Bookery

Ah. I misunderstood the previous post. If you're a golden-age collector, especially, I would never imagine you could fulfill your wants just by shopping at stores. But I'm not sure why it has to be an either/or thing either. I will quibble with your assertion that not putting comics on-line is "irresponsible" (responsible to whom?). But I guess i'm irresponsible. I used to do shows and mail order and eBay and the whole shebang. But now my stock stays in the shop. I don't do mail-order. It's walk-in or not at all. I have nearly 100% sell-thru on anything that's remotely decent. Sometimes within hours, sometimes within weeks, occasionally within months. But sooner or later it sells. I don't have trouble selling comics in my shop, so why would I add the bother of setting up at shows or running to the post office all week? Sure... I might get more in some online or auction venues. But I'm at the point where I can retire whenever I choose to, so getting a few more dollars isn't worth the hassle to me. But moreover, it's a very deliberate decision, partly for the reasons many have stated above. It may be old-fashioned, but I want to have a brick-and-mortar location where customers can walk in and find an assortment that you don't find in other shops. I don't want to have a boring shop because everything I get immediately goes on eBay or some big auction house. Now stock is only as good as the collections that can be obtained, and that varies a lot from month to month and year to year. But you can't have it both ways. People on here are complaining that they don't go to shops because they never have anything other than moderns. Then if a shop does carry vintage stuff, they're called irresponsible for not making it available online. So... which is it? It's like the other famous dilemma that occurs among many collectors. They don't like a shop that doesn't have a lot of big hot books. But if you do have them, they complain that prices are too high. Because high prices are the only way they are going to stay on your walls. I try to keep my prices reasonable which is why everything eventually sells. And I have a variable but good mix of older stuff on any given day. But I could have a great mix of stuff if I over-priced. If all the stuff I bought in just the past couple of years were on the walls at one time, it would be a fascinating display indeed. But customers wouldn't buy it, because the books would have to be well above market to maintain that display. In-store selling isn't for everyone. It's a niche approach to selling. But if I put everything good up for auction, I would disappoint most if not all of my existing customer base to favor customers-unknown across the country. And that, in my mind, would be "irresponsible" to the folks that have supported me for 40 years, and to those that drive a few miles out of their way as they pass through from out-of-state.

All shops are by nature browsing arenas. If you're not into browsing, into the thrill of the hunt, into running across something that isn't on your list but suddenly perks your interest upon seeing it in person, then a shop isn't going to be for you. Frankly, just shopping and clicking for everything on the internet seems pretty boring to me, but I'm from another generation.

Don't follow. If I have something on your want-list, what kind of a jerk would I be to put it up for sale on some site in the hope that you might see it? Why wouldn't I just call you and let you know I have it?

Just make sure to keep one hand on your wallet. As far as I know, the Burglar of Banf-f-f is still at large. (pop culture reference for the really really old...)

There might be some of that, but after 40 years in business I pretty much know every collector in the region by now. Plus, we're the largest vintage-material shop in the state. If word gets out so that others will travel from other states and find their way here, you would think locals would be able to as well. Now, true, GA is more erratic and getting harder to find than in the "old days". But if you collected it and had a shop in your vicinity that at least occasionally gets it in, you'd stop by at least a few times a year (esp. since prices are generally going to be well below the big auction houses). And anyway, you'd simply add it to the shop's want-list... what would you have to lose? No... in this region, in one of the economically largest states in the nation, the collectors for it simply aren't here.

The theory is that golden-age will retain its value because it's rare. But collectors for them aren't so common either. The population within 20 miles of my shop is well above half-a-million. The number of actual golden-age collectors I have is almost zero. I say "almost", because one guy will purchase what pre-code horror he can afford. And I'm not counting a couple of guys that will pick out pre-code westerns and humor from the $5 boxes. And maybe one or two others that buy an occasional golden-age because they like the cover... but it's not their emphasis. Now I still sell them when out-of-state collectors or dealers come through, so it's not an issue to move them. But it's amazing to have so little interest in a population area of that size. I'm pretty sure if I placed a $500 golden-age book (nothing too obvious, like a Timely or anything) out in the boxes for $50, it could sit there undisturbed for quite awhile. Age and rarity ultimately means nothing. It still is all about demand. There are literally thousands and thousands of old books from the 1700s and 1800s that are virtually valueless.

