THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Friday, August 4, 1995 TAG: 9508040050
SECTION: DAILY BREAK PAGE: E1 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: BY JENNIFER JOHNSON, SPECIAL TO THE DAILY BREAK
LENGTH: Long : 162 lines
THEY ARE SICK of money hungry corporate America.
They don't want to fit into anybody's demographics.
And if you were to flash a copy of such mainstream magazines as Spin or Sassy at them, they would cut their eyes in disgust.
After growing up in a plastic society that praises the likes of Barbie and Spam, an increasing number of kids have decided to go underground.
And they have a lot to say.
Through self-published or underground magazines, these kids have found an outlet for free speech in its purest form. An outlet that is unregulated, unlicensed and uncensored.
``I just needed somewhere I could voice my own opinions,'' said Christine Burrage, 19, author of Ahriamne, formerly Melba Toast, and a graduate of Bethel High School in Hampton. ``It's really important to me because it lets me express how I feel. It's a release of really strong emotions.''
Underground magazines, or ``zines'' as they are more commonly called, have become the voice of a growing number of young people who can't find what they want in the mainstream.
``We are tired of these stupid teen magazines telling us that we aren't good enough and that we need to do all this stuff just to get some boys. And so we made our own magazines,'' said Sara Mccool, 17, who publishes the Pittsburgh-based zine Sourpuss.
``There isn't anything in corporate American literature that I find worthy of reading or spending time on,'' said Doug Michel, 18, creator and author of Fatboy Fanclub, a personal zine from Nags Head. ``If you take something pure like literature and let corporate America get its hands on it, then it turns into what people want to hear, not what people want to say.'' The corporate underground
The authors of zines have made sure that their publications are nothing like their mainstream counterparts. They talk about what they want to, and they do it on their own terms.
Many of these publications are produced with desktop computers, but that's about as sophisticated as it gets. In the underground publication world, glue and scissors win out over Pagemaker.
And distribution of these homemade magazines follows the same laid-back approach as their productions. Most are delivered by the mailman and only cost the price of the stamps and paper. Advertising is nil. The authors' philosophy seems to be if you were meant to read it, the zines will find you.
``I just feel like I want to write about it and if people want to read it, then that's their business,'' said Michel.
Though the postal system is used most frequently for distribution, younger zine producers have always found high school hallways to be a quick way to reach the reader. But such distribution is getting more tricky to pull off.
``I had to quit distributing at school because it caused too much of a disruption,'' said Burrage. ``One English teacher who read my zine even referred to it as `uneducated smut.' Now I think ``Hamlet'' has it's place and so do the classics, but if we don't have anyone to think and publish new thoughts, who is going to further the human race?'' No love quizzes here
Burrage discusses a wide range of topics in her zine, including militant feminism, anti-establishment ideas and oppression of all minorities.
``I want my zine to change the way people look at things. If you make a difference in the community around you, then you will affect the whole,'' she added.
The same cry for change reflects the voice of many political and social zines throughout the country.
One case in point is he(AT)dwOrk from the Outer Banks. This wordy yet direct publication focuses on animal rights, veganism and the ``rich old men that run the government.''
``I put it out because everyone seemed really apathetic in the world and uncaring about things,'' said Jeff Kidder, 18, a recent graduate of Manteo High School. ``So I decided to express the issues I felt were important and that no one else seemed to know about.''
Issue 2 of he(AT)dwOrk devotes eight pages to explicit descriptions of how cows, chickens and pigs are raised. The pages are neatly filled with typed copy and statistics and then interspersed with photographs of animals in cages. But unlike most zines that tend to plagiarize freely, Kidder does his homework. In an ending bibliography, he sights four references.
But he(AT)dwOrk doesn't stop there. The same issue includes articles on the evil nature of sports, Haiti and U.S. imperialism, the red tape of protesting and an article on ``a few of the many reasons why Amerika sucks.'' But amid the rantings of self expression and opinion, the purpose of he(AT)dwOrk surfaces - just put information out there and make people think.
``I never really expected anyone to change,'' said Kidder, ``but it made me at least think that I was trying to make a difference. If someone read it, they knew the problems were there. They can pretend it's not out there, but at least deep down they have to know. Changing the world some
Though Kidder doesn't have any illusions about making a difference in the lives of his readers, a lot of zines have adopted a definite social awareness. Zines like Sourpuss stem from the personal lives of their authors, but that doesn't mean they are afraid to meet critical issues face-to-face.
``My zine is about my life,'' said Sara Mccool. ``It's personal stuff about how I feel, but lately I've been getting more purposeful. Like last issue I had an interview with the vice president of the Gay and Peace Council in Pittsburgh.''
But more important than just talking about society's problems, this zine about ``feeling dorky and how that is'' faces issues in the life of the author.
``I address important issues that go on in my life and how I change them,'' said Mccool. ``I always ask, `How do I fix this?' Like if I get treated a certain way.''
The Sourpuss author recalled a time when she was standing on the corner waiting for a bus and a group of girls started to harass her.
``They called me a dike and other names, and then I just wrote everything down in my zine,'' she said. ``One reason I think people like my zine and read it is because everyone relates to the feelings I'm talking about. Everyone feels dumb. I think that's why zines are so popular and people like to read them, because they can identify with it and they don't feel so alone.'' Shock value
The vast majority of zines, however, turn away from political and social topics and focus on the irreverent and perverse aspects of life. As a whole, zine writers tend to prefer shock value to literary acclaim.
Some have a weirdly tight focus, like Dishwasher from Arcata, Calif., which takes an indepth and oftentimes fanatical look at a career in dishwashing. Other zines, like Fatboy Fanclub, intentionally ramble and don't have any real point but to entertain.
``It's toilet literature, that's all it is,'' said Michel of his zine. ``I'm the luckiest boy in the world. Hands down there is no one luckier than me. And a lot of weird things happen to me, so I write it down.
``You're not going to get anything important out of what I have to say,'' Michel added. ``It's just pure entertainment.''
Almost anything can show up in a zine, simply because there are no rules. And with a flair for the cheesy and perverse, Fatboy Fanclub is the perfect example. From poetry and reviews to pictures of the young, Afro-puffed Michael Jackson, nothing is held reverent. Zines are fair ground for anything and everything.
But no matter how offended some conservative moms and dads get or how many people may disagree with the taste or political views, these kids are adamant about their right to express themselves.
``I think that's forgotten a lot in mainstream culture,'' said Mccool. ``Everyone has a right to wear what they want, say what they want and do what they want, as along as it doesn't hurt anybody else.''
The freedom associated with pasting together a zine has meant an explosion of their production in the last three years. Factsheet Five, a bimonthly review of zines across the nation, estimates 20,000 to 50,000 zines presently being circulated. With the huge number of underground publications out there and dozens of new titles rising and folding each month, zines have become a staple for the young underground culture. With a production cost of $40 for the copy machine and a ream of paper, lots of people can produce their own zine. And that seems to be the beauty of it. Through creating a zine, anyone with anything to say can find a completely uncensored voice.
``That's what zines are all about,'' said Mccool. ``Freedom, coolness and having a voice.'' MEMO: Jennifer Johnson is a 1995 graduate of Manteo High School in Manteo,
N.C. She will study journalism at UNC-Chapel Hill.
ILLUSTRATION: Photos of selection from publications
Photo of cover
dishwasher takes an indepth and fanatical look at dishwashing.
by CNB