Mostly dull, but sometimes mind blowing. I suspect they know this, as they provide a four point summary at the lead of every article to let you know if you want to read it. Downfall: Weird, overwrought graphics with a lot of browns and a sub-Dave Barry humor column.
Mongo super Dork-wad music magazine, thus is awesome. Financially dangerous review section, which recently hypnotized me and forced me to buy a DION CD. Too frequent Beatles worship, however, and too longish articles about hippies. And check this out: free GOOD cd with every issue.
An brave attempt at a breezy lifestyle science magazine. Intermitantly interesting and, well, breezy. Plenty of dishy articles about presentable, cute young scientists and cranky superstar contrarian old fart scientists who are willing to say mean things about dumb people. Oddly shitty binding.
The official magazine of non-creepy libertarians. They welcome writers come from all over the political spectrum, as long as they’re down with calling the government evil and/or incompetent. Which it sort of is. Peter Bragge, author of the late beloved comix book HATE is a semi-regular contributor. They are enthusiastic users of shitty clip art.
Not as Dork-waddy as it once was, or still thinks it is. Good read for the entire half an hour it takes to read it. Sometimes rip-yer-hair out fucking awesome. Ads in the back of the book are eyeball exploding Photoshop abortions of a very dire nature.
Weird one this. Some issues are monuments to sitting-with-old-people type boredom, yet others go all antipodeal on you and induce fever dreams with their perfection. And it’s always all suck or all awesome. Winsome NPR folkishness sometimes creeps in. PJ O’Rourke contributes and is rarely funny anymore. Not like I am.
Either pointless or the most vital expression of culture on the goddamn planet. I can’t decide. Asian American culture with a nice side business on pointless pop trash, vinyl figures, exploitation cinema and pretty art. Fucking awesome, though only quarterly.
Thuggish DADA humor. I’m not sure how working on this idiosyncratic magazine translates into success in the greater world, but it does somehow, as lots of famous douchebags wrote for it.
Experimental weirdo music magazine from the UK. I used to read it monthly, but the all-too-often outraged vegan undergraduate tone got to me. (David Toop is an exception.) A train-wreck-fascinating monthly column called the Invisible Jukebox can be good for a laugh (or a wince), A hapless weirdo music superstar, like say Steve Reich, gets ambushed by a creepy journalist and forced to listen to mystery songs. A full 80% of the column is then given to the writer putting words of portent and depth in the poor slob musician's mouth. Design is pretty good in a UK kind of way.
This is a magazine about action figures. However you feel about the previous statement pretty much sums up how you’ll feel about this bitch.
Labels: reviews, Trifles and Joshes