‘For the world is as glorious as ever’

I’m one of the friends who drunkenly set up this blog, posted once, and then got so bogged down in work I didn’t even pick up a zine for months. By way of explanation: I wrote an Honours thesis that almost killed me; I opened a tea house in Newcastle with my friend; I moved out for the first time; I needed some time to chill the fuck out. Over Christmas I packed up several boxes of zines and put them in my car to sort through at my new place. One thing I’ve discovered is that I’m a bit like a fox, burying what I’ve scavenged and intending to dig it up later. I’ve been doing this for years and now I estimate that I have about three hundred zines and I’ve read less than half of them. So here’s a review of five zines I read yesterday, purchased from Bird in the Hand after one of Susy’s big orders from Microcosm. They are American zines, and deal with issues such as sickness, cycling, adventures, hiking, and evil Catholic nuns.

‘You don’t get there from here’ #9 by Carrie McNinch

This is a journal-style comic set in the summer of 2008. It charts Carrie’s daily activities as the long days slowly start to get shorter. Carrie takes her dog running in the hills above L.A. on a daily basis, encounters rattlesnakes, tarantulas, hiking groups, and one time, two dykes making out on top of a rock with a pentagram. Carrie’s life is complicated by alcoholic tendencies and mental health problems, but her attitude suggests that she understands enforced positivity: she writes ‘There are times I wish I had been born with better mental health’ above a picture of her disembodied head floating over the city. In the next panel, her head floats over the sunset and she writes ‘But I wasn’t so oh well!’ Her enthusiasm for local fauna is infectious: after seeing countless tarantulas on the fire trails in the hills, she says ‘You guys just keep getting cuter to me every time I see you!’ In the final pages Carrie gives an illustrated guide to rattlesnakes and assures us that they want nothing to do with humans and there’s no reason to fear them. But apparently baby rattlesnakes are more deadly than adults because they can’t control their venom!

‘About My Disappearance’ #3 by Dave Roche

When we started this blog, Amanda gave an alternate review of ‘About My Disappearance’ after reading a heartless review in a certain newsletter. Issue #3 begins with the subheading: ‘For the world is as glorious as ever, and exalting’ and Dave assures us that ‘after this zine it’s all done. I’m just going to get better and better.’ He’s referring to Crohn’s – the chronic inflammatory disease that affects your intestines. Dave articulates his experiences with such poignant honesty that every issue has brought me to tears. This was no exception, although it was the most optimistic thus far. Dave writes in the introduction that ‘The feeling of a slow dimming of my life has stopped and I can enjoy being alive again’ but before the zine is done he recounts experiences of a painful colonoscopy, the modern doctor’s poor bedside manner, a change of medication and the diagnosis of another medical condition. In Dave’s case, it’s more like he’s experienced enforced hardship rather than enforced positivity, but his zine is far from whingey. It’s a beautiful and very human depiction of suffering and surviving. Dave’s reflections on nurturing oneself as opposed to trying to be strong have made me wonder about the definition of strength: rather than being limited to the heroic masculine figure doing battle, I think that the ability to nurture yourself and others is a form of strength.

‘Nuns I’ve Known’ by Prunella Vulgaris

This is a lovely little zine, with a simple yellow cover depicting orchids, and on the reverse, pansies. Contained within are several vignettes titled ‘Sister Jospehine,’ ‘Sister Germaine,’ and ‘Sister Clement,’ amongst others. Most of the zine is a hate-fuelled rant against women who made a young girl’s life miserable. One way to harden the fuck up is by attending a Catholic school – these nuns seem brutal. There are a few light moments, such as when a nun mistakenly announced Gregory Hungerford’s name over the PA as ‘Gregorford Hungary.’ I like that Prunella and her sister still call each other this occasionally and dissolve into laughter. There’s also a very touching moment when Prunella describes Sister Carla – seemingly the only nice nun in the school – as being like ‘a little wild creature’: ‘you wanted it to approve of you in a funny kind of way, so it would let you stay close by.’

‘Urban Adventure League Zine Pack’ by Shawn Granton

I have to admit: I didn’t read the whole thing. This is a collection of guides to various bicycle rides and walks in Portland, complete with maps, photos and historical information on various places of interest. I love the concept of this zine and the introduction, which states that the Urban Adventure League ‘aims to reconnect you to your “childlike sense of wonder”’. This is right up my alley. Unfortunately, I’ve never been to Portland and this zine started to arouse insatiable wanderlust. I had to put it down, but I highly recommend it for travellers and residents of Portland. And it’s definitely given me some ideas for my own adventure club.

