#1: A political/music zine out of Ireland by a young upstart called Crazyman. He feels that "Democracy is Dead" and the solution is to run for political office. Okay, go for it, have fun! Hee hee. Actually, I like how this zine covers a good variety of music reviews (and I'm not just saying that because there are reviews of artists I like including myself.) The zine includes gig reviews and music essays as well and by contributing writers too. I also like the short prose, both the one by the editor, "Thought's on the Homeless," and the one by Andy N., "School." This is a refreshing zine because of the broad music coverage and enlightened political views. Reviewed by thrill racer. £2 to Angry Left Wing Mofo, "St. Jude's," Knocknagoran, Omeath, Co. Louth, Ireland. Or contact alwm2003@yahoo.co.uk

Man, I really don't want to write these reviews. I am sitting here on the couch, listening to They Might Be Giants and reading High Times Magazine (featuring Pauly Shore) instead of thinking about zines. And this one's my favorite. Jesse Reklaw does the comic "Slowwave" where he illustrates his readers' dreams, but now he's found, in a recycling bin, "confidential Ph.D. applicant files for the biology department at an Ivy League University from the years 1965-1975." This is the resulting zine. Each page has a short comment about and yearbook photograph of a different person; and while the choices in clothing and personal grooming of the time are cute, the words from the folks' previous employers and teachers provide the real fun. I just randomly turned to a melancholy woman who won't even look into the camera, whose quote advises she "does not work too well with her hands." On the page opposite her is a glib hotshot who "during his comprehensive examination at the end of his senior year took umbrage at a major question which was asked, and instead of answering, fired off a criticism of the question." This is great to pass around with friends, have everyone pick their favorite. Be the life of the party! Reviewed by Marc. [$2 / mini / 48 pp. / copied] Jesse Reklaw, PO Box 11493, Berkeley, CA 94712-2493.

#13: A personal/comic zine that's not what you expect. While these types of zines tend to be humorous this one is serious and heart wrenching. It documents a bad time at the end of 1999 in author/illustrator Carrie McNinch's life. It starts off with a phone call in August, which triggers a horrific memory of childhood incest (her big brother having his way with — raping — her.) She then turns to her old pal, the alcoholic beverage. Her life starts spinning out of control; she breaks up with her long distance girlfriend in two takes (and the zine includes lots of break up anecdotes, like "How a Bad Pop Song Can Become Meaningful.") She confesses to the reader that she's an alcoholic liar, she eventually wants to drown herself, and in the end she starts regaining some semblance of her life and thinking less about drinking. The drawings depict the story well. When she's wasted she looks like complete hell. She's also often shown naked in bed and if it weren't for the female parts you might mistake her for a male. The pages also reveal this little symbol; a rag doll with its mouth stitched up and a broken heart. That's a lot of confession in a quality zine for only $1! Reviewed by thrill racer. Carrie NcNinch, P.O. Box 481051, Los Angeles, CA, 90048. Asswhine@hotmail.com

##11 & 12. So back in January I told the story of how I met the girl who makes this comic years ago when I was working at a Staples office superstore, and how I got her issue #1 free after grossly under-charging her on copies. This led to us trading zines just recently, but let me tell you it took forever. I had to wait until I saw her at the Anarchist Book Fair in March, where I introduced myself again. Until then, she had been citing the high cost of postage as why she hadn't yet sent anything. In an e-mail after the second in-person encounter, however, bitter pie said she had been freaked out by the letter that I sent along with my zine, months ago, but the trade stands. I don't know what I could've written — I tried conducting all of my zine business moderately drunk for a while there. She reminded me that I used the word "sellout", which I'm sure I meant in reference to her drinking Starbucks the time she came into Staples, and not at all the pins, stickers, and T-shirts she sells with the logo "not your bitch". Anyway, learn from my lesson. Be careful with sarcasm (even more so irony!). The two issues I have of bitter pie now are nothing to sneeze at. Twelth issue's about the main character, Charlotte, becoming a one-woman Casio band to the delight of few. In the end she's smoking pot and broke. Eleventh features some really long acid trippy holiday with a Brit guy, a transvestite, Charlotte, other people. There's some confronting-dad-for-sex-abuse graphic violence. In the end she's smoking pot, broke, and alone. Grotesque art, especially when Charlotte is drawn crouching, naked from the waist down, shitting alongside a highway. Order this but don't send any freaky letters. Reviewed by Marc. [$2 / digest / 20 pp. each / copied, comes with a sticker] bitter pie, PO Box 411194, SF, CA 94141. notyourbitch.homestead.com

