The Kobb Log #8

36 pages, 11" x 8.5", $5.00, Kobb Labs, PO Box 30231, Pensacola FL 32503, USA Another terrific issue from Dr Bill here, the highlight of which is an extensive [21 pages!] overview of jungle babes in movies - 'Jungle Queens of the Silver Screen' by Jim Ivers. Going right back to the silent era of the '20s, Jim covers each decade up to the present day. I found myself madly circling this one and that one. Great stuff. That's the bulk of the issue - the rest is reviews of "weirdfilms" by both Dr Bill and Jim Ivers. Always a wonderful read.

Keeyok Tales #3

56 pages, 8.5" x 6", $5.00, by G-Man & J-Stew >>> find 'em on facebook at Phatsville Comix "Not many people know this, but aside from doing kick-arse comix, J-Stew and I are in a fairly successful 2-piece rock band..." So begins this collection of comix about Giles and J-Stew's band The Inkubators - "It's got "ink" in the title, and it sounds like "masturbators." In the same way they covered their trip to San Diego Comic Con from conflicting perspectives, so they do so here. Giles's version has J-Stew begging him to have a jam and maybe start a band. J-Stew's version has Giles begging J-Stew to have a jam in the hopes of starting a band. It's very funny. But wait! This bizarro world that you're not sure which parts to believe is expanded and complicated (and made even funnier) with the addition of strips by their friends, like Cam-El's 'I Was At Inkubators 1st Gig!' and Brett Weekes's 'The Masturbators'. I really got dragged into this mad spazz rockin' comix world. Great stuff.

Trim #1

ADULTS ONLY! 32 pages, 8.5" x 5.5", $4.00, by Aaron Lange >>> aaronlangecomix [at] gmail [dot] com + www.aaronlange.com published by The Comix Company Here's a new title from the super talented and funny Aaron Lange (see my review of his last comic, Romp, here). But wait a minute. His comix go deeper than simply being 'funny' - the heart and soul of it is some of the heaviest black humour you'll find. And that's good! ... So first up, before the real grim funniness arrives, there's 'Damien Hirst and Me'. The only thing in here that's not a comic, only text. Each point about Hirst is matched with one about Lange. Like this one: Damien Hirst found a patron in Charles Saatchi, who offered to fund whatever work Hirst wanted to create. I sometimes borrow money from my dad. Next is 'At the bar with... Vietnam Tom'. Vietnam vet 'humour' is pretty old, let's face it, but Aaron has a unique spin on it, since Tom (name changed) was a real Vietnam veteran who Aaron actually knew and hung out with. The strip is a collection of things Tom said. There's three pages, and on the last page Aaron drops a bombshell that will really hit you in the guts. Great, strong stuff. Another very funny strip is about William S. Burroughs 'wanna-be's'. The young bohemian proclaims, "When I grow up I wanna be like William S. Burroughs!" A bystander asks, "Are you sure? Do you really want to..." and each subsequent panel illustrates 'highlights' in Burroughs's life, like: "Get hooked on heroin? ... Kill your wife? ... Have a crush on THIS guy?" [Allen Ginsberg]. Then a one-pager, 'Zen Cop'. But the main feature is next. The 14-page 'Dog and Kitty', a brutal autobiographical tale of drug days, and hooking up with the couple of the title - a dealer and his missus, both of whom were into bestiality. This is fucking heavy shit. You're gonna laugh, but it's not an easy laugh because you keep reminding yourself these are real people, and this stuff really happened. Do I have to note that this one is 'recommended'? Get it, big boy.