‘Next Stop Adventure’ by Matt Gauck

Susy ordered a bunch of adventure-related zines from Microcosm, thinking that I’d be hotfooting it to the zine shop as soon as the delivery came in. She was right, and this is my favourite adventure zine thus far. I knew I had something in common with Matt from the opening lines of his zine: ‘every new idea becomes “the best idea I/we ever had”’. In the first edition of ‘Next Stop Adventure’ Matt goes on a 300-kilometre bicycle tour, riding a ten-year-old mountain bike built for a teenager, equipped with a sleeping bag, a camera, no tent, no socks, and a bunch of bananas. He and his friend decide to race to the midpoint between Savannah, Georgia, where he lives, and Raleigh, North Carolina, where his friend lives, which happens to be Coward, South Carolina. On Matt’s adventure he dumpster dives at gas stations, sleeps on the roof of KFC, breaks open a coconut, suffers through bug bites, hilly terrain and rain, arrives in Coward and finally gets a text message from his friend saying that he had too many flat tyres and was going home. In this situation, most people would despair. They might send a terse text to the tune of ‘you quitter’ or they might have a little cry out of pure frustration. Not Matt. His incredible enthusiasm for adventure blinds him to his harsh fate, and instead he enjoys the moment and has a nap. The next day, a friend driving through picks him up, and the adventure ends. But as Matt says, ‘When adventure bites, you’re infected for life’ – I emailed him to say how much I liked this zine, and he’s going to send me the next few issues. I’m definitely looking forward to reading more about his adventures in the glorious world.

Enforced Positivity: A Brief Overview

The original idea for setting up this blog thing came from a drunken conversation with a couple of friends of mine regarding the merits of positive reviews of cultural products. That was based on having read a bunch of negative reviews of zines which seemed to be dedicated more to making the reviewer feel like a high brow cultural gatekeeper than saying anything interesting about zine publishing. There were a couple of issues we discussed:

(1) In a medium with no gatekeeper system, miniscule print runs, no profit motive and a focus on subjective and personal voices, bitchy reviews seem both irrelevant and needlessly mean.
(2) Why is whinging about shit seen as a legitimate form of activity? Isn’t a penchant for whinging sort of negative?

So our idea was to set up a blog that dealt only in positive reviews -
enforced positivity. Like a lot of drunken ideas it didn’t really come to fruition because none of us really had the time to sit down and regularly write reviews. A serious blog, and good reviews, takes effort and time. People seem to forget this with the mediums that characterise ‘Web 2.0′. Whilst the medium itself is insanely easy to use, creating content for a blog is just as time consuming as writing a book or an article. And none of us had that time. I still don’t. Hence this is a sporadically updated blog, used more for the purposes of rambling and posting photos of things I’ve seen whilst cycling, rather than something I spend a lot of time editing and paying attention to.

That said, whilst I don’t have the time to formally write a quality blog, I find the notion of ‘enforced positivity’ very appealing and, in as much as I can sporadically post pictures of things I think are neat, a blog dedicated to that notion has a lot of appeal.

Of course, the issue that strikes me the most is exactly what ‘Enforced Positivity’ actually looks like and how it’s applied. On the one hand, I don’t think of it is being purely about being cheerful, or having an ‘Glass Half Full’ or ‘Always look on the bright side of life’ approach to things. I also don’t think it as some sort of libertarian ‘You’re white and middle class, so you’ve got no reason go complain” mentality. Rather, I view it as an affirmation that whinging about things is a sign of weakness. It is a sign that you don’t know how to have a good time. It is a sign that you are a bit of a cry baby and you need to toughen up. Thus, enforced positivity is the direct opposite of whinging-for-whingings sake.

Dogs

I was riding my bike into town the other day when I was privy to the below scene. It’s hard to see in this photo, because apple decided my ‘i-phone’ needed a compass rather than a camera zoom. But there’s a dog sitting on top of the car. When I came home 2 hours later it was still there, napping. If I could get a better photo I’d blow it up as a poster and add a caption such as “just chillin’” and make a mint.

