Breast Fed by Satellites
This hand printed short story zine is readable from cover to cover in about 6 minutes, and half of those are wasted by a foul mouthed and scatological tract about isolation that goes nowhere. A Y2K fable about aliens who come to destroy earth is much better, evoking a spirit of Philip K. Dick and Kurt Vonnegut and coming complete with a moral, but like everything else in here could do with some editing and polish. Most of this zine seems like a first draft. The writer here obviously has some imagination, but that doesn’t excuse laziness. (DF)