We Make Zines

a place for zinesters - writers and readers

Okay, so I thought that I'd really concentrate on providing some insight into my own way of thinking on the matter of zine production here. Mainly for the fact, that this little area is too far tucked away into the recesses of the interweb for anyone to take notice. How many posts, blogs, and comments will it take for the whole world to be one giant embarrassment? It's not about the back and forth exchange of ideas from one person to the next. This will primarily be a place for me to spill thoughts in way that is less prolific. Hey, I gotta reputation to uphold!

Spring 1998
Yes it's true. I was actually bred in Peoria IL. And if anyone knows anything that is to know about this rotting cesspool of forgotten myths, then you'll know that it is almost completely devoid of any sort of culture. Well, okay to be fair, it IS there. But it takes those with 100% true spirit to seek it out. Being the young ragamuffin that I was, I partook in a seemingly endless array of underground rock n' roll shows. And why wouldn't I? I was programmed to do so. Honestly, isn't this the spark that spreads the fire? It was through this subculture that I got my first taste of what zines were and what they were for. The hole in the wall record store that hosted a large plethora of in-store shows had a rack near the counter with all kinds of magazines and punk propaganda. Many of them free! I loaded up anything and everything that I could get my hands on. Most of them political, which is something that I didn't quite understand at the time. Hell, I still don't understand it. I remember sitting in Algebra II class with an issue of 'Just Add Water' and glancing over the ragged black and white images of anti militant messages. Although the overall theme wasn't resonating with me, I still found the idea of what was in front of me appealing. How could anyone in their right mind take the time to write, design, craft, and print these things off just so some 16 year old kid growing up in nowhere Illinois could grab a glimpse. It was absurd. And honestly, the absurdness was the thing that I liked the most. So I thought to myself; I could do this. And why not? I've always been involved with some sort of art in one way or another. This would be just another facade to delve into.

To start on my journey, I needed a foundation to base a zine idea on. The only thing I had going at the time that would make any sense to anyone else was the band that I was doing with my friend Marc. It was more of a joke than an actually focused music entity. We recorded and released little tapes for our friends, but spent a great deal of time crafting our own newsletter. No one else was doing it at the time, so fuck it! The interesting thing about it was that it had absolutely nothing to do with what we were doing musically or stylistically. Think of it as a two page collage of in-jokes and ridiculousness. It lasted for three issues and it made our friends laugh. Mission accomplished, I suppose. Below is an example of the second issue. This is the master copy that I was able to rescue out of my storage box in my parent's attic.

If you're able to make any sense of this whatsoever, then you've got some real patience and soul. Stay tuned for the next installment of the plastique pop blog where I'll get into discussing the "Shotgun Blast Zeen" and my utter hatred for it. I'll also be touching upon the zine I did after the fuzznutt newsletter, "Sometimes Special People Ride on Frogs".

Same plastique pop time, same plastique pop channel.

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