“The normal state of her room was if she had just been burglarized: drawers pulled out and resting on the floor,” writes Ross Priddle, author of the weirdly effervescent, hand scripted, TrancMog. A black half page photocopying accident fades into a dense monologue that degenerates into words the way a corpse rots. Neither here nor there, TrancMog is difficult, but sensible reading, and an excellent primer of post-apocalyptic literature. You have to be either exceptionally patient or exceptionally weird to get through it. (HN)
zine, #2, 12 pages / main creator: Ross Priddle / $2 / 2367 Central Ave., Victoria, BC, V8S 2S3