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A zine for people who collect 8-track tapes. The first car I ever owned had eight-track, and after I sold it to my sister for $100, someone broke in and stole the player (the driver's side window also fell through the door one morning. Let the buyer beware). This zine is interesting largely because of the back-and-forth discussions about whether 8-tracks are a hobby or a lifestyle and which tapes are the rarest (Never Mind the Bullocks sold for $100). I also love the endearing letters from readers happy to have found others who share their love of outdated musical formats. The zine lives on in the form of a website, 8-Track Heaven.
Clarence Shak is a former instructor in mathematics at the University of Hawaii. It's former because now Clarence spends his time lobbying for an end to all traffic laws except reckless driving. For a stamped, self-addressed envelope, he'll send you a copy of his thoughts on the subject. His argument is a bit hard to follow, something about how getting traffic tickets deprives us of our Constitutional right to the pursuit of happiness. He spends a lot of time analyzing the fine print on a ticket he got that had Notice to Appear on top of it. Clarence was miffed because the ticket is only actually notice that the officer will file a complaint if you don't pay the fine by the indicated date. So you're being asked to pay off the court not to take action against you! If they'd just synchronize the traffic lights in this part of the country, I'd be happy. (P.O. Box 15133, Honolulu, HI 96830) Ballast Quarterly Review A nifty back-pocket stuffer. Ballast stands for Books Art Language Logic Ambiguity Science and Teaching. It's "chiefly a pastiche of astonishing passages from books, magazines, diaries and other publications. It's a journal devoted to wit, the contents of which are intended to be insightful, amusing or thought-provoking." With an emphasis on architecture and design, the Review is well worth the five stamps that Editor Roy Behrens asks for each issue. He has done the zine for more than a decade, and it's freshly designed and fun to look at. It includes reviews of esoteric books, as well as great quotes and anecdotes taken from the biographies of relatively obscure people. I occasionally send for a copy when I need a dose of wisdom. One tidbit I marked from a recent issue: "Like to design type. Like to jiggle type around and see what comes out. Like to design ornament. Like paper. Like ink on paper. Like bright colors. Handicapped by clock." — W.A. Dwiggins, American typographer and illustrator, in Typographic Milestones. Order a copy and you'll be hooked. (2022 X Avenue, Dysart, IA 52224)
Edited by
Dick Freeman, BNI reviews and celebrates porn films. My favorite
article is Schmeckel Moves to California, about a guy who had
appeared in some adult films in the Seventies and then moved
on with his life. One day his cousin Marvin, a lawyer in Washington,
skipped work to treat himself to a showing of The Candy Stripers.
And there was his cousin Richard getting a blow job in a closet!
I mean, holy shit! So Marvin drove home, got his wife, dragged
her to the movie to confirm what he had seen. She did. Word got
back to Richard, who immediately called his mother (better she
hear it from him) and told her he had done a couple of X-rated
videos a while back and that Cousin Marvin had seen one of them.
Her response? "He goes to see those movies?" After
Richard explained, she said: "You know what I think?"
"What?" he asked. "Pllllbbbbbbb!" she said.
His mom gave him the raspberry! I can only pray my mother will
have the same reaction.
Paul Lukas
isn't interested in the hippest, hottest or latest. He wants
ordinary, and he uncovers it everywhere in the nooks and crannies
of consumer culture. Among other everyday artifacts, Paul has
reviewed the Score-King 50 controlled-weight bowling pin by Brunswick,
666 Cold Preparation with Quinine by the Monticello Drug Co.
and The Enemy Wind, a video of tornado destruction compiled by
the Weather Channel. One of his favorite finds is the Brannock
Device, that shiny chrome contraption used to measure your feet
in shoe stores (Paul wears a 9D). Although Beer Frame christens
it "a perfect combination of the industrial and the aesthetic,"
the New York firm that manufactures the device doesn't want any
ordinary biped owning one: You have to prove you're a shoe salesman
(Paul wiggled around this restriction admirably and now measures
his feet whenever he wants). Other products, such as sauerkraut
juice (as in extract of fermented cabbage), are more mysterious
in their appeal. Although even the people who make kraut juice
won't get near it, enough fans guzzle cans of the putrid liquid
to provide a market for no less than seven varieties. Apparently,
it's a killer laxative.