I haven't ordered them for a long time since I still have a supply, but I assume Gerber still carries them... they make something they call a "Playboy Magazine" size, 2mil mylar. It's designed for those thick issues from the mid-60s. They are 10" x 13" (excluding flap), and at least used to be marketed as 1013M2. They come in handy for a variety of oversize products.

Here's the grading chart from the (out of print) pulp guide: xxxxxxx Many pulps will actually fall into grades even lower than the first column "good" valuation, a grade considered typical for most issues that occasionally still turn up in original-owner collections. Pulps in true "very good" collection are often the best grade one is likely to turn up, especially for scarcer titles. "Very Fine" is a grade obtainable for some saddle-stitched magazine formats, and for digests particularly from the 1960s, but it is quite rare for true pulp-format publications, and likely non-existent for many specific or especially early issues. Unless a collection is from a major (and usually well-documented) discovery or estate, large listings of pulps in "very fine" (or better!) condition may be dubious. For this edition we have added a numbering system to the grading definitions. This has not been historically standard for pulp grading, but such systems are now employed for most popular collectibles, and are listed here for the benefit of the collector. Some dealers will use them and others will not-- but the systems are interchangeable and equally valid. Both terms and numbers are listed below. The 9-point scale below is similar to that used for comics, and there are parallels between the two in terms of general eye-appeal. It is often claimed that pulp condition is not graded the same as comics, but this is not necessarily true. It is simply that pulps will rarely be found in the same high-grade conditions that comics will. Whereas a high-grade collector of comics may seek out 8.0 grades (or above) even for golden-age issues, the grade conscious pulp collector will generally accept a 6.0 (or sometimes lower) as a prized copy, especially for older or scarcer issues. Unlike with comics, however, it is the opinion of this author that the half-grades (or decimal grades) common with comics are not useful with the more fragile nature of pulps. POOR (0.5): An incomplete copy, coverless or missing pages, or brittle or otherwise damaged beyond reasonable readability. Coverless copies in otherwise decent condition are often desired as reading copies as long as they are inexpensive. But heavily damaged or abused issues have little or no collectible value. FAIR (1.0): Generally considered below collectible grade unless rare or in high demand. A "fair" copy may be missing a back cover or a title or advertising page, but all story pages must be intact. Outer pulp edges may be brittle in places, but the overall pages must be solid enough to turn without undue risk of tearing or breaking apart. Pages might be especially darkened, or exhibit damp-staining. An otherwise complete and even supple copy may be marred by numerous cover stress-lines and tears, excessive edge-trimming or chipping, etc. Value is generally about half or less of the "good" price. GOOD (2.0): Represented by the 1st pricing column in this guide, "good" is the typical used but not abused issue, and the grade most commonly encountered in non-specialist venues such as flea markets, garage sales, or standard estate auctions. A "good" issue often has a number of cover creases and/or reading stress-lines, but not so many as to make the book as unattractive as a "fair". Pages may be tanned, but should exhibit only minor flaking if any. Spine-lettering may be substantially flaked and chipped, but the spine should not be completely damaged or missing. A taped spine, or interior-taped tears are not un-common, as long as the tape is unobtrusive and the glue has not seriously damaged the book. The cover-overhang may be heavily chipped or trimmed away altogether. GOOD to VERY GOOD (3.0): An item falling somewhere between the former and following grading levels. VERY GOOD (4.0): This grade is represented by the 2nd pricing column in this guide, and is the minimal standard sought by many serious collectors, and with some pulps is the highest obtainable grade. "Very good" is also a designation most often over-graded by book owners and some dealers. A "very good" is