Zine Review: Psionic Plastic Joy #17
Psionic Plastic Joy
digest / $2
Jason Rodgers
PO Box 62
Lawrence MA 01842
So now we come to it – the absurdity of writing paper zine reviews within an online blog called One Minute Zine Reviews. I’m plagued by this dichotomy all of the time, and often teeter on the edge of abandoning the digital world altogether. I use the internet as a tool, I remind myself. But what is the tool and who is the user? Or who is the tool and what is the user?
Jason Rodgers has released Psionic Plastic Joy, issue number 17, a compendium of articles, imagery, semi-dadism, anarchy, and beautiful nonsense. The two primary essays in this issue are thematically linked by references to the domestication of humans, which I suspect allows for our enslavement by consumerist culture: Jason delves into concepts of psychic nomadism as a means to remove our shackles, and John Zerzan stares into the eyes of what we call happiness, and doesn’t blink. These articles are both well written and articulate thoughts beyond the typical curve of acceptable discourse in this frenzied and distracted culture. Psionic Plastic Joy also includes a fantastic allegory (parable?) titled “The Tale of One Thousand and One Words” which describes an encounter between The Cook, the Waitress, the Dishwasher and Trickster.
Psionic Plastic Joy is unapologetic about being suspicious of technology, which I am grateful to read for a change. Every email we send, skype call we make, google search we do, etc is monitored by someone, and we just don’t care anymore. We have met Big Brother and he (and she) is us. At least paper mail has to be opened and resealed, and yes that happens too (witnessed by my own receipt of a QSL card from Radio Havana).
By questioning our domestication and creating actions that bring us one step closer to freedom, we can reimagine our lives. Psionic Plastic Joy is a zine about that journey of reimagining and re-creation.
Another sweet song from the Singing Grove.
ReplyDeleteFunny he totally forgot to mention my contribution. Oh, well, it's just a function of the unforgiving minute, I suppose. Maybe my piece was too negative. That's a big no-no these days.