Aaron travels a lot without much money, kind of the Jack Kerouac for the punk generation, then fills 82 pages with his observations about the places he visits and the people he encounters. Usually I find reading about other people's wanderings about as interesting as looking at vacation photos, but Aaron's outlook is so different from mine (he wears a Mohawk and travels by Greyhound; I just have a Mohawk) that I have always found this to be a great read. It's one of the most popular zines around. Ordering info & interview with Aaron
It's difficult
to believe that 68 pages of illustrations clipped from vintage
magazines, antique children's books and out-of-date catalogs
could be so mesmerizing. Maybe it's the weighty themes such as
sex, death and utensils that Sean Tejaratchi arranges his discoveries
around. He launched Crap Hound to provide underground publishers
with stylish illustrations to spice up their copy-heavy rants.
But his mammoth "picture book of discovery and activity"
works on a different level: It's plain interesting, even without
a pair of scissors and rubber cement. Not surprisingly, Sean's
most popular issue (now out of print) contained hundreds of hilarious
illustrations depicting sex and sexuality, including a full page
of lip prints. This was followed by pages brimming with kitchen
gadgets, mostly blenders and toasters. I like to think of it
as his "hey baby, what's cooking" issue. An earlier
Crap Hound covered death, phones and scissors; Sean's latest
tackles devils, fishing bait and clowns ("I've had a lot
of bad clown dreams lately," he told me."). A visual
feast.
Dishwasher Pete has a mission: Wash dishes in all 50 states. Issue No. 7 finds Pete at a cafe in Boulder, No. 8 at an Alaskan fish cannery, No. 9 at a seafood restaurant in New Hampshire, and No. 11 at restaurants in Montana, California and Ohio (No. 10 was a comics issue). The reason you'll like Pete is that he has a good attitude, and a sense of humor. "Why is there this assumption that dishwashers are at the bottom rung of some sort of career-climbing ladder?" he asks. Writing in a tight, neat scrawl (with no water marks), he lists dishwashing references he finds in novels, describes the wacky people he meets (including a group of priests he stumbled upon as they watched a porn video) and details the mundane ways he kills time. After reading Pete's adventures, I'm as convinced as ever that a clean plate is like a clean soul — you can see yourself in it. ($1 from P.O. Box 8213, Portland, OR 97207). Here's a profile of Pete and here's a story he contributed to This American Life. Marilyn Wann is fat. What's it to you? Her zine, written "for people who don't apologize for their size," is funny, ornery and, dare I say it, sexy. The extra-large issues have included cut-out dolls, flip books ("the incredible expanding Oprah!"), an investigation into the height and weight tables used by life insurance companies to determine who's "normal," a report from Disneyland (Thunder Mountain and the Haunted Mansion are among the roomier rides) and an interview with Wendy the Snapple Lady. Don't get the idea that just because this zine is fat, it's also jolly. Marilyn argues that just as racial and gender differences contribute to the diversity of our society, so does size. "Practice saying fat until it feels the same as short, tall, thin, young or old," she writes in the Fat!So? Manifesto. "And stop lying about your weight on your driver's license!" As Marilyn loves to say, "A waist is a terrible thing to mind!" Marilyn's work is collected in a book. Ordering info & interview with Marilyn