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identification of Michael Moorcock

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  • identification of Michael Moorcock

    My brother and I were in London in late summer 1958 and spent time with a young Michael Moorcock. We hung out at The House of Sam Widges and spent at least one night with him and his mom out in Surry. I have a couple of photos of that Michael Moorcock. I have the suspicion that MY Michael Moorcock and THE Michael Moorcock are one and the same. How can I determin whether I am accurate in my surmise?
    Thanks for any help.
    Michael Neil

  • #2
    Re: identification of Michael Moorcock

    Originally posted by artfulm
    My brother and I were in London in late summer 1958 and spent time with a young Michael Moorcock. We hung out at The House of Sam Widges and spent at least one night with him and his mom out in Surry. I have a couple of photos of that Michael Moorcock. I have the suspicion that MY Michael Moorcock and THE Michael Moorcock are one and the same. How can I determin whether I am accurate in my surmise?
    Thanks for any help.
    Michael Neil
    Compare them to this image.

    [image moved]
    The cat spread its wings and flew high into the air, hovering to keep pace with them as they moved cautiously toward the city. Then, as they climbed over the rubble of what had once been a gateway and began to make their way through piles of weed-grown masonry, the cat flew to the squat building with the yellow dome upon its roof. It flew twice around the dome and then came back to settle on Jhary's shoulder. - The King of the Swords

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    • #3
      This photo of Mike is dated 1957:

      [image moved]

      As far as I know, it's the only photo of a pre-beardy Moorcock in general circulation.
      _"For an eternity Allard was alone in an icy limbo where all the colours were bright and sharp and comfortless.
      _For another eternity Allard swam through seas without end, all green and cool and deep, where distorted creatures drifted, sometimes attacking him.
      _And then, at last, he had reached the real world – the world he had created, where he was God and could create or destroy whatever he wished.
      _He was supremely powerful. He told planets to destroy themselves, and they did. He created suns. Beautiful women flocked to be his. Of all men, he was the mightiest. Of all gods, he was the greatest."

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      • #4
        He's a wrong 'un, that one. I've seen 'im coming in the shop with those friends of 'is, buying fireworks... lord knows what they get up to with them things... cheeky bugger...

        Ahem. Sorry about that. :oops:
        "That which does not kill us, makes us stranger." - Trevor Goodchild

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        • #5
          "Shooting flamin' arrers at pet-rol (note glottal stop) stashuns, 'swot I 'eard..."

          Mike lived in Mitcham, which was in Surrey in those days: does that ring any bells, artfulm? :roll: He would have been nineteen or twenty in '58.

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          • #6
            That's a really early laptop he's using in that photo. And look! He's writing so damn' fast, his pen's caught fire and is smouldering!

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            • #7
              There can't be that many Michael Moorcocks... can there? :?

              Hope Mike remembers this and can post on the matter when he's back on line.

              p.s. any chance of scanning the photos? I'm sure we'd all like to see them.
              'You know, I can't keep up with you. If I hadn't met you in person, I quite honestly would NOT believe you really existed. I just COULDN'T. You do so MUCH... if half of what goes into your zines is to be believed, you've read more at the age of 17 than I have at the age of 32 - LOTS more'

              Archie Mercer to Mike (Burroughsania letters page, 1957)

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              • #8
                Originally posted by Perdix
                That's a really early laptop he's using in that photo. And look! He's writing so damn' fast, his pen's caught fire and is smouldering!
                That's one of IBM's earliest models. It was the first multi-media enable laptops. It has a charming ringing sound when you get too close to typing stuff off of the monitor.
                The cat spread its wings and flew high into the air, hovering to keep pace with them as they moved cautiously toward the city. Then, as they climbed over the rubble of what had once been a gateway and began to make their way through piles of weed-grown masonry, the cat flew to the squat building with the yellow dome upon its roof. It flew twice around the dome and then came back to settle on Jhary's shoulder. - The King of the Swords

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                • #9
                  Am I right in believing that those early models were powered by the user's pain? The pain, or so I've heard it said, entered via the keys. As the power wore down, the user would have to type with increasing force, to fuel the "pain" batteries. If the user could endure it for an entire novel, he was awarded a "ribbon", yes?

                  What a peculiar age it was!
                  "That which does not kill us, makes us stranger." - Trevor Goodchild

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                  • #10
                    Originally posted by DeeCrowSeer
                    If the user could endure it for an entire novel, he was awarded a "ribbon", yes?
                    :lol:
                    The cat spread its wings and flew high into the air, hovering to keep pace with them as they moved cautiously toward the city. Then, as they climbed over the rubble of what had once been a gateway and began to make their way through piles of weed-grown masonry, the cat flew to the squat building with the yellow dome upon its roof. It flew twice around the dome and then came back to settle on Jhary's shoulder. - The King of the Swords

                    Comment


                    • #11
                      The operators would also often hit an emergency key called 'tab' which dispensed a capsule of a powerful opioid painkiller for oral consumption every paragraph or so...
                      There was also a button allowing one to take an essential break for, er voiding purposes, though it was often mis-spelled...
                      Sorry, arfulm: what were you asking about again? We seem to have got sidetracked. It happens a lot...

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                      • #12
                        Anyway, do you think Mike's writing 'The Final Programme' at a party in that picture? Lang's on hand to do some proof-reading...

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                        • #13
                          Originally posted by DeeCrowSeer
                          Am I right in believing that those early models were powered by the user's pain?
                          I believe you're referring to the "black" model
                          not sure how many were produced
                          but only a few, at best, were issued
                          I've heard that Mr. M managed to squirrel a couple back,
                          before their distribution was stopped
                          and then there has always been the rumour
                          of that one with all the bells and whistles
                          dare I name it?

                          Wordbringer
                          "A man is no man who cannot have a fried mackerel when he has set his mind on it; and more especially when he has money in his pocket to pay for it." - E.A. Poe's NICHOLAS DUNKS; OR, FRIED MACKEREL FOR DINNER

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                          • #14
                            Michael, just noticed that you seem to have uploaded a couple of photos of yourself and your brother with Mike to the Image Gallery?

                            [image moved]

                            [link expired]

                            If so, then very many thanks for kindly sharing these images with the rest of us. I'm sure it's much appreciated by many here.

                            What with your photos and Keith Chapman's memories of working with Mike at Fleetway (in the 'Sexton Blake' thread) the 1950s are really coming to life this weekend. :)
                            _"For an eternity Allard was alone in an icy limbo where all the colours were bright and sharp and comfortless.
                            _For another eternity Allard swam through seas without end, all green and cool and deep, where distorted creatures drifted, sometimes attacking him.
                            _And then, at last, he had reached the real world – the world he had created, where he was God and could create or destroy whatever he wished.
                            _He was supremely powerful. He told planets to destroy themselves, and they did. He created suns. Beautiful women flocked to be his. Of all men, he was the mightiest. Of all gods, he was the greatest."

                            Comment


                            • #15
                              Those photos are priceless! Thanks so much!

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