#2. Well. Remember the Gallagher comedy special Stuck in the 60s? The front of this has a young heterosexual couple from the American 1930s, primmed and apparently in an early stage of courtship, holding two smooching fishes. Offset printed with a shiny cover, and wholly dedicated to "Vaudevillian Dandyism, Anachronistic Magnificence, Decadent Foppery & Tin Pan Alley Treasures". And it comes with a phonograph of music from the period. It's a complimentary copy, so I gave away the blue vinyl EP. (Meaning I won't begin to tell that I had my friend dub a tape, since I don't own a turntable, but then recorded over it on purpose with the soundtrack from Colors.) Thanks, anyway. I founds parts of this to be tolerable, light reading, like the mini bio of Sadakichi Hartmann, the article on bowler hats, and the Oscar Wilde of course. The rest could be worth a glance. My one complaint, ignoring the ridiculous cost, is there are loads of typos — and of all kinds. Misspellings; decades with an apostrophe before the "s" (notice how I did "60s" above); and at the bottom of one page, a paragraph ends mid-sentence, never to be continued. Astounding! And remember the part in Ghost World where Enid says she would like to dress only in vintage clothing, but then she'd look like an ass when she went to Taco Bell or the mall? I like a retro zine with an e-mail address. Reviewed by Marc. [$10 / tabloid / 52 pp. / printed, color cover] BUA Productions, 1701 Broadway #347, Vancouver, WA 98663. buaprod@teleport.com, 360-816-2030; call and try to talk 'em down on the price.

#12: This little publication is not so much a zine as it is a slice of a novel, although, seemingly based on the author's life. I've never seen any previous issues of Burn Collector, but this one is about a man in his early 30s struggling through a freezing Chicago winter and having an emotional breakdown to some music from his adolescent collection (Judas Priest.) The depression seems to stem from his parents divorcing when he was thirteen. "This is the soundtrack to another me, a me inside of me, who at thirteen wanted to die from feeling a weight so monumental that I could not bear to live with it." The book includes photos of the places he visits in Chicago. Throughout the story the narrator works on an astronaut painting and on the back cover is a drawing of a faceless astronaut floating helplessly like a ragdoll. Reviewed by thrill racer. $3 to Stickfigure distro, PO Box 55462, Atlanta, GA 30308.

"My Crush On Monty Banks". Not really a comic, but a well-illustrated story that requires few words. Kelly falls for a spazzy bald lounge act one night, what with his flirty on-stage patter and the liquor. An entertaining disaster follows. One girlfriend surmises of Kelly, "Oh no, she's still on her Drew Carey kick." I like this one. Reviewed by Marc. [$? / digest / 12 pp. / copied] Same address as Unlucky with Pets. kelly@221colab.org

(Issue #6): There are about 1,250,000,0000 souls living in the Western world (this can vary by about half a billion, depending on how you define *Western*). . .most of the 1.25 billion is a nameless, faceless mass of little people. . .anonymous drones who have enough material wealth to live fairly comfortable lives. . .tens of millions of these human ants live lonely lives. . .no immediate family, just a few friends from work or the apartment building, etc. . .how do these isolated ants fill all the empty places in their souls? Clutch, the semi-melancholic soul behind this zine, tries to connect to the larger world around him via this harmless comix diary, in which he reduces his life to four daily 1 ¾ inch x 1 ¾ inch square panels of petite existentialism. Library worker Clutch fills the long hours and small panels of his life with movies, Portland Trailblazers basketball games, arts'n'crafts projects with homely platonic female friends, comic books, vegan taste treats and plenty of napping and sleepiness. The recurrent napping/sleepiness of Mr. Clutch is, of course, a symptom of the isolated Western drone's restless pursuit of busyness and distraction. . .witness the two panels from 27 March 2002 which are labeled "This morning I walked around downtown for a while/Went to an arcade with a bunch of old video games" and testify to the Sisyphean task of make-life. . .the original art work for these two panels should be immediately enshrined in the Spiritual Holocaust Museum dedicated to the victims of Western Materialism (with this in mind, it is indeed fitting that the cover artwork to #6 features the image of a burning $1 bill, with Mr. Clutch replacing George Washington and sporting the name *McBastard,* suggesting Clutch's either conscious or subconscious awareness of his status as a bastard child of a Heavenly Fatherless nation). Reviewed by The J Man.
 
