Andrew Roller Presents
C O M I C U P D A T E
FREE! Internet Edition May 13, 1995
THE COMIC UPDATE ARCHIVES
by Andrew Roller
From: COMIC UPDATE #1, August 1, 1986
Guidelines for Researchers: I have dispensed with the Ògrading system.Ó
Where the current address of the artist is known, I have published it.
Ubiquitous Funnies #2, 25¢. Mini. Brian Kirk.
Headline: COLA CRAZY
Story Preview: Asinine Head buys the same bottle of Moot cola from
a convenience store over and over again in an attempt to convince the
cashier that he is drinking gallons and gallons of soda.
Story Critique: Who cares if Asinine Head does convince the cashier
that he is consuming gallons of cola? Does he win some prize?
Apparently not. So whatÕs the big deal?
1995 Commentary: Brian Kirk is one of the all-time great stars of
the 80Õs small press universe, although he seems to have dropped
completely out of sight in the 90Õs. Although I saw one or two excellent
stories by Brian, he is mainly recognized for his terrific art.
E.J. McMahon #1, 25¢. Mini. John Hansel.
Headline: CLEVER KOALA COMBATS CRIME
Story Preview: Detective E.J. McMahon, a koala bear, investigates a
poster shop where an employee has been kidnapped and posters have been
vandalized.
Story Critique: McMahon gets caught by a client reading girlie
magazines. ThatÕs pretty funny. But I could care less about the kidnapped
store employee or the vandalized posters.
1995 Commentary: ÒA one-year wonder,Ó (but at least not a one-
shot wonder), John is one of those people who completely dropped out of
the picture no later than the end of 1986.
Crow Guy #1, 25¢. Mini. John Hansel.
Headline: DARK NUT
Story Preview: Crow Guy engages a pair of criminals (to his
detriment) and is rescued by the police.
Story Critique: Excellent vignette.
1995 Commentary: A parody of ÒThe Dark Knight,Ó by DC Comics.
Stupid Boy #4, 25¢. Mini. Matt Feazell, 3867 Bristow, Detroit MI 48212.
Headline: STUPID SHERIFF
Story Preview: Stupid boy takes a trip in his imaginary closet to the
wild West, only to be besieged by indians and the dreaded Max, greatest
gunfighter in the West.
Story Critique: Excellent story.
1995 Commentary: Matt was mentioned, of course, in our May 11th
Update, and is still doodling away. Any book by Matt is a wise investment.
At one time, I knew nothing about the small press. Matt sent me
what he described as a Òcomic book.Ó When I got it, I eagerly opened the
envelope, only to find a tiny little booklet. (A minicomic.) As you might
imagine, it looked so small, I said, ÒWhat the fuck is this?Ó (Remember,
even if I paid for it, and I donÕt know that I did, it only cost me 25¢.) I
mention this experience because you too may be shocked if youÕve never
seen a minicomic before. Someone will show you one at a convention or
something and youÕll react the same way I did. However, minicomics are
the primary mode of expression for small press artists. (Well, digests are
very popular too, but IÕve always been partial to the mini.) So they are a
legitimate artform, the ONLY one that is not constrained by Òcommercial
necessityÓ or Òpolitically correct considerations.Ó Friend, your X-MEN
comics wonÕt be worth anything in 100 years. But minicomics, as
authentic expressions of contemporary American thoughts, feelings, and
values, will be as important as anything by an Òordinary JoeÓ can ever be.
I feel that historians will look right past Time, Newsweek, X-MEN, et. al.,
and straight to minicomics and other ÒephemeraÓ to find out what
America was really all about in this era. At least, minicomics will be an
important component of the historianÕs studies. Minicomics (and small
press) are a forum where people can say what they think, instead of
towing the party line.
Z I N E R E V I E W S
by Jim Corrigan
NAMBLA Bulletin, Vol. 13, No. 2, No. 3, $3.95 each. 8 1/2" x 11", 16 pages,
24 pages respectively. The North American Man/Boy Love Association, P.O.
Box 174, Midtown Station, New York, NY 10018; (212) 807-8578.
The last great battle for freedom is upon us. Perhaps you wanted to
participate in the colored civil rights movement, or the anti-slavery
movement. Perhaps you wanted to fight to give women the right to vote.
Tough shit, dude, those battles are over. Women can vote, negroes have to
be paid for the work they do, and they can (legally, at least) walk where
they please. Not so with pedophiles, and those who love them.
You're free to criticize the government. At one time if you
criticized the government you got your head cut off. And, like I said,
blacks and women are not (legally) discriminated against. Gays, too, have
made good progress, at least in terms of how they are treated by the
liberal press. The same goes for lesbians and AIDS victims, the mentally
ill, the homeless, E.T. the Extraterrestrial, etc. Even witches don't get a
bum rap anymore. But, alas, the pedophile is born free, yet everywhere he
is in chains.
However, there is a bright side to the cause of the pedophile.
Today's George Washington has no British to fight, yet he can battle an
equally omnipotent state for the rights of the pedophile. A modern James
Madison cannot task himself with the writing of the Federalist Papers,
but he can pen pamphlets on the justice of pedophilia.
