Pulp Fiction

I used to read a lot of crappy fiction, westerns, old detective stories and science fiction from the thirties and forties. Never read war stories, dunno why. There was something about the way that the authors tried to fit War and Peace into the space needed for the instruction pamphlet in a headache tablet box that appealed to me. The sci-fi stories were the crappiest and - therefore - the best. Any time the author got himself stuck in a corner he (I don't remember any female writers) could just invent some shit and get out again. I mean, the action is taking place on Reamyewout 9, it could happen there, right? Have you been there? I didn't think so, so just shut up.
Even the laws of physics were irrelevant. I remember one story about mining a planet which orbited two different suns at two different speeds and would sometimes overtake itself. In fact, there were quite a few stories about planets with two suns. Mostly, I suspect, so that the artist who did the cover could put something interesting in the background of the picture of the big-titted damsel in distress. Who didn't always make an appearance in the actual story. Of course, anybody familiar with the way that planets are formed by the gradual accretion of matter in orbit around a star will be aware that this couldn't happen. Trouble is, nobody told 'em at Cal-Tech.
Weird, huh?