(Issue #8): Not much more can be said about this icon from the Spiritual Holocaust Museum than was already stated in the review of #6. . .so we are left to speculate on the one artistic enigma of the 4 panel per day comix diary: the character of Fred the barber, faithful friend to Mr. Clutch. While the rest of the comic is drawn in the simple realism of second-rate Groening (Mr. Clutch looks like a thin, bespectacled adult version of Bart Simpson), Fred the barber is drawn as a potato with toothpicks for arms and legs. . .also, Fred is almost always pictured carrying what looks like either a doughnut or a bagel. . .what is the meaning of this? I was almost intrigued enough to sit down and write a letter asking about the symbolism. . .then I remembered the reaction of the great psychotic Artaud, when a critic requested an explanation concerning his hallucinogenic biography of Heliogabalus: "How dare you ask such a question! All that matters is that I have created something beautiful!" So we simply accept Potato Fred and his security bagel as the aberrations they are from the otherwise numbingly *normal* life of Mr. Clutch. Reviewed by The J Man. $1.00 (worth the price on its educational, not entertainment, merits). P.O. Box 12409, Portland, OR 97212.

(#5): Bunch of brief excerpts/ads for comix zines and an interview with a comix ziner named Nicole G. Remember when only famous people used to be interviewed? Now every Tom, Dick and Nicole G. who prints a 200 circ zine is fawned over like they are R. Crumb or somebody. *Vanity of vanities, saith the Preacher, vanity of vanities; all is vanity.* I mean, the person who interviews Nicole G. actually asks "your drawings seem so natural. Do you struggle with your art or does it come easily?" Please. Let's be serious. Van Gogh struggled with his art. Da Vinci dissected cadavers so he could do accurate life drawings. So let's not elevate every little 50 cent comic into the Book of Kells. Reviewed by The J Man. 50 cents (I suppose this is fair if you are into this kind of thing). PO Box 697, Portland, OR 97207-0697.

Since this is a cook zine I figured I should at least make one recipe before I review the thing so I made "Buttermilk Biscuits" (all the recipes seem to be vegan which is good, although many call for ready made products) and they turned out lovely! I'm even impressed I didn't burn them with my new strange gas oven (I did lower the temperature by 50º, however.) Although, the writers should've said which type of flour they used because I used unbleached white and I had to add heaps more flour before a sticky mess turned into actual dough. Another suggestion I'd make for the zine is to do something about the strange handwriting style which can be difficult to read. ¶ Since I reviewed The Cheap Vegan last month, but hadn't actually tried any of the recipes I just want to mention that I've since made the "veggie broth" twice and it's a cool recipe! You save your veggie end pieces in the freezer and then can make veggie stock whenever you need it for a recipe. ¶ Anyway, Cookbook City doesn't have a price on it, but they do have an e-mail address: CookBookCity@hotmail.com Reviewed by thrill racer.

(#6): Slices-of-kooky-lives drawings which the publisher Androo refers to as "odd little picture fictions." Androo is the sort of benign eccentric who leaves a loaded camera in a bus station in Wyoming with a note asking anyone who finds it to shoot some photos and then mail them to him (the subject of the "odd little picture fiction" on p. 5). This took about 5 minutes to read, but it was a valuable 5 minutes, reminding me once again that not all Amerikans are plastic McPeople action figures. . .there is still a sizeable fringe of foolhardy souls seeking the narrow way of authentic existence. Reviewed by The J Man. 50 cents (worth 75 cents). Androo Robinson, 2000 NE 42nd Avenue #303, Portland, OR 97213.

(#1): Cavegrrrl's manifesto urging teens to drop out of the hellish Amerikan Way of Life (the 18 years of schoool/40+ years of work nightmare) and become 21st century hunter/gatherers (meaning a life of dumpster diving, squatting and shoplifting). . .I hope millions of teens read this and take her advice and stop their metamorphosis into soul-less worker bees. . .though by the time they are 30 years old they will probably have to find more sophisticated activities for filling all their free time than those presently advocated by Cavegrrrl: "Sneak into concerts. Practice guerilla urban gardening. Skateboard. Learn to juggle. Cook vegetarian meals for the homeless," etc., etc. . .after all, there are not too many more pathetic sights than some 30 year old shoeless male in ragged Levis hanging around a college campus juggling while armies of oblivious young Amerikan students march past. . .at age 30 these useless eaters (and *useless* is a positive label) ought to put down their hackey sacks and pick up some bricks and start smashing all the plate glass windows at the nearest Chubby Behemoth Mart. . .for when I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things. But this is a nice starter book for youngsters who want to reclaim the first degree of their humanity. Reviewed by The J Man. $?donation (worth requesting. . .or just rent *Repo Man*. . .whichever is easier). CrimethInc., P.O. Box 1963, Olympia, WA 98507. Cavegrrrl@excite.com