Global Mail Global Mail is a "hole to the underground" designed to bring together artists, writers and creative types to network and trade art, letters or zines. Published quarterly, it's organized by sections such as Mail Art, Ad Swaps, Archives, Dreams, Events, Exchanges, Pen Pals, Postcards, Tapes, Text, Zines and a new addition, Web Sites. So why not send Sean of Huntington, West Virginia "unused keys to unused locks" for his art project? Why not order "a catalog of X-rated rubber stamps"? Why not trade "inner vision postcards for a picture of God"? Why not save "grocery receipts from your trip to the grocery store on December 31, 1996" so Joy Johnson can assemble them? Why not write "a description of Robinson Crusoe's dog and its life" for Pat Collins of Middlesex, England? Why not mail Squim of Salt Lake City "a list of 22 crazy, stupid, constructive or destructive things to do so I can schedule them on my calendar and attempt to do at least half of the 484 possible things that I will receive"? Why not drop your favorite book and $10 in the mail to a struggling musician and let her read the book, write a song about it and send you a cassette? Why not help out Franc Borjas, who is "looking for clean healthy women (of red hair preferably) who would help me in attaining enough anal and pubic hair to braid a small ring around the perforation of my nasal septum"? OK, that's enough. Even if you never lick a stamp, Global Mail is a fun read. ($3 from P.O. Box 1309, Grove City, PA 16127) Even though I sold my Richie Rich comic book collection, I still was intrigued by the idea of a zine devoted to Harvey Comics. Besides Richie, there's Little Lulu, Casper the Friendly Ghost, Underdog, Tom & Jerry, Woody Woodpecker, Beetle Bailey, Wendy, the Jetsons, etc. The best article in this issue (Vol 3, No 11) was a detailed examination of the villains Richie has faced, such as the Onion, who used his bad breath to knock you out, and Dr. N-R-Gee, who had a giant light bulb for a head and could start fires. There was also a special appearance once by Richard Nixon! I enjoyed the introduction in one issue written by one of the editors, Amy Arnold: "Why do I like Harvey Comics? I enjoy entering a sweeter, more fun, and magical world. Its crooks are bumbling or easily foiled by smart and good-hearted people. Its moms and dads are nice. Rich people help the poor. Scientists work for the good of mankind without hurting helpless animals. Witches and ghosts want to make friends. And the beauty of it is, the worst criminals, witches, ghosts or other magical bad-guys never kill or torture people." That's it, exactly. ($5 from P.O. Box 2616, Saratoga, CA 95070). Here is the official Harvey site.
Evel Knievel
is no saint, but he sure could ride a motorcycle. He could also
fall off a motorcycle, which is how he became famous. Steve Mandich,
who grew up imitating Evel on a banana seat bike, devotes much
of his zine to the history and legend of the King of the Stuntman.
It's all here, from the soaring attempt to span the Snake River
Canyon in a rocket-powered X-2 Skycycle to the dozens of flights
over buses, demolished cars and casino fountains. A notorious
drinker and womanizer who at one time owed the IRS $7.6 million
in back taxes, Evel retired in 1980 to write poetry and hone
his artistic skills. The daredevil who once soared with the birds
now paints them. His most recent performance was opening for
the singer Beck in New York City, where he showed film clips
of his best crashes. Steve has written a great biography of the
daredevil called Evel Incarnate
and Evel has his own website.