actually an above average copy in many cases. Covers should be reasonably bright without unusual fading. Pages may be lightly tanned, yellowed or off-white, but should be mostly supple with only a hint of edge-flaking here and there. Tape may be present only in small amounts, such as the spine corners, or a small interior tear. The cover may be slightly separated from the spine edges, but should not exceed an inch or two, and the overall book must be solid. Vertical reading stress lines near the spine are common, as are small corner creases. The overhang may be chipped or have multiple tears, but generally should still be present. However the 4.0 grade is the highest-grade generally given to a pulp that has been trimmed (after publication), if it is done neatly. The spine should be at least 50% intact. No pages can be missing. Although a "very good" book may have one or more of the above defects, this does not mean it should have an abundance of them, or should have such an accumulation of defects as to mar its general attractiveness. In particular, the main body of the cover should not be damaged so as to unduly detract from the art. VERY GOOD TO FINE (5.0): An item falling somewhere between the former and following grading levels. FINE (6.0): Whereas "fine" may be considered a mid-grade comic book, here it represents what is often the highest possible grade for many early pulp-format publications, though the general appearance will be about the same. The spine should be 75% or more intact, and generally clean. The book should not be overly dull, and the pulp overhang, if applicable to the issue, should be present with small chips and tears that would come from routine shelf-wear. A 6.0 book should not be artificially trimmed. Tape (or tape-stains) are generally not allowed, though a very small piece may be permissible on an otherwise beautiful copy. Pages may not be their original white, but should be creamy or lightly yellowed. If a pulp has an outstanding and near-flawless cover, but has significantly darkened or brittle interior pages, it is not a "fine". Some general cover scuffing and corner-creasing is allowed, but the book should appear like a 6.0 golden-age comic would... bright, tight, and attractive, with the look of having been carefully read once or twice, then decently stored. Early pulps are often scarce in this condition, but '40s and '50s pulps are not overly rare in 6.0, and stapled-magazine format publications and factory-trimmed digests can often be located in this grade, though a lot is dependent upon the quality of the paper stock. A 6.0 book will usually be priced about halfway between the "very good" and "very fine" columns. FINE TO VERY FINE (7.0): A highly-attractive issue that falls just short of the "very fine" classification. VERY FINE (8.0): This grade is represented by the 3rd pricing column in this guide. A "very fine" is fairly close to the same condition as the day it arrived at the newsstand, regardless of the issue's age. The book has only very small flaws. Pages should be white or at least off-white. The spine must be fully intact and unfaded. No trimming, tape, or glue repairs are permitted. Small tears may be in the over-hang, but no pieces are missing. Bedsheet and pulp issues should have straight, un-warped spines. Magazines will not exhibit rusting to the staples. With rare exceptions, this is as good as it gets for most pulp-format publications. VERY FINE TO NEAR MINT (9.0): This grade would rarely come into play, though there have been a few examples and collections over the years that would qualify. This is essentially a newsstand-fresh copy, with only the smallest loss of whiteness to the pages possibly allowed from the passage of time. What few flaws permitted in the 8.0 grade would generally be absent here. Pricing may or may not be substantially different from an 8.0, however. Less expensive or in-demand pulps such as many westerns, romances, or even later Argosy, Blue Books, etc., might be valued little differently than the "very fine" grade. Some magazines and later digests will turn up in this grade, and may bring the same or only slightly higher prices than an 8.0. But some art-intensive pulps, such as certain science-fiction titles, hero pulps, weird-menace, or "spicy" titles do rarely occur as newsstand fresh copies, and these often will bring significant premiums beyond those listed in this volume.

