Psycho Holosuite #Issue 1 [Out Now]

psycho holosuite7-2

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Zine: Psycho Holosuite [Issue 1]

Pages: 80 [print version], 90 [e-version]

Contributors: Berit Ellingsen, Frankie Sachs, Soren Melville, Thomas Stolperer, Marc Horne, Tyson Bley and me [Oli].

Release date: Now

Notes:

Well, after printing this thing 5 months ago and watching it sit in a box in the corner of my living room doing nothing ever since, I can finally say, man, it’s out.

By ‘out’ I mean available for order in stripped down e-form on amazon, and on its way in glorious zine form to the following places:

Atomic Books [Baltimore]

The Coming Society [Hong Kong]

Sticky Institute [Melbourne]

Housmans [London]

Book Thug Nation [NYC]

Molasses [NYC]

Quimby’s [Chicago]

There are still 4-5 places we’re gonna add to this list, but you can find out more about these confirmed stockists here.

All of them are decent and well stocked with zines from all kinds of people, so even if you don’t like our one, you probably will like at least one zine there.

Also, if you want to order a copy, just e-mail us and we’ll see if there’s any left.

What’s in Issue 1 of this zine?

Well, there’s: Continue reading

Uchujin Time Strip

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In many ways Susan Sarandon was more than just the lub interest from Bull Durham and the ex-wife of Tim Robbins, she was also the mind interest of sub space aliens who conducted experiments with/in/outside of time.

 

It had started, the Sarandon interest, when a stray signal from Earth swerved and poked itself into sub space by mistake…and ended up on one of the screens inside an alien base only eight sub-parsecs from the Sol System [not that distance really mattered].

 

Alien: What’s this?

Alien 2: White Palace.

Alien: Well…I don’t like white, and I don’t really like palaces…wait, who’s that?

Alien 2: The one with the stick?

Alien: No.

Alien 2: The one with the hills?

Alien: Yes, who is she?

Alien 2: Susan Sarandon.

Alien: Wow.

Alien 2: I know.

 

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RULE 17 of Chrono-strip-experimentation:

Always seek permission from a representative of the subject’s world, even if that representative seems to be out of their depth.

If refused, ask another.

 

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The sub space aliens ordered the face cream, pulled out the temporal hacksaws and grew four tongues [two as back-up].

The face cream would take a few weeks to arrive, so they passed the time by watching the 14th century.

Their notes:

 

Black Death = efficient culling of general population, mostly peasants

Red Death = efficient culling of Italian nobles who worshipped something called Satan. Continue reading

Nihongo Mata

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It’s been a while, ten years or so, but there’s a honeymoon in Kyushu coming up so it’s back to the Japanese textbooks cos if I don’t know how to say, “which way to the island volcano?” then we’re fucked.

If we were heading to Tokyo or Osaka it wouldn’t be a problem, but we’re going to isolated places and I’ve been to Sado Island before so I know what’s coming. I know they only speak Japanese, formal Japanese too, the words with no end.

Last time on Sado, Aya was there so I didn’t have to say much. In fact, she specifically told me not to speak as my Japanese was bad.

It’s true, I had problems putting equal stress on the whole word.

E.g. I would say To-MO-mi, instead of To-mo-mi.

It’s quite hard to get the hang of cos English speakers are used to putting stress somewhere.

This time I will be better. I’m sure of it.

Oh Aya, whatever happened to her?

She was a bit pretentious, but so was I so we got on okay.

I remember we shared a futon in the Sado Island ryokan and I woke up in the night and she was staring at me.

‘Oli, what does Fibreglassy mean?’ Continue reading

Mum Raa searching for ryokans + peace in Kyushu

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The search for non-touristy ryokans in Kyushu was tough for Mum-raa cos he/she/it never read reviews

and

when he/she/it did accidentally they were never trusted cos he/she/it didn’t know who glassslipper27 really was and his/her/its henchmen [ex-henchmen] couldn’t hear any good or bad about them no matter how many times they smashed the funny-looking robot with letters that were not the same letters they learnt as a kid.

What was an acer?

Mum-raa knew but he/she/it was not telling.

not telling the henchmen

they were too malleable, both ways,

and besides, Mum-Raa was

too busy staring at pictures of the island volcano that everyone else in Japan seemed to ignore.

Good base, good slope, hard for hybrids to attack unless they had plot on their side.

Fucking lion looking cunt fucker ugly spotty little

Mum-raa bookmarked the island volcano with ‘potential home’ in his/her/its own language and moved back to ryokans cos he/she/it couldn’t sleep on the street, it was too dirty.