In his first issue, Ralph Coon outlines the history of the driver's education films that scare you into driving 10 mph — for a few days, anyway. He even tracks down Earl Deems, 71, who made 19 of the bloodfests (among them Mechanized Death, Wheels of Tragedy and Highway of Agony), and quizzes the Ohio retiree about his technique. The film I remember from my formative driving days was Red Asphalt, produced by the California Highway Patrol, and Coon ferrets out the genius behind that as well (no, it wasn't Erik Estrada). In the most famous driver-death movie of all time, The Last Prom, a reckless teen plows into a tree and kills his date. "A good boy," says the narrator, "but a bad driver." Ordering info & interview with Ralph Ernest Mann's zine grows on you. He's a retiree who believes that we'd all be better off if we adopted a Priceless Economic System (PES) in which everyone volunteers. Ernest, why don't you start by mowing my lawn? Seriously, his politics may be kooky, but his heart is in the right place. In the back of each issue of Little Free Press, which he's been cranking out since 1969, Ernest talks about adventures like building a raft to sail from Minnesota to New Orleans down the Mississippi River. He's tried six times, constructing rafts with a lady friend out of Styrofoam and plastic milk jugs, but never got much farther than the Greyhound station. Ernest also writes about driving to Mexico to get his teeth replaced (it's much cheaper there, but this was pre-NAFTA). I love how he bargained with the dentist over the price of pulling each tooth. Simple sentiments in a world gone mad. Sadly, Ernest was murdered by his grandson in 1996. R.I.P. In memory of Ernest I have posted some of his writings here, including Squirrel Adventure and How I am Becoming a Free Person. Living Cheap News Larry Roth
is a man after my own heart: "I want to explore the limits
of cheap," he writes. Larry has his limits, however. He
hates people who are cheap at the expense of others, such as
those who won't tip in restaurants. And Larry hints that the
guy who times his bowel movements so he'll be at work to save
on the water bill might be going too far. Besides how-to tips,
Living Cheap also reviews books such as Once-a-Month Cooking
(90 meals in a day to save energy) and reprints readers' letters
about their latest money-saving coups. (Helen from San Diego
complains that grocery clerks won't ring up her items separately
so she can send the receipts in for rebates.) Don't try any funny
stuff by asking Larry for a free sample: You may be cheap, but
a guy's gotta eat. Larry's work has been collected in a book,
Living Cheap News. John Marr
has a knack for writing about the B-side of popular culture.
He spends hours researching natural disasters such as the Great
Boston Molasses Flood of 1919, lesser-known perverts such as
Sylvestre Matuschka, who got off blowing up passenger trains,
and murderers with particularly garish modi operandi. My fave
is the cover story for Issue 13, Death at Disneyland, although
John's most recent issue, Zoo Deaths, comes in a close second.
For his Disney story, John searched through dozens of yellowing
newspapers and books with an eye for tabloid details. The result:
An alternately bone-chilling and hilarious run-down of the people
who have been killed in accidents at the park. You know, stircrazy
daredevils falling off Space Mountain, foolhardy teenagers drowning
in the Adventureland moat, a young worker crushed to death in
the rotating America Sings exhibit. John gives the same treatment
to zoos in Issue 16, teaching by way of several horrifying examples
that polar bears are not warm and cuddly when you climb into
their cages drunk in the middle of the night.
Editor Karl Wenclas kindly mailed me a copy of his dozen pages of single-spaced prose, which begins in Issue 28 with an entertaining screed about Chip's Closet Cleaner and my alleged "yuppieness." (OK, it's true, I separate my recyclables.) Mostly Karl's newsletter is about literature, whether it be novels, short stories or zines. But in the No Frills issue ("no toys, no artwork, no balloons"), Karl takes some time to claim that I represent a growing class of sell-out zinesters. "The zine world is being overtaken by ambitious careerists in suits," he rants. "What other conclusion can be drawn after encountering the news about Chip's Closet Cleaner, a zine put out by an apple-polishing, floor-groveling, gentrified journalist who writes articles for Playboy and American Journalism Review? According to Factsheet Five, Chip (note the preppy name) has abandoned paper altogether and puts his zine out only on floppy disk. Rampant classism at work. How is the zine world supposed to be radical when it's