The NAMBLA Bulletin contains articles and fabled deeds of just
such American heroes, today's Nathan Hale, today's Patrick Henry.
America's freedom fighters are not to be found amongst CIA-funded drug-
running gangs in Nicaragua. They are right here, all around us, in prisons,
children's homes ("When Kids Molest Kids," Newsweek, March 30), and the
NAMBLA Bulletin.
NAMBLA is not an organization for gay men, or, for that matter,
pedophiles and those who love them. NAMBLA is an organization to which
all free peoples should belong, and certainly everyone who claims to be an
American, the inheritor of the sacrifices already made in the name of
freedom by so many of our forbears. In his State of the Union address
President George Bush spoke of "doing the hard work of freedom." Yes,
George, freedom does involve hard work, very hard work, but that work
doesn't include dismembering little boys and girls in Iraq with American
bombs. Rather, it means cherishing your birthright to freedom, and
working to enlarge and expand that freedom, just as so many before us
worked to create the freedoms we take for granted today.
M A G A Z I N E R E V I E W S
by holy joe
Penthouse, June 1995, $6.99. From the usual suspects: Tower Books and
Pornography, WaldenBooks and Pornography, etc.
Review: If you have been abstaining from pornography (our publisher
has been known to do this from time to time, though he eventually
succumbs to the wicked lure of female flesh)...If you have been abstaining
from pornography, NOW IS NOT THE TIME! After a slew of issues featuring
decrepit old ladies in (admittedly) interesting positions, Bob Guccione has
finally put out a decent issue. It is, perhaps, the best Penthouse of all
time!
ÒWhat, you may ask, could be so great about yet another issue of
Penthouse?Ó Well, you see, there is this girl. (I am not a reviewer for
nothing, you know. I am full of insightful comments like that.) She is
wearing a blindfold! Now that, to me, is pretty cool. And Brandi (thatÕs
her name) is posed in absolutely delightful ways, looking just the part of
some pretty victim wilfully falling into the hands of the man in the layout
(Rocco). And we must wonder, as we look, are there others watching?
Unseen others, waiting to watch her denoument?
That certainly seems the case with this monthÕs Pet, Elizabeth, and
she is a doozy. You will have trouble holding yourself in the minute you
look at her first big picture, right at the beginning of her photo spread.
She is licking her lips, you know, with her tits sticking right out, and this
must indeed be the best Pet ever photographed! ItÕs too bad Bob didnÕt get
to her a little sooner, though, for on the adjacent page we can see that her
buttÕs gotten kinda fat. (Mature women get this way, you know. ItÕs all
downhill after age...)
Ahem! Moving right along, one of the most gorgeous Pets of all time
is photographed near the back of this magazine with a Pet of the Year
(Gina & Leslie). They lick strawberries and do other naughty things to
each other, waiting to get caught by their boyfriends, whoÕve stepped out
for the morning, leaving them alone.
Then there is also the Pet Playoff, featuring the more-gorgeous than
ever Pets from last year, each one lovingly portrayed one more time.
There are some real class girls in this group, one in particular, a brunette
(Tiffany), posed over some kind of bearskin rug thing.
Anyway, if you stop by your local Circle K for coffee and see the
June Penthouse there, sticking up behind the counter, and think: ÒOh, well,
I donÕt want to embarrass myself. ItÕs probably just more of the same.Ó
Let me tell you, young man, grab that issue! Even if you see your motherÕs
best friend coming down the street, go ahead and take it. One note,
though, my copy had ÒmanufacturerÕs damage.Ó That damn Bob Guccione
uses paper thatÕs so thin these days that it wrinkles up as it passes
through the printing machine. And guess where the damage was? Right on
the PetÕs beautiful tits. (Like it always is in these matters.) My favorite
Pet, the one licking her lips (Elizabeth), even has a green dot on her left
tit! Now what kind of quality control is that? Is Guccione down to his
last dime? Are the Pets spending too much of his money on panties? I see
that Hugh Hefner is using cheaper paper too. Come on, men, get your act
together! You HAVE the girls, all we got are these fucking pictures! So
make them good ones, not ones with green dots and wrinkles and shit.
Anyway, donÕt miss this issue. DonÕt expect it to show up at your
local water cooler at work. DonÕt expect to find it lying in a bathroom
somewhere. This one is a keeper. Buy two, Ôcause youÕre liable to mess up
the first one you get, if you know what I mean and I think you do.
Now as this is a comix reviewzine, let me say simply that BobÕs X-
Rated comics in this issue are the usual sort of shit. The Dark Knight with
women in it instead of the caped crusader. Frankly, IÕd rather have more
photos in the issue any day, and skip putting in comics. Why pay an artist
to draw a surrealistic copy of what looks better in real life? (Real
ÒphotoÓ life, that is.) Get some more photos in there, Bob, and leave your
comics to the news stand, for people who are considering graduating
upward from Casper the Ghost. Us real men need real photos when we pick
up Penthouse. UNWRINKLED photos. (Of unwrinkles playmates, I might add.
That goes for both Hugh and Bob. ÒFabulous 40Ó indeed!)
