Buddy

"You hold in your hands an odd collection of stories from emerging writers that are scattered around the various and sundry neighborhoods of Chicago. There's not theme, no running gag. In this issue post-apocalypse sits side-by-side with prison rape, fruity manifestos clash with good old fashioned action star badassery."

Terry Plumming, published in Chicago, contains graphic work of a more "my roommate just gave me a whole ton of meth and now I think the walls are made of armpits" style. The jaggy drawings and contorted slogans that pack each page compliment the accompanying CD. Quite often a Terry Plumming CD makes me feel as if I'm hosting a seance through an AM radio and channeling the best of the noise tape-trading scene. Vital to the hope of any futher human mutation.