filled with Computerheads like floppy-disk Chip who embody everything the New Capitalist Man stands for?" Karl, I'm flattered by the attention, but don't fall off your high horse. Despite the criticism, New Philistine impressed me as an example of what all zines should be: passionate, cynical and concise. For a buck, you won't be disappointed, especially if you agree with Karl. My mom ordered 15 copies. ($1, P.O. Box 42077, Philadelphia, PA 19101) Office Supply Junkie Office supplies have been getting a bad name lately because a few dim-witted criminals have found them handy for stick-ups. Slick Stew sent me an article he wrote about criminals whose weapons of choice double as office tools. "Since 1981, staplers have been used in at least one murder, one attempted murder, three armed robberies, a police beating of a suspect and a prison uprising," Stew writes. "Since 1989, letter openers have been used in at least five attacks. The mayor of Clearwater, Florida, was killed seven years ago when a man hit him over the head with a hole punch. Office supplies are the perfect tools of crime. There are no licenses required and no waiting periods." Knowing their reputation was in danger, you can imagine how relieved I was to discover Office Supply Junkie. Published by the same wise guy who produces Baby Split Bowling News, the zine in which every article has a reference to America's favorite pastime, OSJ features confessions and interviews with brave souls who openly admit their addiction to all things organized. It's a world where Staples and Office Depot are considered holy mosques, where paychecks are squandered on stackable filing trays, disposable pens, three-ring binders and yellow legal pads. OSJ helped me understand why I felt remorse throwing away the heavy vinyl, slightly grimy binder pages I purchased for 10 cents apiece to store 5 1/4-inch computer diskettes I don't own. If you're good or lucky, you can even find a way to organize the organizers. Ordering info & interview with Julian
Jim Hogshire loves pills. They're colorful, bite-size and effective. They're also so common that most people take them for granted. To remedy that, Hogshire packs PaGG with information and anecdotes about the tablets, capsules, syrups, powders, extracts, tinctures and elixirs that soothe our aches, clear our passages, put us to sleep, keep us awake and help us forget. You'd be hard-pressed to find anyone in North America who hasn't popped a pill for some reason. That massive consumption fuels a $70 billion domestic pharmaceutical industry — and PaGG. Besides reporting on the latest research and government regulation, Hogshire chronicles strange pill criminals (inept smugglers, mostly), explains the science behind the headlines, archives pop culture pill references, unveils hidden side effects, and conducts goofy don't-try-this-at-home experiments such as the effects of drinking an entire bottle of cough syrup in one sitting ("I basically felt transformed into a reptilian version of myself"). Best of all, PaGG is available without a prescription. Jim's work has been collected in a book and Harper's did an article on his adventures with popply tea. Ordering info & interview with Jim Hogshire The Rational Inquirer Much like the Stumpers discussion group on the Internet, which I joined for a while to find out the origins of birthday spankings, the Inquirer is filled with questions and attempts at answers about a variety of non-essential topics. You get some real doozies, such as "Is invisibility possible?" "Why are toilet seats shaped like they are?" "Does a reasonably effective fly trap exist?" "In Wendy's, I asked for a small iced tea. The cashier said, 'I'm sorry, we only have two sizes, medium and large.' How can the smaller of two sizes be called a medium?" "How did coleslaw get its name?" "One of the eight reindeers who pulls Santa's sleigh has been called Donner or Donder. Which is correct?" "Why are Cliff's Notes black and gold?" and even "How did Beavis and Butt-head meet?" The questions are usually fascinating, but the answers tend to be non-committal. You're not hearing from the experts, after all, just a bunch of confused nits like yourself who submit off-the-cuff theories ("It seems to me...."). Still, it's fun as an exercise in community thinking, and unless you're boning up for the LSAT, who cares if the answers aren't definitive? ($1 plus stamp from 33 Gaymor Lane, Commack, NY 11725)