One sadly endearing trait in zine people is how everyone knows their own publishing history so exhaustively. "Well, this is my ninth issue, but it's only #8. That's because #4 was a split with my friend Karley's zine, which actually came out right after my #5. Then I did another split, but I didn't like that one much so I called it issue #6.5, which came out after my #7." And the audience is oblivious. Such is the case with Fish with Legs, "The Bootleg Edition". To me, it feels like just another issue, but whatever. The title works, because "bootleg" here implies something appropriated, and that is just what Eric does (openly) to the format of another zine (if I didn't just ruin the joke). Eric says that he decided to give the daily journal entry style of Jay Koivu's Mr. Peebody's Soiled Trousers a try, as a New Year's resolution, and if for no reason but to keep himself writing. Unsurprisingly, he is skipping days by January 3. When he does keep schedule, it's . . . Well, the polite term for Eric's style is "verbose". Lots of childhood memories, from early ones (watching All in the Family and asking: "Mom, what's a 'wop'?") through adolescence (his dad dying and Eric having to see a gossipy shrink). Not too shabby. Reviewed by Marc. [$1 and a stamp / digest / 32 pp. / copied] Eric Lyden, 224 Moraine St., Brockton, MA 02301-3664. ericfishlegs@aol.com

#16: Wow, it's a zine based in my hometown and I've never heard of it. I looked through the credits and even saw the name of someone I wrote about in my zine. Well, forget him. Anyway, the main feature in this zine seems to be a long listing of news stories that involved Satanism. You'll remember some of those stories, but I guess the point is the editor has an interest in the topic. There's also a story where the editor, Larry, and his buddy (two old beer guzzlers) go to the prom with some little teenyboppers. That sounds fun. I want to go to the prom too. Does it matter that I'm 28? There's an article called "Exhibit 'A': Welcome Back SOMA" (Soma is or was a music club here in San Diego) which is a printing of excerpts from a document that doesn't tell the reader anything other than the plaintiff repeated himself a lot in his complaints. But the interesting part is it said we can go to the courthouse and view public court records. I want to go find out if the morons who took me to court have been taken to court a lot themselves and that's why they thought they could persecute me. So, I can just go to the courthouse and find out? It sounds too easy. So anyway, this zine seems to focus on the seedier aspects of life: Satanism, curses, orgy houses, fucked up "People From the Valley," hot dog on a stick applications, and punk rock reviews. If it sounds like your style then get it! Reviewed by thrill racer. $3 to P.O. Box 15237, San Diego, CA, 92175, www.geneticdisorder.com

How to be positive about something comprised entirely of reprinted articles. Well, it sure is thick. And I'm relieved that they're not using the word "zine" as a verb in the title; at first blush, I thought this was an instructional manual for first time self publishers. (Not that there isn't a lesson in all the stolen material.) No, this is a compendium of D.I.Y. stories from the editor's favoritest zines. Tips on sleeping in university libraries, developing photos the vegan way, changing your car's oil, making envelopes . . . and smashing the state when time allows. This often reads like The Best of Scam Zine, with it appearing, say, half a dozen times (that was a guess). The article (from Scam) about printing 12,000 bogus Starbucks coupons for free coffee and passing them out in San Francisco's financial district steals it, because the nearby stores actually honor them for a few hours. I also appreciated the nuts n' bolts article from Clamor Magazine about male sexuality — not so much for knowledge gained but because it mentions "orgasms that make your feet twitch". I have a tendency toward the same and, until now, considered screening for Parkinson's disease. How to make peanut butter and sunflower seed bird feeders, how to play guitar and make paper, advice on gardening. At this point, I admit that I don't have the zine in front of me anymore and am guessing at the content. Reviewed by Marc. [$2 or $3 / digest / 112 pp. / copied] PO Box 14523, Richmond, VA 23221. How2distro@hotmail.com

(#20): Zine about exploring off-limits places. Sounds like it would be an interesting read, but the truth is, you can only read so many pages about guys who get boners from crawling in tunnels and caves and sewers before the ol' eyelids get heavy. Skim 2 or 3 pages before bedtime and you'll sleep like the dead. Reviewed by The J Man. $2 (not really worth it unless you have a crawling-through-feces fetish). P.O. Box 13, Station E, Toronto, ON, M6H 4E1, Canada. ninj@infiltration.org, www.infiltration.org

(#28): Brief summary of the blossoming love affair between ziners Kelley and Chip that, for some reason, the publisher of Kerbloom finds inspiring, but reads as a rather humdrum courtship between two unexceptional penpals. There was nothing else to offer to the world than this? The mating ritual of two human Frisbees? Please, don't publish just to publish. . .save a tree and all that eco good stuff. Reviewed by The J Man.
 