High Falootin' Funnies

ADULTS ONLY! - 36 pages, 7.5" x 5.5", $4.00, by Jay Bee >>> thesach [at] gmail [dot] com + thecomixcompany.ecrater.com The feature of this one is a 26-page strip, 'Wow, You Draw Comics?' It begins normal enough. A guy is in a coffee shop drawing comics when a girl walks up to him and starts chatting. She really likes comics! The guy can't believe it. I mean, this never happens in real life. Before you know it, the girl invites him back to her place where her flatmates also draw comics. At this point I was sure this was gonna end up a really bad idea, and I wasn't wrong. Back at the girl's place, two guys appear and they soon drug their visitor, then rape and torment him in various other ways. One of the most twisted aspects of this scenario, however, is that while this is happening, the two guys come across like professional comics editors. It's very strange and sinister, and even funny (in a pitch black sense). There are a few short strips at the end of the book. One of them has a robot being released from robot prison. [JB has got this really great and unique thing going on with robots - see my review of his recent Gladhand Comix #1.] Another one-pager, 'Fuck Me!', has JB (?) walking down a street, torturing himself over autobiographical comix. The final 3-page strip, 'He Got No Chopz', presents the nightmarish (for a comics artist at least) scenario of JB at his drawing table being verbally abused and ridiculed by two of his own characters, one of whom is Dev-12 from the previously mentioned Gladhand Comix. Yikes! Wow, JB seems to be quite prolific right now (no doubt thanks in part to Dexter Cockburn and his The Comix Company). Good for us!

Me

Me
4.25" x 5.5", 40 pgs., $4
Neil Fitzpatrick gets personal in this aptly titled comic. Some terrible things happened in Neil's life (a bad break-up being one apparently), so Neil used his comic book making skills as an outlet to deal with it. Having read and thoroughly enjoyed some of Neil's other books, I was excited to explore this one. It did not disappoint. However, here is my dilemma: Neil went through a rough time, and then I got to enjoy reading a comic about it. Sorry, Neil. The truth is, this is stuff most anyone can relate to, which is partly what makes it so good. We go through rough times, we beat ourselves down while simultaneously trying to build ourselves back up, and ultimately we get through it. In the meantime, some of the best art gets made as (for whatever reason) our creative juices flow when life is sucking the most. Hopefully Neil can take heart from that. 
www.neiljam.com

The Recoup #1

The Recoup #1
digest, perfect bound, 42 pages
$5 digital copy/$7 print copy
Joseph Kyle is a music journalist who believes that "a record has no expiration date," and so, frustrated with the lack of coverage older, lesser known bands receive in today's music magazines (even when classic albums are reissued), he decided to do something about it. And that's how The Recoup was born. It's "a journal dedicated to music -  superb, excellent, forgotten-about music." In the debut issue you will find interviews with the drummer of Semisonic, a member of Texas is the Reason, Peter Byrne/Naked Eyes, and Brother. Following the interviews, there are 8 pages of reviews of reissued/classic albums. The issue ends with Joseph discussing his Yoko Ono obsession with a friend of his who shares his obsession. It's a great looking little magazine, and, in my opinion, a very worthy cause.
http://therecoup.wordpress.com
http://www.etsy.com/shop/josephhkyle

Gladhand Comix #1

ADULTS ONLY! 32 pages, 8.5" x 5.5", by JB >>> thesach [at] gmail [dot] com + thecomixcompany.ecrater.com JB seems to have found Bender's evil brother [Dev-12] and presented a bunch of his hi-jinks within these pages. Dev-12 is a robot who is always broke, having spent his dough on such things as Bollywood scripts. He also has sex with human women. He has dreams in which he is human, attends comix & zine fairs, and loses entire nights getting wasted and abusing others on the internet. Among these adventures of Dev-12 are other strips, some wordless and surreal (like the one with the guy pursued and tormented by owls with breasts) and others autobiographical, like the one in which he gets depressed about the quality of his comix so visits a bohemian record collecter to buy some of his records, gets high with the dude while listening to some of those records when a tsunami hits the house, killing the record collector. ... Wait a minute, is this really autobiographical? JB also reveals what happened when Picasso met a young female fan; and flips the jock/nerd dynamic in 'Revenge of the Turds'. The jock here yearns for a nerdy girl, bemoaning the fact that "Nerds have it made!" yet we find out that the nerdy girl is horribly mistreated by her nerdy boyfriend. JB's got this really great ability to take things we think we know and transform them in genuinely surprising ways. Plus he can be very funny! Good stuff.

