Cover by Ed Emsh
Future #36 April 1958
Future_#36_007_
Future_#36_045_

This entire issue can be downloaded here

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Captain Sheffield: Human Guinea Pig In A Freezing Vat

Man To Man Magazine June 1961

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They Thirst By Night

Dime Mystery June 1935

Also featuring Satan’s Mistress

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I Remember Lemuria

Amazing Stories cover, March 1945 thumbnail
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Amazing Stories cover, March 1945
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Sensational ‘Racial Memory’ story

This entire issue can be downloaded here

Racial Memory was a concept very much in vogue at the start of the 20th century. Robert E Howard’s poem ‘Cimmeria’ is one of my favorite examples.

I remember
The dark woods, masking slopes of sombre hills;
The grey clouds’ leaden everlasting arch;
The dusky streams that flowed without a sound,
And the lone winds that whispered down the passes.

Vista on vista marching, hills on hills,
Slope beyond slope, each dark with sullen trees,
Our gaunt land lay. So when a man climbed up
A rugged peak and gazed, his shaded eye
Saw but the endless vista – hill on hill,
Slope beyond slope, each hooded like its brothers.

It was a gloomy land that seemed to hold
All winds and clouds and dreams that shun the sun,
With bare boughs rattling in the lonesome winds,
And the dark woodlands brooding over all,
Not even lightened by the rare dim sun
Which made squat shadows out of men; they called it
Cimmeria, land of Darkness and deep Night.

It was so long ago and far away
I have forgot the very name men called me.
The axe and flint-tipped spear are like a dream,
And hunts and wars are shadows. I recall
Only the stillness of that sombre land;
The clouds that piled forever on the hills,
The dimness of the everlasting woods.
Cimmeria, land of Darkness and the Night.

Oh, soul of mine, born out of shadowed hills,
To clouds and winds and ghosts that shun the sun,
How many deaths shall serve to break at last
This heritage which wraps me in the grey
Apparel of ghosts? I search my heart and find
Cimmeria, land of Darkness and the Night.

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The Mole Men Want Your Eyes

Horror Stories Magazine - April-May 1938 thumbnail
Horror Stories - April-May 1938 thumbnail
Horror Stories Magazine - April-May 1938
Horror Stories - April-May 1938

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