I wanna publish zines and rage against machines
This particular line from “Flagpole Sitta” has been running through my head on a short, frenetic loop for almost a week now. I think it first got there when I saw a pop-up notification on my phone saying that the Google Assistant would be replaced by Gemini, the AI that Google keeps trying to shove down our throats like they’re U2 and this is 2014.
This was an update I absolutely hated to see because I have been bending over backwards trying to get rid of Gemini everywhere else. (I literally use my ad blocker to hide its presence at the top of my email inbox.)
I thought, “Maybe it’s time to call it a day and switch to a dumbphone.”
I thought, “If people really wanted any of this, tech companies wouldn’t need to throw it at us, shout ‘no take-backs!’ and run away before we have time to react.”
I thought rage, and I guess I thought machines, and here we were. With one line from the bridge of one 90s song hamster-wheeling in the middle of my brain.
So that’s how the song got there, but the reason it’s still stuck there is that the first half, about publishing zines, also applies to me in this instant.
For a while I’ve been trying to get a very small, very informal publication off the ground here in Denver. It’s inspired by a broadside I picked up in Edinburgh back when I lived there: The publication, called the One O’Clock Gun, was a single sheet of paper folded cleverly to contain upwards of a dozen stories, poems, and illustrations all written by locals. The paper distributed to a few pubs throughout the city and I thought, “This is the best thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”
I loved the idea of picking up something, printed and physical, at the bar. Of browsing through it while I sipped on a whisky and waited for friends (or simply enjoyed a drink by myself). I also loved that this thing was free, and I could tuck it into my bag to take home. I loved that this was such a simple, straightforward way to let local writers and artists express themselves, and that it was contained and special to the community they belonged to.
So I want to create something similar in Denver. If and when it takes off, it will be called the Page of Cups, and it will distribute to any breweries that want to participate. (The bars in Denver, and indeed most places in the US, are simply not suited for this sort of simple delight. Bars are for shouting at your friends over too-loud music and hovering around in the vain hope a seat opens up for you. A brewery, on the other hand, is a place where you can good and truly chill out.)
Anyway, this is the part where I say:
If you’re a writer in the Denver area, please consider submitting! Here is more information about the Page of Cups, including the type of writing we’re looking for. And if you know some writers who might like to submit, please share this information with them. Please. I need to prove that this is an idea that can appeal to more people than just me.
The more I grow to hate the technological landscape around me, the more appealing this concept becomes.
My central pitch for the Page of Cups is that it’s something to look at other than your phone. I don’t think it’s a stretch to conjecture that many people yearn for exactly this. For something to interact with, to entertain them, that is not the product of an insatiable algorithm hell-bent on devouring every second of their attention. It’s a physical thing to hold, to share — even to keep, if you like. And if you do keep it, no manner of software update or T&C change can take it away from you.
And it’s a small, tangible way to feel a little more connected to the people around you.
This is all to say, long live print media, make more zines, and submit to the Page of Cups if you have something funny you’d like to share with your community.
Some Things to Read/Watch:
“The members of the Republican majority are behaving not like traditional conservatives but like revolutionaries who, having seized power, believe they must smash up the old order as quickly as possible before the country recognizes what is happening.” – The Atlantic (gift link)
This video essay by Taylor Lorenz, about a popular TikTok meme I had never heard of but instantly understood, has so perfectly captured my and my generation’s anger about the hopelessness of this moment and the failures of our Democratic leaders that oops, I’m even more mad about it all than I was before.
“When future generations read about Gaza with horror and wonder how the western world, with all its moral superiority, its rule-based order and its focus on international human rights law, allowed a livestreamed genocide to happen, what will you say?” (The Guardian)
More Flowers