This is pretty amazing. I hadn't realized it started this early. Comics books (as we think of them) were only 7 years old at this point! And up until a couple of years prior, they had mostly relied on newspaper strips for their content. I wonder if it's no coincidence that this first volley against comics itself appears in a newspaper. Could there have been an ulterior motive? DC (and shortly after, Centaur) began producing original content in the late '30s that didn't rely on paying licensing fees for newspaper strips. Could the newspapers themselves have been quietly behind these early attempts to quash the comic book market? Comic strips were hugely profitable. Successful strip creators became very wealthy. People often chose which newspaper to buy based on their favorite Sunday strips. Comics with original content had to be seen as a big competitor. Newspapers, and later other magazines, chose to print these particular authors and articles. Is it possible the early rancor against comic books began as a corporate move to eliminate or damage the competition, and the later self-aggrandizing Werthams of the world simply jumped on the bandwagon once it was rolling?

Hate to quote myself, but I want to correct a bit of an error here. Technically, the Comics Code Authority was a ratings system. There was no law that stated a comic had to carry the seal. The seal merely meant that the comic had to meet certain stringent requirements. Comic companies chose to self-censor rather than risk newsstands refusing to carry their product. Yet Dell (and later Gold Key) refused to carry the seal, feeling their product already met those requirements. And if anything, Dell increased the amount of their product released after the Code, while other companies reduced titles or went out of business altogether. Fawcett, for example, probably felt it wasn't worth the hassle... they had already lost their flagship title due to the DC lawsuit, and comics were only a small portion of their publication empire. They continued on under the Pines imprint, but mostly concentrated on their magazine output, and their highly successful Gold Medal paperback line, which catered especially to an adult market (no codes required). By the mid-60s certainly the entire underground comics movement made no effort to adhere to the CCA. Some (or a lot) of the responsibility must be given to the publishers themselves. They could have designed their own mature-audience label (or ages 15+, as an example) and requested these comics be racked separately along with the men's adventure mags and more exploitative tabloids. Maybe the newsstands would have complied, maybe not. But it wasn't as if the newsstands in 1950s America were particularly prudish. They carried plenty of men's "action" titles. Magazines like Titter and others had nudity within, and carried pictorials of Bettie Page and others. Playboy debuted in 1953 and ushered in a plethora of sex-oriented titles like Gent, Adam, Satan, etc. Tabloids showed actual murder victims on their covers. Comic publishers had backed themselves into a corner. They wanted to expand into more mature stories, but had already branded themselves as a kids' product. They made no effort to indicate any transition via labeling or marketing. Remember all of those comic book spinner racks? The banners read "Hey Kids! Comics!", not "Comic Books for All Readers" or separate racks for older readers. The writers and artists at comic book companies wanted to tell stories beyond just the funny animal genre. But the publishing companies themselves continued to market it as a children's product. Motion pictures had already begun pushing the boundaries of the code in the '50s. An entire genre, film noir, began post-WW2 and particularly catered to mature audiences. Though there was no rating system applied to these films, they reached their desired audience through marketing. Kids weren't likely to attend them without an adult. They didn't play Saturday matinees. The trailers made it clear these films weren't meant for kids, but for their parents. Comic publishers could have begun separating out and marketing their product similarly... but chose not to.

As a one-time film major, I can assure you that nothing produced in the '50s came close to the levels of gore found in comics. There were a couple of drive-in horror movies that showed decapitated heads... but even these looked like the mannequins that they were, and there was very little if any blood associated with them. Most westerns showed no blood, or maybe a small patch on a shoulder wound. Meanwhile comics books were having eyeballs poked out, disemboweled guts strewn around a baseball field, body parts being ripped off. Even the kind of routine gun violence displayed in a typical crime comic didn't see the big screen until the late 1960s with Bonnie and Clyde and The Wild Bunch. Yes, ratings on anything didn't appear until the latter '60s with an evolving MPAA system. In some ways, these actually freed up creativity in films. Prior, all films had to be made viewable for all audiences. While some in the '50s and early '60s certainly had mature themes, they would generally have gone over the heads of any child viewing, as they were treated without overt graphic depictions. But again, I think magazine vendors and newsstands bear some responsibility here. Not then, nor now, are there ratings on novels. It was assumed a bookseller would know enough not to sell Lady Chatterley's Lover or Lolita to a minor. There were adult paperbacks beginning in the latter '50s, but vendors would stock these apart from other books. It's partially, if not primarily, because adults (parents and vendors) paid so little attention to comics that they just assumed everything was like Superman or Donald Duck. When Wertham and others capitalized on this lack of awareness, it created a panic.

Probably. But I think we tend to believe money is behind all motivation. I think a lot more people are driven by the desire for fame and attention than actual money. And I think it's an over-simplification to dismiss Wertham merely as a mustache-twirling villain. There are two other factors that came into play in the 1950s. First, for whatever cultural reason, in America (unlike Europe or Japan) society couldn't conceive that comic books might be produced for all ages... comics were a product that simply had to be designed for children. If you look at it from this perspective, then yes, comics were truly pushing the boundaries of what would be acceptable for young ages. Second, the publishers and newsstands were not without blame themselves. They made no attempt to put warnings and suggestions on some titles that they were meant for teens or older, because the publishers didn't want to lose any sales, including those to children (see... the whole "money" thing goes both ways). Let's be honest... these same exact stories in some of those comics, re-packaged today, 2024, with modern art so that we can distance from the "historical artifact" nature of the originals, would still receive a "not for children" label or an age-appropriateness range on the cover. No movie in the 1950s, no matter what the target age, contained the level of gore and violence that was available in comics racked right next to Little Lulu and Stumbo the Giant. It's curious that newsstand operators who would never think of selling a child a copy of the pulps Horror Stories or Weird Tales (stories that had to be read at length to get to the salacious parts) never gave a second thought to selling a 9-year old comics with gore and sexual innuendo to be seen at once just by flipping open the book. So like all things in history, it gets complicated. Should those comics in the '50s have been banned? Of course not. Should some effort have been made to categorize them into age-appropriate sectors so that parents could decide for their families? Probably. Also, with all things history, it will be endlessly repeated. 70 years later the debate continues on where is the line between separating by age-appropriate, and what is considered to be book banning. History is rarely black-and-white, and if it was it would be pretty dull. What makes it fascinating, for those willing to put in the work, it to study the complications, layers, and to see things in the context of the times in which they existed. This is why the SOTIcollectors of the world are to be commended for not only preserving the historical artifacts themselves, but for periodically bringing the stories behind them to our attention lest it all be forgotten.