(#35): Publisher confesses that while she is an anarchist and a strong critic of patriarchy, in her *romantic relationships* she is essentially a female doormat. Reading between the lines of this confessional, one senses the publisher has a fetish for Black men ("He survived an upbringing no child should have to endure and currently resides in a racist society that continues the brutality"). . .she goes on to lament "of all the times I used my body as a shield to protect a lover from all that this system dishes out, I haven't protected myself." Well, what can I say other than that there are tens of thousands of chubby, nerdy, myopic White guys who would for happily-ever-after treat you like a fairy tale Princess just for an occasional hj. . .hope this helps. Reviewed by The J Man. $? (skip it). Artnoose, PO Box 3525, Oakland, CA 94609.

(#60): There used to be a zine titled *Angry Thoreauan*. . .King-Cat could be titled *Sad-Sack Thoreauan,* as nothing seems to work out quite right for the downtrodden nature-lover who publishes this comix & stories zine. For example, one day the publisher John decides to explore a new trail in his favorite nature preserve. . .the path proves especially difficult to navigate, giving John the hope some glorious new wilderness area awaits at the end as a reward. . .but no, all he finds is a pond full of garbage, old tires, even a washing machine. . .to top it all off, he gets a tick infestation. Later John begins a quest to fulfill an oft times-delayed green fantasy: a journey to Morris, IL to see Illinois' tallest tree (woo-hoo) which he sees marked on the state atlas. . .but after a long, solitary car drive to the state park which is home to the famous cottonwood, John learns from the old bag who runs the park info station that the tree was knocked down in a windstorm 10 years earlier. . .doh! (moral of the story: update your atlas at least once every five years). But no matter how many times John ends up as the bug, and not the windshield, he remains of good cheer, his spirits lifted by the simplest pleasures, such as the twilight glow of the early night sky or his Simon & Garfunkel greatest hits tape. . .unlike most Amerikans, he sees the wisdom in Paul's simple philosophy: "For I have learned, in whatsoever state I am, therewith to be content I know both how to be abased, and I know how to abound: every where and in all things I am instructed both to be full and to be hungry, both to abound and to suffer need." Reviewed by The J Man. $2.00 (worth $1.00). P.O. Box 881, Elgin, IL 60121.

(#4): LPD (Longa Piedunga Domo) is a comix zine about Negro and Caucasian giantesses who have huge breasts and super-long toenails. . .in one *adventure,* a man and a woman are shrunken to microscopic size and then placed on the lengthy toenail of a giant Negress named Loulette, where the unlucky couple must battle nail funguses, etc. In another *adventure,* a hapless mouse is vivisected by the razor-sharp toenail of a giant Caucasian woman who is dressed in a Raquel Welch One Million Years B.C.-type outfit. . .where is PETA when you need them? Given the lowly dissolutions of the modern Western *man,* it would not surprise me to learn some people masturbate to this sci-fi/fetish nonsense, probably while inhaling from a paper bag full of old toenail clippings. The decline and fall of western civilization won't be measured in any apocalyptic seizures, but in these sorts of menial follies. Reviewed by The J Man. $2.00 (what price dignity?). Yul Tolbert, P.O. Box 02222, Detroit, MI 48202-9998. yul_tolbert@yahoo.com, timeliketoons.tripod.com

Pipu and the Lake Monster, Series two, issue one: A cutesy/creepy cartoon zine in the same vein as T.R. Miller's Loohey comics. This one is about a chick called Pipu who gets bored and decides to warn people about the lake monster in Oakland. She makes signs and doesn't spell very well, but she's also an amphibian so she dives in the lake and bites the lake monster on the ass for biting the mayor on the ass. In the end she finds out the monster isn't bad at all; he just needs glasses so he won't bite the mayor anymore. The drawings are pretty good, but Pipu has a big black eye and that's why she looks creepy. Mayor Jerry Brown looks like a cardboard cutout (which is intentional.) ¶ The end of the issue features "Cooking With Tony" (a cute cartoon maggot) who teaches you to make samosas. I made the recipe, but I didn't like the crust. So if I made it again I'd just make the filling and then use bread, margarine, and a sandwich iron to do the rest. Reviewed by thrill racer. $2 to Goblinko/Pipu Orders, P.O. Box 3635, Oakland, CA, 94609-0635. www.goblinko.com