Burning Building Comix

Burning Building Comix by Jeff Zwirek
6.25" x 12.25" (unfolds to 6.25" x 24.5"), hardcover, 40 pgs., 19.95
Probably the most creatively designed and manufactured comic book I have ever seen. The main book unfolds to reveal two smaller books. Each of the smaller books includes 5 floors of a 10 floor apartment building. Each floor is a separate story, and so each floor is meant to be read individually from bottom to top. However, there is an underlying theme to each story/floor. The building has caught on fire! As you read through each floor, you'll see the reactions of the characters to the fire as they discover it, attempt to put it out, and then ultimately exit the building. This is a silent comic, so all of the "dialog" is shown using various pictures and symbols. This is such a fun read and well worth getting your hands on.
Here is a link for it at Top Shelf Productions.
jeffscomix@gmail.com
www.jeffscomics.com

Temporary Brothers

Temporary Brothers
digest, 16 pages (cardstock cover), $?
A one-shot zine by DJ Frederick Moe. DJ Fred is an only child, despite the longing he had for siblings in his youth. Since he didn't have brothers of his own, he thought of some of his close friends as brothers. This zine profiles a few of DJ Fred's "temporary brothers." "Temporary" because these friendships did not endure...at least not to the same degree as when he "adopted" them. I don't want to give any spoilers. I think you should read this zine for yourself in order to discover the nature of the friendships that DJ Fred had growing up and the adventures he and his "brothers" had. The stories are worth a few minutes of your time. And they are well-written...of course they are - it's DJ Fred. My only complaint: it's far too short. Perhaps there is more to come? DJ Fred alludes to that at one point, so let's hope.
Frederick Moe
36 West Main Street
Warner NH 03278
USA
singinggrove@conknet.com

A Survival Guide for Supply Teachers

A Survival Guide for Supply Teachers (1st Edition)
8 1/2" x 11", 22 pages, $3 (cash money preferred, trades accepted)
To clarify, supply teacher = substitute teacher. I wasn't sure what a supply teacher was at first, so I have to assume that there are others out there who are/were equally ignorant. And now on with the review...
Gary's zine is - exactly as the title suggests - advice for new (and experienced) supply teachers. Gary covers it all, from what to do in order to get supply teaching jobs, what to expect once you've received jobs, what to do when trouble arises while on the job (and Gary assures us that it will from time to time), what to do at the end of a job, and how to get more jobs in the future. This zine is quite comprehensive despite its length, and considering that I have never supply taught and do not plan to, I was surprised by how interested I was in the subject matter. Perhaps it is because my dad has been an elementary school teacher for more than 30 years now. Or maybe it is because Gary has a very approachable and engaging writing style. Probably both. Seriously, this is worth checking out. The only suggestion I would make as far as improvements go would be to add more personal anecdotes, tell more stories. Five plus years of supply teaching should provide some pretty entertaining/interesting stories. Perhaps we can expect to see that in a future edition...if there is one. So, here's my plan: everyone within reading distance of this review gets their hands on a copy of this zine so that Gary feels compelled to put out a second edition. Should work.
Gary Flanagan
3-42 Spring Street
Saint John, NB
E2K 3X5
Canada
muzikman84@hotmail.com

Flea

16 pages, 6" x 4", The Usual, Neale Blanden, PO Box 1173, Huntingdale VIC 3166, AUSTRALIA + beautifulartform.blogspot.com + nlblndn [at] gmail [dot] com Wordless comics? I hate 'em! Well, mostly. There's always an exception, and Flea here is one of those. This absolutely charming wordless* comic begins with a flea on a lounge room floor. A dog walks into the room. The flea is hungry. The flea sees the dog. No need to say any more. Get it. [* Note: The final page does contain some words.]