The site looked dated, like wordpress, but could still function

There were still pictures with 1980’s Japanese faces

It was something Continue reading

Untitled 427 or High Rise // Tyson Bley

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PHALLIC HIGH RISE OVER 2 FLOORS
AND GAFF IS RECOMMENDED
GOOD NIGHT AND THE FACT THAT IN STALKING ME
NOT LEFT TERMINATOR TIE-IN
THE FAT GUY I TRIED TO FIT DOGGIES
HOOKUP CLUTCHING AS MUCH AS
SUPER-CHILLED NOT TO SCREEN PORCH
TOOK A BATH LOAF
RECENTLY WILL ENTERTAIN BOIL
CARRYING AS MUCH AS POSSIBLE DAMP
MIND THAT BLUR MADE OF
KINDNESS WANTS TO KEEP VICTIM SIDE BY SIDE
EINSTEIN WHICH IS ON TOP?
ON THE RIGHT SIDE LOOKS AS
AFFECTED AREAS WHEN ANOTHER ONE
OZZY OSBOURNE FACING LEFT BRAIN’S
NASTY SECRETLY WHAT FOR WHAT?
FACTS BECOME CAVE AND ALSO KILLED
SEASHELLS DECORATED HISTORY
DON’T LAUGH AROUND THE WORLD’S TOUGHEST CUSTOMERS
NON-STORY NASTY SECRETLY KILLED
SIDE BY SIDE THE HARROW DEATH AND LIVE
ITCHY BALL IS LIFE WILL HAVE JUST STAYED
AT MY FRIEND’S HOUSE OF THE SOCKS WERE TRAMPLED LIDS
I DON’T HEAR BUZZING DURING ANY
DRONE OF THE NEW BABY
I DON’T THINK INCIDENTS LIKE THESE
HAPPENED TO ME AS MUCH AS ANTI-CRIME
OF THE GAY EQUIVALENT

PREVENTS PERVERT INCIDENTS

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FAO DUNCAN JONES / DUNC
Here’s what I got so far, it’s not much, hope it’s not too removed from original source.
G.
Title: No idea
Characters: Ozzy Osbourne [a lookalike is better as it plays to the whole real/facsimile aspect]
                     Gaff
                     Fat Guy
                     Gay Equivalent [can be a hitman perhaps? Mythical name…]
                     World’s toughest customers [anti-capitalist cult]

Continue reading

Wentworth Miller [Michael from Prison Break] in Ljubljana

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Day One

Plane lands. Airport no bigger than a post office. Walk around a little, but nowhere really to walk to. Get the bus into Ljubi…Ljubla…fuck it, into Loobylana. Mountains in the distance look like they have snow on top, but could just be white rock.

Mountains don’t go away. Lean in close to the window and really think about what that stuff is. Nothing to confirm it, but come up with theory: dirty snow sometimes looks like white rock.

Get bored and look at seats around me. All empty. Think of Anna. ‘Europe’s creepy. You should go to Seattle instead.’

Try not to think of Anna.

Mountains leave and Loobylana appears. Lots of buildings, none of them more than four storeys. This is the capital?

The hostel is bleak. Looks like a military barracks. No cushions or beanbags…only so many hard-edge surfaces I can take.

Check phone – still no word from Anderson about the script. Beginning to think he prefers to write his own.

Go for a walk by the river and see lots of French people. Lots of Germans too. Had always thought this, but now I know – all Germans look like Billy Fichtner.

Take a path up to the castle on the hill at 11pm. No lights, no people. Feel a little scared, but keep going, hoping the environment will provoke ideas.

The castle walls are covered in red light. Makes me think of Ninth Gate, Polanski, Depp. Walk over a wooden plank bridge and expect something to pull me under. Nothing does. It’s creepy quiet up here.

Idea – Tenth Gate? Unrelated character from original goes up to Loobylana castle at night and crosses into different dimension. Use red light a lot. Put something scary under the plank. Beggars maybe. Continue reading

The Deterritorialisation of Nick Nolte

Does the 1982 Eddie Murphy classic “48 Hrs.” hold up today ...

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      Nick Nolte the wildman drunk woke up after a long night of reading, drinking and smoking and [with light storming in] realised he was no longer Nick Nolte.

‘Shit…’

As he brushed his teeth in the bathroom he further realised he hadn’t been Nick Nolte for a long time.

‘Shit, padre…’

He showered, put his contacts in and tried to figure out some kind of time scale.

Twenty years?

Longer?

That cop film…the Eddie Murphy thing…was that it?

He walked into his second living room, in the beach pad bought by Nick Nolte the mad scientist in that green monster film, and thought about what he should do next.

A few seconds later he went sideways and thought about why he’d come to think of this in the first place.