Another factor to consider with buyers we deem to have "overpaid" is that in many cases they may be upgrading, so that in their mind they haven't really paid as much as it looks like. If you pay $100k for a Promise Book, and turn around and sell your old under-copy for $50k, you may feel that even if the price drops, you still have a nicer copy and haven't put $100k of fresh money into it. I have a lot of customers who do this, and it especially works out if the under-copy was bought years ago at a fraction of current value.

This is a super-key. It is the 1st appearance of both ditko-hand and the g.i. joe grip.

I'd hate to pigeonhole it that exclusively. But I am hard-pressed to think of much literary sf that doesn't involve social commentary. In theory an sf story could be about how science will make our lives so much better in the future, which in reality, it mostly has in real life. And yet despite this, the majority of sf tales are dark warnings about future impending disaster. Kind of ironic. In fact, it now occurs to me that Shelley's tale is even more significantly sf than I realized. 200 years later sf still steadfastly maintains the themes she laid out in that novel, which is a generalized fear, rather than embrace, of technology. In fact... the movie Frankenstein surprisingly encompassed her, and by extension, sf's most prevalent theme into two simple words... "Fire bad!"

In strictly technical terminology... kinda-sorta. But virtually all science-fiction literature uses the medium as an observation about ourselves, or a commentary or analysis about where we have been or where we are going. Superman is an alien who comes to earth to beat up our criminals for us. Okay. But when alien Klaatu comes to earth it's done as a commentary on where we were heading as a nuclear-armed planet (not particularly original or sophisticated, even at the time, but sf used as commentary nonetheless). For me, sf has to be more than just packaging. The Blob is considered by many to be sf (not me) because it arrived from outer space. But if it crawled out of a swamp like "The Creature", then suddenly it wouldn't be considered sf, even if virtually every shot and line of dialogue in the film remained exactly the same. Eventually, especially in more modern stories, I'm sure there are more and more sf concepts brought into the Superman universe... but in the beginning he was just a better-looking Popeye from another world.

To wrap this back into comic books... I wonder what is the first true "science-fiction" story in comic format (let's say 1933-on). I don't consider super-heroes to be science-fiction at all... they are mostly adventure-fantasy. Early on there are obviously reprints of newspaper strips of Buck Rogers and Flash Gordon. But even these are marginally sf... mostly space swashbucklers. I'm thinking more of an original unabashedly science-fiction story created for a comic book that would have the qualities more associated with literary sf. EC certainly had some... often adapted from known sf writers... but those aren't particularly early.

No. Hugo Gernsback released a special issue of Scientific Experimenter magazine in Aug. 1923 dedicated to "scientific fiction". For awhile afterward, it was referred to as "scienti-fiction" before finally settling on "science-fiction". Ackerman claimed to have originated the term "sci-fi". Sci-Fi is now used almost exclusively in describing film or television productions, and rarely with written stories and novels.

I'm not sure I follow. Roy should continue to expound on this.

Things have changed, however. When I grew up, adults did not read comics. There was also far more text to a comic book. So not only do kids read slower than adults, there was more there to read to begin with. A comic, carefully read, might take 20 minutes in the '60s. (And we won't even get into Classics Illustrated). I could spend the afternoon with an 80-page Giant. Today, comics are read almost exclusively by adults, and they can whip through 20 pages of essentially splash-pages in a few minutes. Coupled with comics having risen in price 2x-3x the rate of inflation, the cost-entertainment value just isn't there, and for monthly floppies, never will be again. Monthly distribution of titles are fine... but they should be full-length self-contained graphic novels. There would still be collectibles... as first editions of hot original material would be in demand. One of the things that hurt the pulp product was that many titles (not all) relied on novels broken into installments. It would take 6 months to read a short novel like Princess of Mars. When paperback novels were developed, you could have the whole story at one time, to be read at your leisure.