I Am My Own Stereotype: The My Small Diary Collection

I Am My Own Stereotype: The My Small Diary Collection
5.5" x 8.5", 112 pages, perfect bound, $8 + $2 shipping ($6 shipping outside of U.S.A)
Delaine has been writing diary comics for at least 20 years. She publishes her comics in her zines (My Small Diary and Not My Small Diary) as well as various other zines. This book compiles three out of print My Small Diary books and includes 40 additional pages. Each page in this book is a single comic strip, and (for the most part) the content is (as the title suggests) basically a diary entry in comic form - highlights from Delaine's life. The artwork is simple, the writing is concise, and the book leaves the impression that Delaine is a spirited and adventurous person who loves life. Diary comics run the risk of coming across as overly narcissistic and self-indulgent, but Delaine's book largely avoids falling into this trap. Instead Delaine comes across as a sincere and generous person, happily sharing the (oftentimes mundane) happenings of her (occasionally charmed) life. It's all in good fun, exactly the way entertainment for entertainment's sake should be.
www.mysmallwebpage.com
DELANGEL3@hotmail.com
 

Turbo Supermax #3

40 pages, 8.5 x 6", $5.00, Ryan Vella, Lot 18 Homebush Road, Walkerston QLD 4751, AUSTRALIA Turbo Supermax is back, and out for vengeance. The White Triangle Club (a multi-team Christian supersquad) has killed his little pal Moss, and it's payback time. But before he can get to WTC leader Halohawk, he's gotta get past the shitbombing powers of Mr Scat; the teeth-spitting Muzzle; Spasmo and his epileptic berzerker rage seizure attack; the gorgeous but deadly Beehive (she attacks with swarms of bees that appear from her beehive hairdo, of course!); and many others that I will leave for you to discover. Ryan's imagination for creating supervillains doesn't look like slowing down any time soon, since yet again there's just about a new superbaddie introduced on every page (and in Rebekah Bell's TV news reports that bookend each issue, often three per page). There's also a two-page Turbo strip at the end of this issue - written by Ryan and drawn by fellow Bananalander Shaun Craike.

Last Night at the Casino #4

52 pages, 5.5" x 4", $3.00, trades OK, Billy Roberts, iknowbilly [at] gmail [dot] com + bunnyears.bandcamp.com [Note: Billy is in the middle of moving right now so asked me to sit tight and not send anything to his old Bernalillo NM address] This was one of those zines that I'd read reviews of, it sounded really great, so I had it on my list to write/trade for. Well, I procrastinated until, what do you know, one day a couple of weeks ago I got one of Billy's Last Night at the Casino zines in the mail! The Cosmic Forces meant for us to trade zines. These are powerful forces indeed that the evils of procrastination don't stand a chance against. Anyway, the title gives a pretty big hint what you're getting here - Billy works at a casino and this zine is full of stories about his experiences with punters and fellow casino workers, and the different games he has worked at (craps, roulette, blackjack, etc). I think that if I had to come up with a list of ten work zines I'd wanna read, a casino zine would definitely be in there. Billy includes so many great anecdotes and inside stories about this mysterious world, this is the kind of zine I just plow through and I'm at the end before I know it. One of my favourite pieces in here is 'A Broad Generalization of Standard Casino Personality Types'. There's The Neurotic Number Cruncher, The Super Cute Girl Who is Super Addicted to Gambling, The Big Titty Floozies, The Lucky Drunk-Ass, The Gentle Elderly Man, and The Tourist on Vacation. The Number Cruncher is the funniest to me - "Each time he loses and his system fails, he curses under his breath, writes down what happened, and then realizes that the cycle of the "system" must be larger than he thought." Last Night at the Casino isn't just a great work zine, it's a great zine zine. Get get.

