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Gentle Ben - 2:30 p.m. HollyBolly To Launch Publishing Company News came through via email that HollyBolly is about to launch herself into the world of publishing. How she is going to do it we are not sure, but apparently it involves publishing “things she likes” on paper (possibly between sheets of cardboard, perhaps not) and then, later, when the venture is highly successful, expand into proper covers sold from shops. At first we were quite excited about the proposal until Teddy reminded us about the whole Tres Parrot debacle and how the perfectly good Teddy and Nesbitt Comic Strip ™ we provided her for that particular venture never saw the light of day… and in fact, the magazine itself is still sitting in the “good ideas” basket. Then we weren’t quite as excited as we’d been, downgrading to a more “cautiously optimistic” approach that guards against bitter disappointment. This Is All Very Reminiscent Mr. Oaf once did a series of Bruce The Morose Moose strips for the world famous Sarah Smiles, except that was before she was a famous war correspondent and was a waster student type at UTS. Just like HollyBolly, she was launching her own fanzine and Mr. Oaf was keen. He promised to deliver two strips and despite the time constraints caused by other TEZNEZCO! related business, he managed to get them to her by the nominated date. What Mr. Oaf hadn’t counted on was the fact that there was another comic strip guy who had done a 12 page story and, once he saw the Bruce The Morose Moose strips, demanded that unless Sarah guarantee that his would be the only strips in the fanzine, he’d pull out. Since the magazine was only about 20 pages, and a 12 page gap was going to be rather hard to fill, Bruce was out on his antlers. Mr. Oaf was incensed but what could he do? It later transpired that Sarah’s magazine never eventuated anyway, and it all seemed rather a waste of time. Getting it Off The Ground Mr. Oaf was once told that 90 per cent of fanzines never go past issue one. They are just too expensive to maintain. Nowadays, people use the internet to put their fevered opinions into the world, but there is still something very nice about something on paper. Mr. Oaf once had his own fanzine called Tender Is The Night, which like a lot of fanzines, was about lounge music, UFOs, Salvador Dali, test tone records, café reviews and fashion notes. It even had pictures on the cover and was a majestic four pages long. Tender Is The Night was made to be given away or sold at a nightclub called The Tender Trap, a kind of gentlemen’s reading room with lounge acts. Mr. Oaf imagined that the young people there would enjoy reading relevant articles pertinent to their lifestyles (and hence the relevant and, dare we say it, “hip” content) and thrill to reading informative pieces about 44khz test sine waves. Well, it seemed like a good idea. Sean O’Brien, who was the man-behind-the-curtain at the club, was all “yeah, that’s a good idea” and gave Mr. Oaf the thumbs up to publish the magazine. Flush with $25 from a blood donation, Mr. Oaf used the money to make 100 4-page copies of the magazine. Going to the club on the following Sunday night, Mr. Oaf handed out copies of the first edition to punters who were ogling the semi-nude Chinese transsexual plate twirler (it was that kind of place). Later, as he stood at the bar enjoying a dry martini, Mr. Oaf observed a man named Nick Meyers going around the club picking up copies of Tender Is The Night and throwing them in the garbage bin. Mr. Oaf was suspicious that although Nick Meyers was known to do things like that on a whim, he was also the stumbling, shambling Peter Lorre to O’Brien’s Sydney Greenstreet. In other words, he was just following orders, Quasimodo-style. Although Mr. Oaf had been working on an eight page second issue, he got such bad vibes from the crew at the Tender Trap that he shelved the whole venture. It was really expensive and they were ending up in the bin… What was he to do? This All Goes back To Some Weird Childhood Obsession One of Mr. Oaf’s favourite games, when he was 9 years old, was to make newspapers. The way the game worked was to get large sheets of paper that butcher’s used to wrap meat in and get a bunch of coloured pens. Then, with a copy of the Sydney Morning Herald, go through relevant articles and copy them out onto the sheets of paper. Although he was completely unaware of the legal issues of copyright and syndication licensing, his newspapers typically had a circulation of one. But it was a hell