This.

You can if you want, I guess. Not sure I see the point in this context. In the end -- the book is the book. She wasn't the first or last author to have had a troubled life. In general, I don't think there have been many works of fiction created by happy, trouble-free people. She is one of the most famous names in ALL of literary history... hardly a good candidate for someone not being given her historical due! We have a need to want to categorize and organize information. But not everything fits into easy definitions. Ray Bradbury never wrote a true science-fiction story in his life, and yet is often lumped into that genre. He certainly didn't consider himself a science-fiction writer. Harlan Ellison never though of himself as a science-fiction writer either, and only some of his material would probably fit the category. Editor Ted White, one of the ones who hated the term "sci-fi", would not have considered Buck Rogers or Star Wars to be science-fiction at all. In fact, he felt Rogers and Flash Gordon were responsible for taking science-fiction out of the literary arena it once held, reducing it to B-movie fodder and kid's stuff in the public and media's eyes. Personally, I see Verne as being an adventure writer, and Wells' works having far more science-fiction about them. And to dovetail this back to comics... the super-hero genre obvious owes its allegiance to Buck and Flash, and not to Captain Nemo or Dr. Moreau. I think it is most fair to say that Shelley wrote the first science-fiction novel... and that Verne and Wells established the science-fiction genre.

So? People can have differing opinions without being bigots. There's a case to be made for Verne and Wells, but I think you're limiting the definition of science-fiction by doing so. But that's just my opinion. As far as I know there is only one major genre that can be ascribed as to having been created by a single person, and that's the detective story invented by Poe. And even in that case, I suspect if you dug around into really obscure and forgotten stories you might find other contenders... if you are early and famous, you're more likely to be given credit than someone nobody has ever heard of. Hammett and Chandler are often given credit for creating the sub-genre of the hard-boiled detective story. But the first hard-boiled detective was Three-Gun Terry created by Carroll John Daly. However, Hammett's first hard-boiled story came out just weeks afterward, so he couldn't have been inspired by Daly. It was just the right time for that sort of story to appear, and clearly more than one writer was developing it at the same time. Shelley's Frankenstein did not immediately inspire imitators, insomuch as the science-fiction aspect of it. So obviously other writers of the time still saw it as a gothic novel rather than some new genre they couldn't imagine. A half-century later Wells and Verne did inspire numerous imitators. A lot of that clearly had to do with the industrial revolution and the new cultural obsessions with machines and inventions. Shelley was ahead of her time, but wouldn't have even known it herself. She saw science as an angle to tell her morality play... but remember, the story was born of a contest to create a "ghost story", not to invent a new literary genre. That doesn't mean it's not the first sf story (clearly I think it is)... but it means there are lot of factors involved in its evolution. Also Shelley never wrote anything else along that line, whereas Wells and Verne defined their careers in the genre (though Wells wasn't happy about it).

See my above post.

Whoa! I think you're reading a lot into something that I don't think is there. First off, as I said, I believe the consensus, at least among creators of science-fiction, IS that Frankenstein in the first sf novel. So I'm not sure who it is you're attacking here. And for those that want to move that qualification up to the latter 19th century, I think it has more to do with the gothic romance traditions of Frankenstein than the gender of the writer. As I stated earlier, this has been amplified by the movies, which is where the vast majority of people have their concept of the material. Verne and Wells are more technically-oriented Victorian authors, and have a drier less poetic approach to the material. The early writers of Amazing Stories were probably more inspired by Verne and Wells in their styles, and so a link was established. The traditions of Shelley and Poe inspired a different direction, taken up by the likes of Gaston Leroux, Ambrose Bierce, Bram Stoker, etc. I think if you were to poll the writing community you would find that Shelley ranks higher in the literary hierarchy than Wells and especially Verne, who is seen more of as an adventure writer in line with H. Rider Haggard and others. So I'm not sure where you're seeing the bias.