Do you like pounds of mailart? Collages and chain letters and other handmade crap that you'll feel guilty for not passing along? This foldout zine came with so much ephemera that I had to stand in line at the post office. And all of it went, eventually, in the garbage, even though Suzie implored me to do otherwise. Especially some "Friendship Book" a gal from Arizona had made and asked strangers to add pages to. "I'd hate for her to think she has no friends." Oh, well. This zine ranges from fair to just-like-every-other-collage. Three hundred words of text provide introduction, then its all nth generation copies piled high. Contract addresses are provided for mail-artists, most of them overseas. The "Wizard of Id" clipping made me smile, even though I detest the comic strip (both it and "B.C." have let me down through the years). Headlines without context, President W. cut up, what could possibly be an old photo of Larry King but maybe not. A clip-art rat. "Please alter, pass on, and send copy", it says. Fun, but hard on the conscience. Reviewed by Marc. [$1 / broadsheet / 1 p. / copied] Suzie Davis, 330 Reed St. #2F, Philadelphia, PA 19147-5944.

#30, April 2003. "for QUEER WOMEN & their many admirers". What guy doesn't like sitting around the house with a cat curled up next to him, pulling from a cold beer, and flipping through a transgender zine? This contains a long article by a femme lesbian who marries a FTM (female-to-male) transsexual, which is chatty enough. But by the fourth page, it reads like the personal webpage the author cut n' pasted it from. There's also lots of moralistic comics that were created on the most basic computer paint program, then printed with low resolution, but surprisingly still turn out pretty O.K. Kinda like "Goofus and Gallant", but queer-positive. This applies to the whole issue, really, regarding the tone. A glossary is provided so you can use the right acronyms and pronouns, too. There are side-by-side photos of women and the men they always really were deep down, which are difficult to not study over. I didn't read a whole lot of this before giving it away, but thank you kindly for the copy. Reviewed by Marc. [$? / standard / 52 pp. / copied] Sandra R. Garcia, 392 14 St., Suite 1A, Brooklyn, NY 11215.

#18: Punk zine with lots of newsprint pages and a silly sense of humor. This issue features interviews with Fleshies and the Woodrows, two bands I've never heard of. The latter band apparently has an endless discography and the guitarist, Mattowar, of the former band is quoted as saying, "Rock is not about thinking." There's also an interview with Sluggo, a dude who has a lot of experience booking bands in Chicago and Detroit (and now I will have to watch my Beavis & Butthead videos to see his cameo.) By far the funniest interview in the zine is a fictional one with Enenen where the interviewer, Joey Germ, uncovers the truth about Slick Brady, Enenen's psychotic alter ego. The issue is also chock full of music reviews including "One Word Record Reviews" and "Haiku Reviews." And there are even comics. One called "Chrome Fetus" which follows the adventures of a mysterious teddy bear in a trench coat and another called Peg where the women's breast outlines are creepily drawn (possibly saying something about the illustrator's distorted perception of women — although, the one where Peg goes to the temp agency is hilarious.) There's even more to Reglar Wiglar; zine reviews, other miscellaneous humor, and ads and it all only costs $2. Reviewed by thrill racer. 1658 N. Milwaukee #545, Chicago, IL, 60647. wiglar@mac.com, reglarwiglar.com

This beautifully typeset Match! reprint examines the relationship of landlords and tenants. The writing style mirrors the antiquated printing, with lots of big words and lots of commas. It's well written and edited in a classic essay style. As the author has something important to say, renting sucks, he need not use such long boring sentences to explain it. Hey, we all hate our landlords, sometimes or all the time. Seems like this guy wrote this whole essay, because he really, really hates his.
 
I was initially intrigued by the first paragraph lamenting the injustices of the landlord/tenant relationship. I was thoroughly bored by the third. Ybarra makes some important points. The renter enters in to an unfair contract, as the landlord has all of the power. The owner of the property makes all of the rules, and the dweller makes none. This holds true, yet he overlooks the laws that are set up to protect tenants. Though I'm sure it's a pain in the ass to actually get results from those laws, they do exist.
 
