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why men shouldnt marry by jim moran

Why men shouldn't marry by Jim Moran


New York : Lyle Stuart, 1969. First printing. Hardcover. 96 pages ; 21 cm. $3.00 dust jacket. A near fine copy with firm binding, clean and unmarked pages.


This is an incendiary book. All who profit from marriage—parents, clergymen, caterers, divorce lawyers and judges, jewelers, wives, marriage counselors, private detectives and professional divorce correspondents, florists, bridal consultants, and their ilk—may explode in wrath at its logic. Outraged husband-hunting females will likely ignite a holocaust with Why Men Shouldn't Many feeding the flames.

Jim Moran is a dedicated, consecrated, enthusiastic bachelor. Marriage, he says, has inflicted more torture than the Spanish Inquisition at its worst "Let's face it: Marriage, even without the blight of monogamy, is not a man's scene. His natural and proper function is to make it as long as it is fun and to cut out the instant it becomes a drag."

If there is any good reason for a man to marry, Jim Moran has never found it. But, he declares, there is every reason why men shouldn't marry, and he has set them down in orderly, formidable array in this useful source book for the unmarried male.

Cited here are assorted menaces and shocking case histories from Moran's own personal files—the barbaric rites of the divorce court, the infantile antics of the jealous mate, the deadly female nesting instinct and its terrible consequences, the fun game of genetic roulette invented by a cat named Mendel.

The author has prowled through the writings of sages from the ages on the topic of marriage and related disorders. There are sayings from savants like Anonymous, Freud, Shaw, Wilde, and a newly discovered East Indian philosopher named Naromji. Each offers powerful corroboration for the author's courageous thesis.

Why Men Shouldn't Many is the indispensable manual to end all marriage manuals. No single man or about to be single man can afford to be without it. Every single woman of vision and foresight will surely rush to buy it— if only to keep it out of the hands of eligible males.

In this brief space it would be impossible to come within forty thousand miles of setting forth the incredible attainments of Jim Moran. I have devoted a good portion of my life writing about his exploits and adventures, and I could still produce a book as fat as the Manhattan telephone directory concerning additional things I know about him. Once, indeed, I turned out a long magazine article on the things he has wanted to do but has never got around to doing . . .

Such as his scheme to fire the last shot of the Civil War. He once told me: "(For the price of plane fare and one shotgun shell, I could bring a final and ultimate and happy end to the Civil War. I would furnish the shotgun.) As you know, they are still fighting that war like fury. The reason for this is that the last shot of the Civil War was never fired. At least I can find no record of it. I'd like to go down to the Mason-Dixon line and stand astraddle of it and aim a shotgun into the air and fire the last shot of the Civil War. Then it would be over and done with, and we wouldn't need to hear another word about it, and Bruce Catton could go somewhere and poach himself a pot of goober peas."

In the last dozen years, Jim has widened his audience tremendously through his frequent appearance on television shows, mainly those presided over by Jack Paar, Steve Allen and Dave Garroway. Most of these television appearances have been concerned with his continuing interest in natural history. He is quite unorthodox in his interpretation of natural law (please take note of his classic lecture on the varying sounds of toilet flushes, and his account of his invention of the Fat-O-Lator). Because of his work in television, people who never heard of him in the past and who knew nothing of his colorful history, now recognize him and salute him on the street, whether he's in New York or Los Angeles or Klamath Falls. He has also endeared himself to a multitude of children through his two juvenile books — "Miserable" and "Sophocles, The Hyena."

The beard is his trademark — that and his ordinarily soft, untroubled voice. He is an imposing figure wherever he goes, standing six feet three and seeming always to exude a special amiability toward the world. His eyes have been described as "electric blue" and have a magnetic quality. People are somehow instantly attracted to him. Including female women.

Those who know him best have always felt that Jim is rendering an important service to the public by destroying stupid copybook maxims and knocking down hallowed but hollow proverbs.

Jim Moran is one of the most imaginative and inventive human beings who has ever slapped shoe leather.


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