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No. 11, October 27, 1967, p. 17


René is so overwhelmed by your hunger for Truth ... and all those adorable letters! "slander", "libellous crap" ... anyway, always ready to please:

Poor Andy Whorhole ... it seems two meth freaks held him up at his infamous 47th St factory. Firing two warning shots in the air to subdue his protection crew, they proceded to strip the poor darling of all his personal belongings including his famous one way sun glasses, sandals, bananas, dirty movies, colored contact lenses, the silver wig, the green glass eye, gold-filled false teeth, and eighty nine dollars in cash. There was hardly enough left of him to carry home in a Bonwit Teller shopping bag. Andy, your bad karma is showing ....

Speaking of bad karma, Mayor Baba is about to break his twenty five years of silence. It is rumored that he's going to tell Mel Lyman to "shove it" and that he has been trying to get this message through to Mel via telepathic interpreters — but good old Mel challenged the mayor to tell it to his face and I quote,"If he isn't man enough to tell it to my face then he ought to keep his goddamned mouth shut". Mr. Baba was so overwhelmed by the honest simplicity of Mel's words that he agreed to face Mel on international television and utter those first precious little paroles before the whole world. It should be quite a spectacular as Mel has even gone so far as to say that if those first words are the Song of Truth he will turn his entire army over to the Mayor. Mayor Baba will wear ivory white robes and carry red roses. Mr. Lyman will wear black chino pants and a genuine leopard skin jacket. Anyway, loves, watch for it in your T.V. Guide.

More about Mel — (I seem to keep harping, but wherever Mel is there's dirty gossip...) Mel and his latest, the ex-Chelsea girl known only as Pepper, Joey Goldfarb, the lurid astrologer from Boston, Jane DeLong, the president's ex-wife, and Lewis S.W. Crampton who is an undercover C.I.A. agent, are all being flown to Munich next week for the opening of, get this, a psychedelic ratskeller. They will represent the youth and culture of the US. in an open televised debate facing five young Germans. Can you imagine. . "Wie heissen sie?" says Hans. "What did he say?" says Mel, "He said, what's your name", says the interpreter. "Tell him I'm the Truth" says Mel... etc.

The darkly voluptuous superstar, Ronna Page's metier is seducing swamis, and there's more and more work for her every day. Everyone's off to see the Master these days. The Beatles, Shirley MacClaine, Mrs. Frank Sinatra (that's Mia), Kandy Kane, Bobby Vinton are all looking for someone to help them on the journey to spiritual salvation. Can't you just see it! In a few years everyone will be going to their "psychia-christ" to the tune of seventy love — dollars an hour. But as long as our lovely Ronna is around, she'll weed out the swamis who are not bent on salvation but are bent over something else.

And while we're at it, I hear that Svetlana Stalin, aside from having "famous-Daddy" hang-ups, also has enormous "needs" and that everyone is doing their very damndest to fulfill them. Protocol is in a tizzy keeping it all out of the papers, putting it aside by calling it "all that marvelous Russian vitality" — after all there was a time she had the whole Russian army at her disposal. Perhaps, Catherine the Great coming to mind, an Arabian stallion might be of some use...

Due to all the letters of protest, I wish to make a correction: Nancy Sinatra is NOT a faggot, he's a dike.

Lots of love and french kisses,

P.S. Guess what they found on Venus! Millions and millions of little iddy-biddy Hubert Humphreys!!!

Mel Lyman