The author attempts to offer some statistical data to support his point that rents paid are arbitrary and that the landlord does nothing and gets rich. Like I said, this was wirtten in 1984. Ybarra's referrences reach from 1947-1975 and are wholly outdated. It may not have been the case then, but these days, property is expensive. The examples he puts forth are irrelevant in today's marketplace.
 
In conclusion, I agree with the author that most landlords are evil and want nothing more than to collect money for doing nothing. I just hope one day I can make money by doing nothing, then maybe I won't have to pay rent to someone who's getting fat off of my cash. Reviewed by Racheal Gaffney, AKA Euphrates Jones. Available from The Death Ship, PO Box 55336, Hayward, CA 94545.

#6. Standard issue zine by a girl in her late teens/early 20s. Alli lists a lot of what Eric Lyden would call "Fun Facts" about herself. Like how she had to go back to work at Starbucks after her personal assistant job cut back on hours, but now she's not even a supervisor like she was before. (She says she's O.K. with it because there's less responsibility as a lowly barista, but I'm skeptical.) Throughout the pissy open letter to her customers, one doesn't know with whom to sympathize after a while. Alli talks shit on patrons and co-workers alike. And, really, who could be in the right with exchanges like, "No, you can't order a large in a grande cup, that's cheating because there's room for coffee and cream"? I'll give you one guess each what word processing program and font she uses. Stop reading now and really guess. MicroSoft Word with Courier New typeface! See, you were right. But then it looks like the copy's been scanned and halftoned, turning it light gray and pixelated. Read in good lighting only. I actually ordered this one am not terribly disappointed with what I got. A travelogue supplement and a coupon ($1 off) for Alli's zine distro were included. Reviewed by Marc. [$? / digest / 24 pp. / copied] alli, PO Box 761, Mountain View, CA 94042. MeNMyCharms@aol.com P.S. I stole that "stop and guess" joke from MGH. Fessin' up!

(#3): This is not a zine, but a deck of cards. The cards are decorated with drawings of creatures that look like outer space skinheads. The set comes with instructions for a couple of games you can play with the cards. One game is called *Bamboozle:* "The youngest person playing draws the first card, looks at it, and asks the person to his left any YES or NO question about the character on the card. . ." etc., etc., etc. I gave the cards to my 21 month old son, Ezra. He looked at a couple, frowned, then shit his diaper. Reviewed by The J Man & The E Man. $1.00 (not worth it, unless your bowels are paralyzed). P.O. Box 542, N. Olmsted, OH 44070.

#1, spring 2003: This is a "cultural zine of the revolutionary anti- imperialist league." It includes reviews and interviews (mostly music) of/with music/bands that reflect their politics. While I tend to side with the viewpoints of the writers (I'm for overthrowing the ruling class) I disagreed with some bits in their review of Mr. Lif's I Phantom. While I've never heard Mr. Lif's music, the writer critiqued his lyrics saying that he can't call himself a "slave" for earning $6.50/hr. if he's not beaten or fired for scribbling lyrics on the job. But I say a wage slave is a slave because the wealth is going towards the bosses' profits while the wage isn't even a "living." The worker is just having the life drained out of him. The writer then complains that this singer isn't focusing on "global political economics" which makes him not too "revolutionary," but I think it's important to take note of what's going on around you first. After all, an injustice to one is an injustice to all. A writer also reviews a Dead Prez mix tape release and while there is praise for the hip hop artist's revolutionary message the writer also notes the misogynistic language. Personally, I'd dump the whole album if it had demeaning language towards women. Anyway, I should send them a thrill racer demo. The most revolutionary message in my lyrics is that I'm "waiting for the revolution to start" (ho-hum, I'll keep waiting.) Reviewed by thrill racer. $1 to A Single Spark..., P.O. Box 5155, Albany, NY, 12205. Singlespark@fastmail.fm, singlespark.freeservers.com