Sociology, current affairs and the local fauna

I was lazing in bed before going to sleep. I’d just read about 20 pages of Ned Polsky’s ‘Hustlers, Beats and Others’, which is a mid-sixties sociological study of what we’d now call sub or counterculture but minus the political rhetoric. And then I was browsing through the New York Times on my ‘i-phone’, which is the best free news source I’ve encountered as an ‘application’ so far. And then I rolled over and noticed a large gecko walking along the bedside table. Once it noticed me it took shelter beneath the stereo. Fortunately I saw that ‘man vs nature’ show, so I figured out how to capture it and relocate it to the aspidistra plant in my back yard.

Carrots

I tried to grow some carrots. It was not entirely a success.

More scenery

I was up waterfall gully again today. The place is lousy with lilys. Scenic like a beast. Here’s a picture.

Male Bonding in the Hills

I was hauling my fat little butt up towards Marble Hill today, and it was a pretty nice day so there were quite a few cyclists out. I’m usually in a pretty good mood whilst cycling, so I tend to wave at those who pass me. Sometimes they wave back. Sometimes they just glower. I don’t know if its some etiquette I don’t understand. But I figure, we’re both up there, pedalling away, wearing our ridiculous lycra. We can both see each other. It’s hard to pretend we haven’t noticed each other. Seriously. When two cyclists pass on an empty road up in the hills, it’s like if two clowns passed each other on a deserted street. Or if two women in wedding dresses both saw each other at Coles. You obviously notice each other. You know you’ve both got something in common. Say hello. It’s not that hard.

So anyway, I was going up towards marble hill, and this other cyclist was descending and as he passed he yelled my name and it turned out to be a friend of mine I haven’t seen in ages. So then we were standing on the side of the road, re-splendid in our lycra, like two brightly coloured stickmen. We talked about components and frames for a bit, then magpies and the frequency of their attacks, and then basically the conversation went into the usual remarks about how working sucks shit and cycling is amazing. It was a nice moment of male bonding. I think particularly the discussion of magpie attacks is what triggered it. I felt better about the frequency with which I’ve encountered the Bogans of the Sky after that. If they can inspire male bonding on lonely back roads, then maybe there’s a silver lining to their dark, swooping shadow.

Tutes.

Right now I’m meant to be teaching a class. But I’ve got them doing the course evaluation whilst I mill around outside in the sun. And, thanks to modern technology, I can update this blog while I’m at it! Isn’t the modern world amazing!?!

The Accumulation of Annoying Cycling Stories

Corkscrew Road

Above is a picture of Corkscrew Road, my current favourite climb in the Adelaide Hills. You get onto it by going up Gorge Road for about 18km and then turning left. Apparently it’s 9%, which is actually slightly steeper than Alpe d’Huez, except it’s only a quarter of the length.

There are a number of things I particularly enjoy about Corkscrew Road. Firstly, one feels like a big man after one successfully drags one’s self up it. Secondly, it affords one of the least trafficked routes within easy reach of the Adelaide metro area. Thirdly, there’s a lot of sheep and the occasional kangaroo. Plus there’s a lemon orchard. So its very endearing. And, fourth, its insanely picturesque (pictured). And, finally, it provides valuable fodder in accumulating annoying and highly detailed diatribes about cycling which can be imparted to ones friends, family and well wishers.

For the further accumulation of annoying details on cycling, such as hill gradients I suggest: http://www.cycle2max.com.au/

Every day is a good day on the bike

I spent the whole day working which sucked. It was a whole pile of crap. Then the weather was monsterous. But I thought, ‘To Hell with this!’, pulled on my trusty pair of 3/4 Santini bibs and went out riding. Then I almost crashed on Greenhill Road, hitting a pothole at 35km/h and getting a front wheel wobble. After that I saw a whole pile of ducklings, which was endearing. Then I enjoyed the glorious scenery at the top of Waterfall Gully, which put me in fantastic spirits. Except then I saw this magpie and it was looking at me funny. And I thought ‘I know that look’. And sure enough the monster swooped me. The only way to stop a swooping magpie is to give it a bit of a glaring. So I was glaring and it was sort of hovering above me waiting for me to look away so it could attack. And then I guess it got nervous or something because it took a huge crap. I could see a huge globule of bird poo hovering through the air. I saw the wind catch it and alter it’s trajectory and suddenly it was curving downward toward me. I tried to alter course to get away from it but I had to keep glaring at the magpie so I couldn’t swerve that much and I was stuck there watching this shit plummet down toward me and hit me on the arm. After that the magpie kept swooping for another 100 metres or so. Then it rained.

That said, it was still nice to go out for a bike ride.

Below are pictures of Waterfall Gully & the magpie turd on my arm. Enjoy.