technology, not even the railroad, manifested a more rapid growth than the telegraph. By 1858 the first cable had been laid across the Atlantic, and by 1861 telegraph wires had reached across America. That each new method of transporting commodity or information should have to come into existence in a bitter competitive battle against previously existing devices is not surprising. Each innovation is not only commercially disrupting, but socially and psychologically corroding, as well. It is instructive to follow the embryonic stages of any new growth, for during this period of development it is much misunderstood, whether it be printing or the motorcar or TV. Just because people are at first oblivious of its nature, the new form deals some revealing blows to the zombie-eyed spectators. The original telegraph line between Baltimore and Washington promoted chess games between experts in the two cities. Other lines were used for lotteries and play in general, just as early radio existed in isolation from any commercial commitments and was, in fact, fostered by the amateur "hams" for years before it was seized by big interests. A few months ago John Crosby wrote to the New York Herald Tribune from Paris in a way that well illustrates why the "content" obsession of the man of print culture makes it difficult for him to notice any facts about the form of a new medium: Telstar, as you know, is that complicated ball that whirls through space, transmitting television broadcasts, telephone messages, and everything except common sense. When it was first cast aloft, trumpets sounded. Continents would share each other's intellectual pleasures. Americans would enjoy Brigitte Bardot. Europeans would partake of the heady intellectual stimulation of "Ben Casey." . . . The fundamental flaw in this communications miracle is the same one that has bugged every communications miracle since they started carving hieroglyphics on stone tablets. What do you say on it? Telstar