Doug Larkin joined the Peace Corps and took off for Kenya, but during the previous two years he taught science at his old high school in Trenton, New Jersey. If he teaches anything like he writes, he's going to whip out a bunch of Einsteins. In the second issue of Science Geek, Doug writes, "I tried my hardest not to be like those teachers I hated, boring and stuffy. I wanted my kids to love science. I love it, obviously, and to me all the other subjects: language, math, history, literature, all owe their existence to science." One lab he did was to have his students figure out which cereal stays the crunchiest in milk; when he didn't feel much like teaching, he would show reruns of Bill Nye, The Science Guy that a student had taped for extra credit; and four of his best students once tried to cut class by leaving a box of Cap'n Peanut Butter Crunch as a bribe. The rest of the second issue includes record reviews, band interviews, an instruction sheet from the Flinn Scientific Co. about how to use a cow eyeball and acid to demonstrate why you should wear safety goggles, a layman's guide to quantum physics and calculations to answer the question, "How random is a coin toss?" Doug also explains how he keeps a list of questions he hasn't been able to answer handy in case he stumbles across a piece of enlightenment. He discovered how traffic lights work, for instance, after a student revealed her father knew the man who invented them. In other articles, Doug draws parallels between particle accelerators and the pole vault and explains the X-Ray diffractometer and how it can be used to identify substances. When the cops on TV say, "Send it to the lab for analysis," they are thinking of the X-Ray diffractometer. I know I am. ($4 cash or check made out to Doug Larkin — $6 outside North America — from P.O. Box 8641, Trenton, NJ 08650) Slubberdegullion This is the first British zine I've ever reviewed, but Nigel Gardner's essays are well worth the extra postage to request a copy. Nigel lives in Leeds, where I taught at a basketball camp once, so I know how it feels. He has a few zine reviews and letters here, but the soul of Slubberdegullion are Nigel's thoughts on everything from his job as a computer programmer to a girl he knows who used to be a heavy-metal slut. He writes: "These days I come home from work and no longer feel the urge to do something creative to redeem the stolen day. When life seemed really shitty I would sit in front of my computer desperate to write something — anything — that might help make sense of my situation, and I would feel a terrible sense of defeat when I finally fell asleep, as I was being robbed of another day, surrendering another irreclaimable slice of my life. Now it's no big deal." Wish I could get there, Nigel. He also notes: "I'm surprised never to have seen this in print before — that the worse paid a person is the more expensive it would be to replace them with a machine. Take an office cleaner. How much would it cost to develop a machine that could move around an entire office block, scrubbing, polishing and hoovering all the appropriate surfaces, cleaning desks and putting all the papers and clutter back where it was afterwards, replacing toilet rolls, filling soap dispensers, unblocking urinals, etc., etc. More than 2.5 pounds an hour, or whatever office cleaners get paid. And inversely, most of the guys you find at board level could be replaced by second-hand computers." Subway Surfer I like the style of this zine — you can read it without holding on. Subway surfers are young dudes who ride the subway — in this case, in New York — and attempt to remain standing through all the bumps and curves and jerky stops without clutching any supports. The zine is filled with photos of surfers in action, as well as tips and admonishments to "listen and you can hear the subway speak to you. Hear the gleaming steel cars blow out of the tunnel, when the steamy, pissy air vents your hair. Listen to the scream. The roar. The skreeeech. The thumping of the loose rail. Don't cover your ears: Embrace the power of the IRT and do it justice." There's also discussion about which cars and lines are the best to surf ("Warm up on the 7. Hardcore surfing on the 2 express"). Unfortunately, the last cash I sent didn't bring no zine. They must be out surfing. Voices From Spirit Magazine A zine that
includes interviews channeled with the spirits of dead folks.
This issue: Phillis Wheatly, America's first black poet, who
reveals that in the Spirit World, she is a guide for several
young writers still with us (sort of a spiritual thesaurus, I
guess). Also, she explains, "I enjoy my relationship with
the gentleman whose company I keep." Relationships in heaven?
That sounds more like hell. A past issue included a Q & A
with Merlin, friend of King Arthur, and an upcoming one welcomes
the 18th-century mystic, Saint-Germain. Thank you for visiting ChipRowe.com. Comments? |
Are Traffic Laws Really Necessary?
Dishwasher
Fat!So?
New Philistine
Science
Geek