James D. Burns (freshman-East-Asian studies) could probably recite the beginning of J.R.R. Tolkien's The Hobbit by rote:

"In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit. Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the ends of worms and an oozy smell, nor yet a dry, bare sandy hole with nothing in it to sit down or to eat: it was a hobbit-hole and that means comfort. It had a perfectly round door like a porthole, painted green, with a shiny brass knob in the exact middle. The door opened to a tube shaped hall like a tunnel. . ."

Burns, a native of State College and the president of the Penn State Science Fiction Society (PSSFS), has a very worn set of Tolkien books which he reads at least once a year. And it just so happens that Tolkien is the topic of this week's Sci-Fi meeting.

The introduction to The Hobbit ironically describes the setting of the meeting. In a hole in the depths of Webster's Bookstore Café, 128 S. Allen St., met a group of six or so sci-fi loving guys.

In a huddle they gathered around, filling the tables and chairs of the uncarpeted section of the store, each surrounded by shelves and shelves and years and years worth of printed pages.

And for some reason, as I sat and observed last week's Thursday night meeting, I felt like I'd gotten a sneak peek at a porthole that is the complex world of the Penn State Science Fiction Society.

It seems implicit that you possess two qualities to belong to the group: the ability to harangue and an urge to never take anything too seriously.

A master of ambiguity, Burns responds to questions like he's engaged in a game of dodgeball. Even when he introduced himself, he was vague.

With his long, black trenchcoat slung over the back of his chair, he answered, "It depends," flashing a half-cocked smile, when I asked his name.

Burns' first taste of science fiction and fantasy came in elementary school. "Our teacher assigned some ghost stories. I was afraid to bring them home because I thought they'd come to life."

I inquired about his days in high school and got the witty reply I expected. "I hung out with the learning enrichment crowd in high school. I thought I could learn through osmosis, but it didn't work."

"Would you like a Life Saver?" I offered.

"No thanks. I don't have a life to save," Burns replied as he pushed back a strand of hair.

Burns started attending sci-fi meetings back in 1995. After a six-year hiatus, he reunited with the PSSFSers, enrolled full time at the university and took a more active role in the club. "Nobody else wanted the position (president) so I took it," he said.

"See that guy in the gray shirt," Burns said, extending a finger towards Fred Ramsey, a long-haired figure hovering near the back of the store. "He's one of the original members of the club."

It turns out he is also a co-owner of the building that hosts the group 32 years later, Webster's Bookstore Café. "I've had a long and shameful career," he joked.

Ramsey, who bears an uncanny resemblance to Jerry Garcia, quickly came over to introduce himself and seemed happy to reminisce about the 1969 birth of the club. "I started the club to meet other people interested," Ramsey said. "It's a club for people who don't join clubs."

The very first meeting of the Penn State Science Fiction Society was held in the first floor of what is now the HUB-Robeson Center. Three hundred people showed up for the first meeting — 15 for the second.

"We were just as geeky then," Ramsey said of the original members.

Ramsey can still recall the name of the first science fiction novel he ever read, David Starr, Space Ranger, by Isaac Asimov. "It took me on a journey out to Mars and I've never come back."

Burns described the new generation of PSSFS, pronounced "Pizz-Fizz" by members, as a circle of close friends. "We have different tastes now," he said. "The majority of us read fantasy."

One of Burns' first moves as president was an attempt to elongate the club's name to include fantasy and anime, which, in his opinion, better reflects the interests of the group. His request to officially alter the name of the club was denied.

Unbeknownst to him, Penn State already supported an anime club. His goals for PSSFS, however, aren't likely to be deterred by any setbacks, minor or major.

Getting and keeping members is a difficult prospect for the club, one that weighs heavy on the shoulders of Burns. "You have to have at least 12 members to be declared a club at Penn State," explains Burns. "People come to a meeting for the first time and go 'ooh-ah.' And then they never come back. We get about one or two new members a year."

"We gotta start showing porn again," piped in a member as he slipped into an empty seat.

"This fall we're gonna start cloning people," another chirped in.

"There is this stigma. You immediately think overweight, smelly guy," Burns said.

The genre was also dealt a blow during the Dungeons and Dragons controversy of the early '80s.

Secretary Brendon Burley (freshman-engineering), who joined the club only a year ago, recalled an aunt who was convinced the game was inextricably linked to devil worship.

The members aren't short on answers when it comes to possible reasons for the development of negative stereotypes. "We live in a very conservative society," Burley said. "The problem is you have to have an open mind to appreciate it (science fiction). It's a satire of society."

Burley looked back fondly on his first thought-provoking conversation about the genre. The sounding board for the discussion came from an unlikely source, a classmate in high school. "It was a funny thing," Burley said. "I went to school with him for a long time but he was out of my clique." Burley found himself talking at a restaurant until six in the morning. His passion for the genre hasn't dimmed over the years.

Although Burley said that providing an empirical definition of science fiction is difficult, there wasn't a trace of hesitancy in his blue eyes as he succinctly summed up his own thoughts on the genre.

"Science fiction is anything that is uprooted and displaced, something different than what we know."

Despite Burns and company's willingness to take jabs at themselves and their light-hearted approach to most subjects, building attendance and broadening the way others view them are two areas all of them seem intent upon improving.

In recent weeks, they've had their hands full. Last Saturday, Room 102 of the Thomas Building was invaded by PSSFS. From midnight to noon, PSSFS hosted the Science Fiction Movie Festival. The hour before the movie festival officially began was marked by some strife — a last minute trip to Kinko's had to be scheduled because the times for movie showings were accidentally omitted from the original flier. But once things began, it was smooth sailing. And judging by audience member's responses, the club hit pay dirt with this idea.

"I definitely think it's a good idea," said viewer Casey Snipes (junior-chemical engineering). "It's interesting to see where society's going."

The movies chosen to air by the group were a melting pot of science fiction, ranging from the animated Ghost in the Shell to the recent smash hit The Matrix.

Jack Holtz, another attendee of Saturday's PSSFS movie festival, drives a district school bus. "Actually, I'm an amateur thespian," Holtz said. "I've always been interested in films. I don't specifically seek out works of science fiction, although I have seen some of the films they're showing today."

Michael Klarman (junior-electrical engineering) had seen bits and pieces of the movie that flashed on the screen, Stargate. "I originally came to Ghost in the Shell. I haven't seen it before," he said. He believes that PSSFS would draw more people in if it could get more exposure. "They haven't had a chance to get the word out."

If Burns has his way, that's going to change. PSSFS plans to participate in tomorrow's Spring Fling from 9 a.m. to 1 a.m. at the HUB-Robeson Center and is looking forward to hosting a guest speaker in the near future.

To wrap up last Thursday's meeting, the "question of the night" was read aloud. Passed around on a sheet of loose-leaf paper as an alternative way to take attendance, each member paused to fill in the categories listed — name, alias, status, answer. Under the category status, Steve Brezler, an attendee of last week's meeting, who says he stops in every once in a while, poetically wrote: "Terribly shy, terribly sad, but how, terribly sealed in a grave."

The creative responses didn't stop there. Last week's question of the night — "Screw the goldband! I want a platinum ring with a black agute, how about you?" The PSSFSers handle it deftly, attacking from all sides, equipped with razor-sharp wit and a gift for sarcasm that any State College local would be hard pressed to rival.

But, if you're brave enough to try, the Penn State Science Fiction Society meets every Thursday at 6:30 p.m. in Room 102 of the McAllister Building, and I'm sure they'd welcome you with open arms.