S&L #81 Autumn 2004
Things have been rather sluggish here around the S&L HQ. Besides the changing seasons, and the predictable slowing down of energy which comes with the colder darker days, this issue found itself in even worse of an ad crisis than the last issue. S&L is dependent on the advertising which balances the pages out and ultimately pays for the printing so that the zine can be free. This formula has worked for years and I am thankful to those who have helped to make it possible. The type is small so I can fit more content into the pages. I co
What if the means to do so stared you right in the face would you use it?
Three Women Raped at Pointless Fest
Sometimes, situations are handled almost exactly the way that you feel they should be. When dealing with fucked up situations-the best remedies normally are most present in retrospect—but sometimes things fall into place exactly how they should. Last month a negative situation emerged and I can truly say that it was handled well by the community I am part of.
There's nowhere else in the world quite like the Northern Rockies. And it's not just because this is one big fuckin' mountain range that literally bisects most of the North American continent. Nope, there's something else to 'em; something far more mysterious and foreboding than my beloved Cascades or Klamaths. Perhaps it's the absolutely unfathomably steep terrain where mountains seem to have mountains growing upon them. Or the dark hollows where direct sunlight hasn't hit earth in 20 million years.
It was six months I spent without my own space, with a small crazy feeling growing in the back of my mind preventing me from taking my life too seriously. Half that time, I spent living in the house I helped to build from the remnants of old stuffy 1980s style business men. In the three and a half months I spent there I stayed in four different rooms, from a recently vacated room, to a sublet, to a guest room, to my friend’s room when she left town. I had a desk, a typewriter, my cat, some clothes and music. I played music in a band, hung out
At 14, I had a defiant punk rock appearance yet was actually pretty unsure of myself. Since preschool, I had been an outcast, taunted and shunned by other kids, and I usually preferred the company of a book or my crayons to other people. When I started high school, it seemed like the perfect opportunity to recreate my identity from scratch. I instantly became close with two punk kids - Nick and Heather. Nick was my age, skinny, freckle-faced, and really quiet. He was my first boyfriend.
The power still remains: Amebix and their use of the art of Austin Osman Spare
by Bood Samel (firstname.lastname@example.org)
On Voting, Tattoo Shops and Paper Street.
Getting Out: isolated struggle and the open road