(#33): This issue is 3 years old. . .but so what? I imagine they are all pretty much the same: tons of reviews of bands you've never heard of and who put out tons of cds of shitty musik. . .gee, page after page after page of generally favorable reviews for the crappy demo discs put out by part-time *musicians* and full time pizza delivery boys. . .this zine would be better titled *Dream Chasers Enablers.* You might ask how I know all these bands suck that get warm'n'fuzzy reviews in Tail Spins? I work in the corporate office of a large music retail chain, and I have access to thousands of promo cds. . .I've come across many of the discs reviewed in this zine at the big promo dump bin at work. . .everyday for laughs I put a few into the cd drive on my computer and listen to a track or two. . .truly god-awful stuff. . .nary an original lyric or guitar chord. . .so why does Tail Spins wet themselves over all these horseshit bands? Simple. They want to sell ad space. . .and boy, they sure do sell a lot. . .I mean, to book this many ¼ page, ½ page ads, not to mention all the smaller ones as well, you have to strip yourself of whatever critical integrity you may have had before you sit down and crank out these hundreds of puff-piece reviews. Utterly shameless. Well, there are a few interviews sprinkled in (including a decent one with Iggy Pop in #33). . .and there's a semi-amusing account of a greyhound bus trip written by one of the hack reviewers (Niki Adamas). Reviewed by The J Man. $4.00 (outrageous. . .with all the friggin' ads in this thing, it ought to be free. . .Hell, they could afford to give everybody who reads it a profit sharing check). P.O. Box 1860, Evanston, IL 60204.

A personal/comic zine that kicks off with the author/illustrator, Shawn Granton, listing his "Spring Tour 2002" where he hit the road to check out zine and comics festivals. However, the rest of the issue isn't really about that, but the comics and stories are entertaining and interesting none-the-less. Many of the drawings are robots personified or vice versa. The drawing of the cheerleader for the "Skool Spirit" article is creepy; she has no joints and her arms and legs look like rubber and she's spraying saliva from a retarded looking face. I agree with the point of the article, though, that school spirit is "much like nationalism." My fave comic in the issue, however, is "A Dream," where the narrator frees himself from the burden of his car and then regrets it. I've had a similar car ditching dream! I was driving out of the way and decided to park my car half in and half out of someone's garage and then walk to my destination until I realized that it would've been so much easier just to drive my car! Then I went back at night and the house had a radio playing outside and I felt scared. Welp, that's all I remember, but having dreams where you decide to lose your car is weird! Anyway, this zine is $1 in the USA, $1.50 in Canada, and $2.00 in Australia and New Zealand. Reviewed by thrill racer. TFR Industries, PBX 14185, PDX, OR, 97293. Or e-mail shawntfr@hotmail.com

The cover of this zine says, "Warning! This comic is NOT cute." Good warning because, while much of this zine is good for a laugh (with funny drawings), a lot of it will have you saying outloud, "Ewwww!!!" and "Ohhhhhh!" This comic/personal zine documents Kelly's history with pets which includes many sad, terrible, and nasty anecdotes. The freakiest one is when Kelly lived in an apartment with an animal lover, Kathy. Once when Kelly went on a trip with Greenpeace Kathy decided to take out revenge (for leaving her birdcage in the reach of a murderous cat) by locking the two cats in her room for a week without litterboxes! There was pee and poop all over her bed and everywhere. Ewwwww!!!!! So anyway, check it out for only $2. Reviewed by thrill racer. Contact #101 - 1001 W. Broadway, Box 450, Vancouver, BC, V6H 4E4, Canada. kelly@221colab.org

#14: This is a personal zine by a self proclaimed "boy dyke" (and spoken word hip-hop artist) who decides to become a farmer in Maui on a search for enlightenment. She wounds her hand, hitch hikes a lot (I've never hitch hiked in my life) and in the end decides she prefers the dirty city. At first I thought there were a lot of typos, but then I read this comment: "My sexuality isn't in the dictionary though, neither is most of my lifestyle. Maybe that's why I write all funky, purposely misspelling werds and spontaneously making up new vocabulary." Anyway, the issue is pretty honest and interesting (although, there are no pictures) so check into it! Reviewed by thrill racer. $2, 1122 E. Pike #910, Seattle, WA, 98122, alienpeapod@yahoo.com

I ordered this online for eight bucks, early February, and it wasn't sent to me until mid April, two months after the debit transation cleared my bank and Paypal. Terrible. On the other hand, I am going to e-mail hundreds upon hundreds of zine pubishers about my website now, thanks to Zine Guide. So I will reserve my (unfavorable) opinion for later. Reviewed by Marc. [$7.95 / standard / 152 pp. / newsprint]Same address as Tail Spins. Order through the website and expect your magazine when the leaves change: www.zineguide.net

(#2): Tips for the 3 or 4 people in the world who might want to start a zine library. The rest of us know leftover zines are best suited for use as scratch pads. Reviewed by The J Man. $1.00 (no). P.O. Box 12409, Portland, OR 97212.