 |
A copy of The NEWSLETTER.
|
By Sean Bohrman
The Alternative Press Expo is the largest small press, alternative, and self-published comics show in the country. It is a time for nerds, losers, and your general social outcasts to come together and rejoice in their undying geekdom. It is a time for middle-aged men to proudly display their SpongeBob SquarePants shirts and teenagers to throw away all hope of finding a willing member of the opposite sex by wearing t-shirts that read, “I’d Rather be Masturbating.” These people are our targets - our weapons. The NEWSLETTER is our ammunition and information.
Hello, my name is Doktor Rev. Shaw, registered Doktor of the Forbidden Sciences and Reverend of the Church of the SubGenius. For the past four years I have been perfecting the ultimate distraction, a magazine inaptly named The NEWSLETTER. While its outer appearance may seem harmless, what lurks inside these pages was enough to have me suspended twice, questioned by police on two separate occasions, transferred to another school and charged with terrorist threats. But through all of these trials and tribulations came forth a completely random, variety-show style publication that is adored by a select group of intellectuals and connoisseurs of bad taste. This ultimately brings us to the Alternative Press Expo, where I purchased a table in order to push the product. The NEWSLETTER had visited this culmination of comic geeks once before, while it was being held in San Jose. We sold out of all of the issues we brought, but not before the police were called on us and we had offended everyone in the general vicinity of our booth. This year’s convention was being held in my least favorite town, San Francisco, on February 9th and 10th. Second in command, Killer D, and I had little time to polish up our selling routines.
To begin with, I was pretty much unprepared for the entire event. I had no money, no extra copies of The NEWSLETTER, and I still needed to put together a complimentary issue to give away. I won’t bore you with details as to how all of this came together or how I got the money, but when all was said and done, I had 400 copies of The NEWSLETTER and I was down about $850 dollars. I didn’t realize that the whole shebang would cost as much as it did, and as I saw the total rising, I came to the grim realization that I wasn’t even going to make a third of it back. But I convinced myself that I wasn’t going to worry about the money and just focus on publicizing my magazine. So, the day before the convention I packed my bags and hightailed it to San Francisco to meet my partner in crime, Killer D, who would be arriving by train.
Upon arriving, I checked into our over-priced hotel and braced myself for what would prove to be the most difficult task I would encounter on my trip - trying to find a parking space on a Friday night in downtown San Francisco. After half an hour of searching and getting lost, like a light from heaven, I found a space. I walked up and down the piers for a while until I finally came across Killer D staring blankly into traffic, waiting for me to arrive. Let me tell you something about Killer D; he is the strangest person I have ever met in my life. He is obsessed with gymnastics and karate and teaches himself kicks and flips in the park across from his house. He is also not ashamed of showing off these skills to complete strangers, whether they want to watch him or not. This is Killer D’s charm; he is completely oblivious to the norms of society and he thinks that he could take down two tigers, a hippopotamus, or Andre the Giant with a stick.
Once we had settled into our hotel room, we decided to see what the mean streets of San Francisco had to offer us. We began our journey looking for Pier 38, which someone on the train had recommended to Killer D as “the place to be.” After discovering that there was nothing special about Pier 38, we were led to the real place to be, Pier 39, but it seems that the festivities had ended just before we arrived. We kept on walking down the street until we came upon a man standing on a box, dressed in silver, with mask and all, who displayed a cardboard sign that stated that he was “The World Famous Silver Man.” But this World Famous Silver Man made the unfortunate mistake of trying to startle the lesser-known Killer D. As the Silver Man motioned toward my friend with his fist, Killer D began leaping in the air and kicking in his general direction in the middle of a crowded sidewalk. It was difficult to tell which one was the crazy bum and which one was my friend. When Killer D was finished displaying his self-taught prowess of the martial arts, the Silver Man began giving him tips on how he could make his kicks flow better. They argued for over 10 minutes until I forced him out of the conversation.
 |
Lou Ferrigno, aka The Incredible Hulk, is one of many celebrities interviewed in The NEWSLETTER.
|
After this incident we decided to make our way back to the hotel. On the way, we ran into a group of drug dealers, who each greeted us with a friendly “what are you guys looking for?” These were our kind of people, so we sat down on the corner with them and chatted it up. We learned that the presumed leader’s name was “Dookie.” We also learned that these people were friends with the World Famous Silver Man, who was known on the streets as “Eric.” After hesitantly turning down their offers of mind-altering drugs, we made it back to the safe confines of our hotel room and prepared for a long day of selling our magazine.
The NEWSLETTER was the reason; cold, hard cash was the purpose. We arrived at the Alternative Press Expo just after it opened and had to walk about half a mile across a park in order to get to the Herbst Pavilion, where the festivities were being held. So this meant carrying boxes a short distance, sitting down for five minutes, and then continuing the process until we had reached our table. After setting up our makeshift sign and stands, we put on our selling faces and unleashed a furious barrage of sales pitches such as, “You seem like an intelligent person” or “How would you like to have your life changed?” And for those unfortunate few of strong will who were able to resist our selling powers, we had pre-made Post-It notes that read, “Don’t talk to me, I didn’t buy a NEWSLETTER” or “Poke me with something sharp, I didn’t buy a NEWSLETTER.” I only received two complaints from people in regards to the Post-It notes.I laughed in their faces and told them it was their own fault for not purchasing our fine product. Among the highlights of the convention was Killer D receiving a back massage from a 14-year-old girl and then talking to her hippie mother about hanging out later that evening. I made it clear that I wanted no part in this potentially illegal situation and luckily, we never saw the girl again. Throughout the day Killer D had been leaping back and forth over our table with much success. But it only took one time for him to mess up our table and make enemies with the people located next to us. He attempted to make the jump in order to impress some passersby, caught his foot on one of our stands, and knocked down the chair that belonged to our neighbors. He also missed their laptop computer by only a few inches, and what does Killer D do to remedy the situation? He tries to leap back over the table. I convince him not to make the jump and he crawls under our table and leaves to get something to eat. While he’s gone the lady next to us starts telling me how Killer D shouldn’t be jumping over things, and she begins to raise her voice, so I tell her to calm down and that I can’t control what he does. He’s his own person. Needless to say, that was the last time either side spoke to each other, that is until Killer D left his already used Kleenex on their table. By the time the first day was over we had made $190 and managed to not get kicked out of the convention. When the next day came around I had to drop Killer D off at the Amtrak station in the morning and man the table at the Alternative Press Expo by myself. I was able to rake in another $40 and leave just in time to catch the new episode of “The Simpsons.” By all means, except financially, this trip was a success.
In the end, The NEWSLETTER had made a whopping $230 and we had offended or embarrassed a good amount of people. We also had a chance to meet many admirers of the Church of the SubGenius and other sub-humans of equal mind. And even though I lost $620, we still had fun. Although I can’t say that I had $620 worth of fun, the memories, I hope, will last a lifetime.
|
