Archive for October 2013

We’re Famous?

In case you missed it last week, we somehow managed to appear not only in a BlogTO article about notable zine makers present at this year’s Canzine, but at the top of the article, as the first ones mentioned!!!!*

*If the exuberance by which this was written seems ostentatious, please know that it’s actually due to our surprise at being regarded even remotely highly by anyone, and, thus, it’s indicative more of our insecurity and very low standards of our esteem.

Our Hero

It's just occurred to me that in our contemptible neglect of this web log for the past few years, we’ve yet to even mention Fran Lebowitz, whose venomous wit and misanthropic intellect we first encountered only a few years ago. Because she is such an embodiment of the Deep Madderian subjectivity, here’s a documentary about our favourite fellow curmudgeon:
 

Canzine 2013

In an attempt to resurrect this long-neglected (though honest) journal of our activities, here are a few sentences on the Canzine that just transpired:
 
Please forgive this temporary burst of positivity, but today’s (technically yesterday’s, as I'm writing this after midnight) Canzine was the best yet. Anthologies were sold to no fewer than TEN passersby (who surely already regret their decisions)—some having bought more than one—and more than eighty individual issues were distributed (i.e. people were willing to take them) for free. I don't know what sort of strange spell we inadvertently cast on today’s attendees, but I'm still in disbelief. The best part is that we’ve developed proto-friendships with the writers of Clapboard House, who are evidently (though it‘s still hard to believe) fans of our work, with whom we found ourselves relating about almost every esoteric interest we have (in our first conversations with them, no less).
 
Several passersby also expressed a surprising degree of interest in D.M.M., to the extent that one even gave us her e-mail address so that we may send her future issues. The most bizarre part of the whole day, speaking of which, those who were most interested in our work were all female, contrary to both our personal histories and to our work’s ostensive appeal. It still feels like a dream. I guess it’s a good thing that the end of D.M.M. is nigh.