of an issue. Mr. Oaf Snr was roped into the project to provide the masthead which had to be drawn freehand in Gothic Copperplate. Once the masthead was done, page one (the only page) was divided randomly into rectangles and squares with either blue or pink Texta pen, the copy then filled in with black, blue or green Biros There were boxes for pictures, sometimes cut out of the real paper, or done stick-figure style for reference purposes only. The mix of news was quite eclectic – sometimes local news about swimming carnivals, fetes and pony rides were included - but normally the newspaper (which was called The Denistonian after the suburb of the Oaf family) - was a grab bag of sporting results, features about the Vietnam War, moon landings and political news. For some reason, it was always important to include weather forecasts. Did you see that episode of The Simpsons where Bart has to live with the Flanders family? In the story, Bart plays with Rod and Todd Flanders whose game is publish their own newspaper called The Flanders Family News or something. Anyway, Bart hands his mocked up page with the headline “TODD SMELLS!” to the Flanders kids who eye it with suspicion and ask Bart “What’s your source on this?” Bart collapses in a heap of disappointed incredulity. It’s quite shocking for Mr. Oaf to realise that he was Rod and Todd. Suddenly In The Grown Up World Skipping over Mr. Oaf’s stint as the publisher of Altair 4, Cumberland High School’s only in-house science fiction magazine (which, incidentally never got past issue one either) and his time as the co-editor of A↔RT magazine at City Art Institute, we find ourselves in a startlingly similar predicament as grown ups. Teddy advised Mr. Oaf not to get involved with hysterical designers who want to “publish their own magazines” but have little idea that it takes a lot of pens, pencils, sheets of butcher’s paper and a couple of hundred thousand dollars in advertising to make it actually happen. Would Mr. Oaf listen to Teddy? Of course not. He went to meetings, got enthusiastic, took on the job of editor, talked to people about doing stories, commissioned articles – then discovered that the publishers in fact had no money, no advertising, no sheets of paper and no pens – but they still want to “go ahead”. And what does “going ahead” mean? Waiting for them to call and tell him what they are going to do. Meanwhile, In the Kingdom Of The Bears “Have you seen this?” asked Teddy, a touch incredulous. “What’s that?” saidNesbitt putting down his cup of tea. “It’s The 13 1/2 Lives of Captain Bluebear by someone called Walter Moers… It purports to tell the story of a BlueBear” “Hmm,” said Nesbitt. “May I quote from Regina Schroeder of the American Library Association?” “Please do,” Nesbitt said, settling into his chair. “She writes… “A blue bear named Bluebear begins his adventures in Zamonia, which was once part of the lands humans know, when small enough to float in a walnut shell bobbing toward a hole in the sea. He is rescued by the Minipirates, who are so small that ordinary sea-goers have no inkling of their mastery of the sea. Eventually, he grows too large to remain with the Minipirates, who regretfully maroon him on an island. In his subsequent travels, he meets fabulous and exotic people, makes friends and loses them, and is aided by a mental copy of Professor Nightingale's Encyclopaedia, his graduation gift from the professor's school. His story is illustrated by a vast number of bizarre black-and-white drawings that complement the chatty, easy prose perfectly. Bluebear still has 13 lives to go at the conclusion of his narrative because all bluebears live 27 lives, and he keeps the bluebears' secret for their sake. The tone in which the book ends is pleasant, for all adventurers eventually learn to settle down.” Nesbitt sat up suddenly. “This is all extremely familiar,” he said. “This sounds all very familiar indeed…” “That’s what I thought!” “I wonder, do you suppose there is anything in there about this so-called Bluebear using the Apollo 13 LEM to scoop up chocolate sprinkles from the Hundreds and Thousands Constellation? Could there be included in this book an account of the time we discovered Strange Matter under my bed? And what of the time we went into the X-Dimension and discovered a reverse Universe?” “I don’t know,” said Teddy reaching for the telephone,”But I think I will begin a legal injunction immediately.” “Better to be safe than sorry,” agreed Nesbitt. bears in history - future bears 
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