The Kobb Log #6

36 pages, 11 x 8.5", selected trades I'd say - mainly for other B-movie zines, Dr. Bill, Kobb Labs, PO Box 30231, Pensacola FL 32503, USA The monkeys at the lab have run amok, so Dr. Bill has handed the bulk of this issue's content to Jim Ivers, who does an excellent job, starting with his Aliens Invade Hollywood: A Brief History (Part 3), a terrific 7-page look at alien-focused movies from the '70s to the present day (that is, movies such as Super 8, Prometheus, and Battleship). The other excellent Ivers piece is his The Lost World of Prehistoric Women That Time Forgot, covering cavegirl movies from the '50s to the present. This was a real joy to read, with Jim's witty and hilarious comments coming thick and fast. Here's an example from his review of Italian gem 'When Women Had Tails' [1970]: "...since spy films were becoming passe, the nation that gave us Fascism and Roberto Benigni returned to its old stock-in-trade: unfunny sex comedies. The story was co-written by the eccentric whack-job Lina Wertmuller." Dr. Bill himself kicks the issue off with a great introduction followed by Mailing Comments relating to the long-running Southern Fandom Press Alliance #292. [The Log is in fact part of this, but obviously Dr. Bill makes it available as a stand-alone zine.] This is an easy recommendation for anybody into B-grade, genre, or exploitation movies. Really great stuff. It made my bus rides to and from work pass much too quickly.

Elephant Mess #27

Gardening is for Eaters

Gardening is for Eaters
digest, 24 pages, $?
This is Laura-Marie and Ming's new gardening zine. Laura-Marie has been involved with gardens and gardening for much of her life but had found the experience to be mostly frustrating - until now. The gardens she has created and worked on with Ming have given her a newfound passion for gardening and a new level of satisfaction with her gardens. And so to share the excitement, she created this zine. In it she lists all of the plants that are growing in her gardens and includes a brief statement about each one. Then she interviews Ming about permaculture, Jade about food gathering, and Marcus about biointensive farming. This is a fun and informative zine, but it has left me wanting more, so I'm hoping that future issues are in the works.
robotmad@gmail.com
www.dangerouscompassions.blogspot.com

RIP Tom Crites

A tribute to Tom Crites [Malefact, Paniscus Revue, Planarian Liberation Army]

Dithering Doodles #5

36 pages, 8.5 x 5.5", $2.00 or trade, Steven Anderson, 259 E 700 S, SLC UT 84111, USA + premiumdeluxe [at] hotmail [dot] com It sure was a pleasant surprise to receive an envelope of zines from Steven, with a real actual hand-written (in texta!) letter and all! He sent me his Dithering Doodles zines #1-5, but for now I'm just gonna write about #5. I really haven't seen a zine like this. It's unique. Usually a zine will be like a perzine, with writing, or a comix zine, or a punk rock zine or whatever - pretty consistent material all the way through. With Dithering Doodles, on the other hand, Steven mixes up cut'n'paste images, doodles, maze puzzles he drew, some very funny comments from his "biggest fan" Donovan (whose father told him to shut up and eat his hamburger sandwich), random thoughts (mostly of a finely twisted humorous bent), and longer diary entry type pages. One of these is about how he lost his job because he was drawing pictures on the inside flaps of cardboard boxes his company was shipping out to customers and one humourless jerk customer complained and wrote to his boss saying, "This guy obviously has too much time on his hands." Another one is about how his karate dojo closed because kids these days are either too busy playing video games, or switching over to mixed martial arts. Then a page about why and how he got into karate. It's all written in a really natural, likeable style. Well, that just covers half the issue. I'm gonna get back to it, then read his back issues to examine the development of this very enjoyable zine, which I recommend to you, reader!

