oli johns

Castle Damijana/Teito Monogatari in and around Sham Shui Po

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When there’s no more books in Hell, my old, drifty, Slovene-y stab at horror, Castle Damijana, [plus Teito Monogatari] will rise i.e. be dragged around Sham Shui Po and the flower market.

Half of the pics were taken in an info-shop called Black Window [where I also picked up a Palestine resources booklet made by another collective in Brighton]. They have a decent zine collection that I will be back to look at in more detail when I have time.

If anyone’s attracted by the Castle Damijana cover [done by Soren Häxan] the whole thing is free to read on here.

Plot-wise, it’s similar to the Star Trek DS9 episode where Jake Sisko gets yellow energy sucked out of his head by Meg Foster while writing his masterpiece, but this one’s set in Slovenia and is better.

Teito is just Teito, my permanent Japanese migraine.

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Continue reading →

New Release // Perma Neon O

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Yes, that mess above is a front cover drawn/scrawled by my own hand and, yes, it is a pretty accurate tone-setter for my new experimental novella type thing out today over at Schism Neuronics.

There’s no plot summary cos there’s no plot, only chaos, but it does include the following at some point:

Trek, Phantasm, self-cannibalisation, Bava sci-fi riff, messy Chinese, the colour black, a sketch that started out as Barbara Steele in ‘Nightmare Castle’ and ended up a kind of void princess, a poem merging my anxiety and Hellraiser III, insane Chinese, Trash Lectosign etc.

Sounds like a lot but the whole thing comes in at 100 pages dead on. Even my wife is considering reading it!

Thanks to Gary J. Shipley for all his work publishing this.

You can read the e-book for free as a PDF here.

A Nightmare On Elm Street 2 // Oli Johns

Only one bad thing about sleep they say

it closely resembles rococo worlds the boiler room

no tannoy skin flaking off hours

Goya cam

[Daddy can’t help you now]

Grrr.

Let me in, Jesse

You’ve got the body I’ve got the brains

you’ve got

the body young vacant taut body you’ve got it J that body MY future body ripe body soft skinned teen golem body untouched by other martyred caretaker men uncut unpossessed let me in J cos I’ve got the brains glove urge tongue and you the body that fucking body track + field body arms legs hands dick nine inch ten with low pubes kind ruler Ron in shower semi-hard boy you’ve got the-

[Hey, Grady, do you remember your dreams?

Only the wet ones.]

Yank back Schrader town pack up the guards

We need mirrors.

Shame.

Church cinema.

Seek contact and never achieve glove in the mail balls in the biscuit tin.

To glow that way is insane.

Retrograde.

Continue reading →

Psycho Holosuite #Issue 1 [Out Now]

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 →

POL POT

Note: this was originally on spork press

Pol Pot was dead.

Then there was a helicopter, an aeroplane, a scientist, some drugs, some lightning and a video recording of some guy screaming ‘It’s alive…mostly.’

Pol Pot was man again.

But he felt bad.

Really bad.

The last twenty years or so he had been on the edge of nothingness. But only on the edge. Something wouldn’t let him fall in, he didn’t know what, so he’d been sitting there, his legs dangling over the edge, thinking about everything he’d done in his life while others came, waved and then dropped into the abyss.

The first four years had been okay.

He’d had a decent life, hadn’t done much wrong. He’d risen high, met every challenge in the face, dealt with those who turned against him.

But still he couldn’t fall into nothingness.

After four years and a bit, a farmer from his country drifted by and called him a ‘monster.’

‘Sorry?’ said Pot, confused.

‘I said, ‘monster’,’ the farmer repeated.

‘Do I know you?’

‘Not really.’

‘So why do you call me monster?’

‘Because you told someone to kill me, monster.’

‘I did?’ Continue reading →

PsYChO hOLosUitE [zine]