There were all those books he’d been reading. The ones Walter said would give him trouble.

But, shit…just fiction and philosophy, he thought.

Cela and the Life of Pascal Dirty. Camus and the third man. Celine and the long journey through the night. Malaparte and…what was it…Virus? Disease? Sartre and the nausea. Takahashi and the Sayonara Gangsters. Hesse and those two guys…Nazi and Goldman.

Shit, just fiction and ideas…

He shrugged and went back to thinking of that other thing, the plan, what he should do next.

******

Nick Nolte the wildman drunk stood in front of the bathroom mirror and combed his hair. He brushed his teeth again, whiter than white, then smiled to the other.

‘Beautiful,’ he said. ‘A Goddamn Philandropist.’

******

In the police station the first arrestee smirked and said, ‘no reason, man.’

He was slapped twice then put back in the cell.

The second arrestee smirked and said, ‘fuck you.’

He was given a ‘fuck you’ back, slapped and put back in his cell.

The seven arrestees that came next were all pretty much the same way. Continue reading

[Preview] Psycho Holosuite Zine // Issue 1

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Zine: Psycho Holosuite [Issue 1]

Pages: 80 [print version], 90 [e-version]

Contributors: Berit Ellingsen, Frankie Sachs, Soren Melville [cover artist], Thomas Stolperer, Marc Horne, Tyson Bley and me [Oli].

Release date: September 1st

Publication: Every 3-4 months hopefully

Notes:

Unlike the Gupter Puncher zines I’ve done before, I really like the name of this one.

The issue number was going to be higher to give the impression the zine’s been running for longer than it has, but I scrapped that idea and just went with ‘1’.

80 Pages isn’t that many, even with 6 other contributors.

Theme? Stories?

The first issue of this zine will deal with a] authenticity and b] dread.

The stories will be alive and integrated fluidly into the zine, not just put down on the page to be admired.

There will be e-mails and comments and tangents all over the place.

There will be time travel and dying astronauts and riker from Star Trek [barely] and a hybrid designed specifically to colonise Mars.

There will be a Ray Bradbury piss-take.

There will even be notes for most of the Freddy films written by me pretending to be Robert Englund. Continue reading

Space Capsule [featuring IT as IT]

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Kaia don’t

don’t open it I don’t wanna see

don’t please

don’t

Kaia don’t

its dark out there

don’t

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Last night I had a dream, a space dream that reminded me black and white of younghood, of anxiety times when I used to fear things like knives/ freddy/ dying before Christmas/ being cut/ recycling my mother’s madness and worst of all floating above Jupiter without any support nearby no other ships or space stations or defiant or kira nerys to swoop in and save me from floating downwards to the surface of big non-ascending Jupiter and there was no spaceship holding me either it was just me and my spacesuit and my helmet and my gloves and that’s about it and although it takes time to be pulled into the atmosphere I was in a dream and dream time was the constant I was dealing with so

I could see the planet getting closer and closer and the red spot getting bigger and bigger as big as Neptune until quickly it was gone and the black was gone and I was falling into the pink and grey and blue misty stuff the thermosphere or troposphere and I know technically I should’ve been crushed or having a heart attack at this point but it was a dream so it was a hundred times worse.

The idea that you have no idea where you’re floating to it’s been done a few times in star trek specifically the night episode of Voyager and every time it makes me anxious I can’t help it and every time it happens in my Jupiter dream I wake up and thank the universe that I’m not anywhere near that fucking planet and am unlikely to be so for the rest of my life.

I want to go to space someday, just not alone in a spacesuit and not too deep where its dark and Continue reading

Quantum Hitler

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A quickie showing what might’ve happened if Hitler had been replaced by an alternate Hitler who was a little more Quantum…

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In 2247, a secret science experiment conducted in the desert near Almeria, Spain created a quantum rip in the space quantum continuum and the Hitler from an alternative 1923 found himself face to face with the Hitler from the 1923 we know of.

Despite identical faces and the vortex above their heads, they didn’t shoot each other.

‘Are we the same?’ Quantum Hitler asked, dusting off his jacket.

‘Maybe.’

‘What year is it?’

‘1923.’

‘What are you doing?’

‘Planning a putsch.’

‘A putsch? No, wait, you can’t. I just stopped…’

‘It’ll be glorious.’

‘…that.’

Quantum Hitler moved in with his twin and tried for many months to talk him out of his putsch.

It was not easy.

‘Don’t do it, Ado…it’s completely unnecessary.’

‘It’s not.’

‘You’ll be arrested.’

‘I’ll be a martyr.’

‘No, not killed, arrested. They’ll put you in prison and everyone will forget about you.’

‘I’ll be a prison martyr.’ Continue reading