Bring on the Dancing Horses

By Shaun
PO Box 1282
Fullerton, CA
92836, USA

Bring on the Dancing Horses is another zine by the author of There is a Danger, which I reviewed last month. It covers much of the same material as that zine (bicycle trips, exploring, abandoned buildings), but is much longer, and perhaps because of this is able to have more of a narrative in places.

Specifically there's a lot written about a giant squat Shaun stayed in while in New York City, the people he met while he lived there, the adventures they had, and how they were eventually evicted. As a person who enjoys abandoned buildings, urban exploration, dumpster diving, and adventures, this stuff really appealed to me, and Shaun's accounts of hiding in dark rooms filled with junk while the police walked by, or sleeping in a cleaned out elevator control room successfully managed to paint pictures in my mind.

I read Shaun's zine at a very specific time when it may have had more of an impact on me than even a week ago. I have a full-time job I find to be (while somewhat worthwhile) incredibly boring. My plan was to work until August, visit some friends and family, and then start a new chapter of my life in another city in September. I have recently discovered that this new chapter will not be what I had planned, but will instead be something currently entirely mysterious to me. While some find this liberating, I've spent the last seven years of my life feeling fairly rudderless, and had hoped to have a goal slightly longer than "pay this month's rent". While I can work my boring job if I have something to look forward to, I now wonder why I should even bother with my job, and whether I should, like Shaun, give up on the capitalist society we exist in, and become more outside it than I already am, rejecting societal norms, and existing as a scavenger. This was only cemented by the sudden onset of spring, and days with 20 degree weather (to all the Americans that read this remember that I live in Canada, so this is actually warm).

PostScript: Included with Shaun's zines I received a letter that described what his zines were about. One small piece really stood out to me. It was about how part of this zine was about "a girl (always a girl...)", and really, that's kind of true. For a certain type of person, there is always a girl. One that you find, one that you leave behind, one that you remember.

Excerpt (I don't usually do these, but thought I should for this zine):

I woke up early and set off into the building, flashlight in hand and a feeling of vertigo from the sheer size of the labyrinthian halls, the multiple wings and adjoined church left eerily empty and bathed in dust and stained-glass light, and so much detritus from its past lives as a community center. On the third floor was the main room, lined by open windows whose glass had been removed, now letting light, noise and breeze flow lushly throughout the room. Most other windows in the building were boarded up, allowing in only a small sliver of light through the triangular wedges cut from the bottom of each plywood sheet. This made nearly every room dark, menacingly silent, and possessed of so many odd and curious details of which one could mine a litany of scenarios and theoretical explanations for.

On the lower floors were the large performance theater and basketball court. Chairs were scattered about the floor, a painted set remained standing on the stage, and a tall laddered-platform on wheels sat in the middle of the room. It was hard to know if these all were left in carless [sic] abandonment or if they were the remains of some squatter-party, as Bowery Manor at once appeared both the elegiac remnants of a once-bustling community space forced out by the city of New York and a boundless playground for those who stumbled upon the shell, determined to breathe life back into it. Unfortunately, the building being closed off meant that it was illegal to be anywhere on the property, and anyone coming or going or inside Bowery Manor had to be ware of any police of HPD presence around the building. Thus, besides the metal door installed by the kids and secured with chains and padlocks, the first floor also had a large metal beam wedged between the stairs and the rollgate, the only accessible entrance to anyone who did not want to squeeze through the sledgehammered hole beneath the tarp or climb through a second story window.

Debris lined the floor nearly everywhere you looked - phone books, paper, clothes, boxes full of completely useless objects, nearly any imaginable functionless item could probably be found somewhere on the floors or shelves or in the drawers or in any of the other nooks and crevices in the building. In some rooms, you were not stepping on any floor at all but on the slippery and unstable mountains of old magazines, computer equipment, kitchen tools, CD cases. The swimming pool in the basement was filled to an even six inches below the brim, not with water but with junk.

(Originally written for 365 Zines a Year.)