93 lines
5.5 KiB
Plaintext
93 lines
5.5 KiB
Plaintext
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Gentle Ben:WR #12
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Five days without a shower makes you feel a little grungy, and maybe a
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little more irritable than necessary. When you can smell yourself, then
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you've gone about a week too long without a shower. Anyway, we got a ride
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with some boring-as-hell Marine guy named Ian Smith (go figure.) One of
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the many things Chris and I did when travelling out here to the East Bay
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was to take a journal of the thins we experienced. Here are a few small
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excerpts from this journal...
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"Counting the lines on the road out of boredom..Winning the Florida
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1000, go speed racer."
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"Cauhahee River, Black Creek, Ogeecheee river, Kingshead swamp,
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Cathead river, Little Turtle river, Aah creek, Jeranimo creek, Woman
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hollering creek, Salitrillo creek, Blanco river, Buck creek road, Stink
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creek road. (These are all signs we saw off of Route-10 in the south.)"
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Somewhere in Southern Florida: We've been surviving off of 2 pounds of
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bologna and 2 loaves of bread for 2 days now. Good deal, $2.59 at some
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remote convenience store in the sticks.
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12-29-92 (7pm)
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Chris and I finally got out of Arlington, TX. I'm losing my
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memory...Life is trippy..We're watching the semi's take over Route-30...I
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can't see anything; pitch black, the sky is beautiful. I'm in a state of
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total confusion, yet peace. Time seems a bit drawn out...What is time
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after all, doesn't mean much when you're young and without plans...
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New Orleans - Ritzy hotels and tennis courts on the ninth floor.
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Steaming swimming pool on the sixth floor, rich girl named Erin (from Texas
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no less), showed us a little glamour and flashed cold hard cash before our
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poor eyes.
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Wallisville, TX - Pulled off the road (I almost crashed a few times
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from dozing off), tried to find a campground (there was a sign, but it was
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20 years old)..Ended up surrounded by a swamp...Mosquito nesting ground.
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Slept for a few hours until they came for our blood. We threw our bags in
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the car and tried to take off; got stuck in the mud..Mosquitoes were
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getting fiercer...Things were bad...Lit a smokebomb..Now we're in a gooey
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swamp off of I-10. Now what? We took some pictures and laughed it off...A
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big hick in a hick truck with a Bud-Light T-shirt saved us...Right out of
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Dukes of Hazzard, I swear. He made us breakfast, SAM WALLIS. Turns out
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his great grandfather founded the place. He played Hank Williams tunes on
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his ES330. Real nice...Gave us a bottle of Cuervo..He said when you give
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away alcohol the giver takes the first swig. And just when you thought
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you've seen it all. "TEXAS: It's like a whole other country."
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Palo Pinto, TX - Gas station attendant: "You all be careful out
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there." Totally foreboding. More concern about not wanting to see us
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killed then a bit of friendly advice.
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Big Spring, TX - "By the skin of our teeth" is the trend of late. We
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got the car out of impound barely in time to get out of good 'ol Arlington
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before we'd get arrested AGAIN for vagrancy. We ran out of cash but made
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it to the only ATM for 200 square miles. We filled up the tank with
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warning light screaming past Big Spring, the last big town we'll see until
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El Paso. However, things could be worse. Some truckers do wave, some even
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HONK.
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Pull Quotes: "Coolest road in the whole country without question: NOODLE
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DOME ROAD - Mile marker #264 - Route 20 in Trent, Texas."
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Whatever
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Ramblings
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Issue #12
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(November 93 to February 1994)
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Or something like that...
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Chances are that you've never ever ever EVER read this like tiny thing.
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The truth is that I've been writing this for nearly 4 years and I'm only on
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issue #12 (don't figure it out). I'm a slacker piece of shit, and I'm the
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first to admit it. I have chose the path of slack, the domain of the
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overwhelmingly unknown magazine. Nevertheless, I still crank out an issue
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a year (maybe two if I'm working) and am still very into continuing it.
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You know, 'Zines are so big these days, which I suppose is cool. But then
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again, a 'zine is half a MAGAzine which kind of insinuates a certain
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insulting air. There was this whole idea of a certain group of people
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could reach a certain audience which was certainly small and specific.
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Today, or actually, last week, I found a big article on 'Zines in the L.A.
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Times Calendar section, which also means a billion reprints from other
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newspapers. A one-minute piece on 'Zines was also aired on CNN several
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million times. Even the tv tabloid shows had a field day with 'Zine
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editors. This is all FAT exposure which some Zinemakers are probably
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loving, but then there are some that would rather be hunted out and ordered
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via mail only for the price of postage. All the slickness of magazines,
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with their 4-color glossy pages and their general similarity to all the
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others is plain boring as fuck. Not only BORING but probably FULL OF SHIT
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too. See, Zinemakers don't have to worry about anything. They don't earn
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anything and they don't owe anything. They say what they want, they talk
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shit, missspelll things, waste paper, scribble in the margins, leave the
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crop marks, smudge, spill coffee on the whole thing and STILL PRINT IT. To
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me it's all about being just another random guy in a world full of
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randomness, striving to be a little less random than everyone else (random,
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huh?) I'm just a random piece of shit that wants to do a 'zine (that makes
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me one in an estimated 25 thousand). I'll allow my egocentricities and
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eccentricities to flow as you can read on or throw this away. Wait, don't
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throw this away. Hm..I don't WANT
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