The AAAA sponsored the Ism Forum, where anybody could speak about any “ism” of their choice. | 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, | 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 | had left with them that evening in 1953, the rest of my life could have taken a totally different path. Instead, | went along with a group to a nearby cafeteria, where | learned about the New York Rationalist Society. A whole new world of disbelief was opening up to me. That Saturday night | 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, 7he /ndependent.
The next week, | went to their office to subscribe and get back issues. | 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
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