C O M I C U P D A T E S T O R I E S
The Fading Universe
Part Three
by Andrew Roller
Chapter Three
The boulevard was dark and deserted. A makeshift barricade had been
thrown across it in an unsuccessful attempt to hold back the Alameda
army; Marvin could make out the bright letters of the word POLICE on an
overturned sawhorse, and nearby an armored personnel carrier with an
Ontario insignia painted on its side sat useless, its tread torn from the
body and tangled between the sprockets of its wheels. Here and there
lay a uniformed corpse.
"We're back in business," Frankie announced, running forward to
strip the soldiers and policemen of their weapons and valuables.
"I claim any food that you find on them," Flaherty yelled.
"Save any tampons you find for Elsa," Perry said with a weak
laugh. Elsa shot him an angry glance but said nothing.
Within a few minutes they had sorted through all the bodies.
Perry had gone aside and, in an act of mad catharsis, castrated several
of the dead. Marvin spotted Flaherty giving a particularly thorough
search to one female soldier who had noticeably large breasts.
They continued walking; past gutted buildings, boarded up shops
and abandoned tenements. Now and then they would stop and peer
inside one of the stores, but most had been ruined by fire, their
interiors glowing eerily with flickering embers.
"Hey, Marv," Harrigan called out. "There's a city bus inside this
store!"
"We must have found the local city bus dealer," Marvin joked. He
peered past the plywood that had been nailed over the storefront
window. The beam of his police flashlight fell on a smashed up bus. "It
must have crashed through the back of the building," he thought aloud.
He directed his flashlight deeper into the shop but couldn't make out
the rear wall in the gloom.
By this time Harrigan had managed to jimmy the front door open
and he, Frankie, and Flaherty were banging around inside the store.
"Sure stinks in here," Harrigan remarked.
"Quit letting so many farts, Flaherty," Frankie said.
"I haven't cut any cheese all day," Flaherty protested.
Harrigan gave a frightened shout. His flashlight clattered to the
floor as he began battering himself with blows. Frankie dashed over to
the man and began beating him with his palms.
"Help! Insects," Frankie cried.
Flaherty bolted out the front door of the shop. Marvin and Elsa ran
inside, Perry hung by the door.
A minute later Harrigan stumbled out of the store's murky
interior, shaken but safe.
"Do you need any help?" Perry asked, purposely tardy in his offer
of assistance.
"No, I'm O.K., thanks," Harrigan mumbled.
"You alright, Harrigan?" Flaherty called from across the street.
Inside the store the bus's engine coughed to life. Its one
surviving headlight blazed through the gloom of the store, blinding
Perry, Frankie, and Harrigan. The bus lurched forward, and burst
through the glass storefront a moment later.
Marvin opened the front door of the bus and kicked out a dead
body. Several cockroaches clung to the corpse as it hit the asphalt.
"Climb aboard," Marvin invited. "It costs a dollar, but I'll waive
the fee as long as you promise to abstain from anal sex."
"Harrigan and I each have a dollar," Frankie said, dropping the
money in the bus's coin box.
Elsa helped Perry climb aboard, despite the boy's protestations
that he could mount the steps himself.
"Boy, this sure beats walking," Flaherty said, hurrying over from
across the avenue.
Harrigan plunked down behind the wheel, folded shut the front
door, and with a wheeze, the bus rambled off down the dim
thoroughfare.
C O M I C U P D A T E N E W S
WILSON'S PENIS SHRIVELS
Exclusive to Comic Update
by holy joe
"Somehow I managed to wind up with the thankless task of converting
one of Roller's porno novels," Wilson told me at the library recently
over hotdogs and beans. "He sent his erotic novel about teenaged girls
having sex to some porno book publishing company and (of course), it
got rejected. But since they're a gay publishing company, Roller thinks
he only got rejected because his novel doesn't feature young boys.
"I have been re-writing this shit, and it is harder than I thought it
would be. Roller gave me a copy of GayMe, some dirty gay men's
magazine, to inspire me. Well, it didn't work. I swear, my dick gets
really small when I am re-writing this stuff. Carol Horn is hornier
than ever, thanks to Roller. She wants me to see a doctor about my
penis. It is very shrivelled these days. I am afraid to take it out in the
men's room."
At this point the librarian told us we were interrupting the
children's story hour. We were forced to leave. That is the problem
with libraries these days, they have no respect for intellectual
discourse. I should think a man's physiological difficulties are more
worthy of discussion in a library than some stupid story about a teddy
bear! Write to the Columbus library and tell them that men have rights
too!
ROLLER PUBLICATIONS Founded 1972. Continuously publishing since
1986. Send a stamped, self-addressed return envelope (preferably a
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(Including material never seen on the Internet!)
Or send $1.00 cash and we will supply the envelope. Order from:
Jim Corrigan, P.O. Box 3663, Phenix City, AL 36868.
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NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS Sex kittens in compromising
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ALL poets are urged to contribute frequently!
THE ORATOR Militant views by misguided mortals.
END OF TRANSMISSION
Subj: Comic Update, May 13, 1995 (Brian Kirk, WilsonÕs Organ)