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I’m pretty sure that most people are going to look at DIRECT YOUR OWN DAMN MOVIE! as unnecessary, given that Troma co-founder Lloyd Kaufman’s previous two books, ALL I NEED TO KNOW ABOUT FILMMAKING I LEARNED FROM THE TOXIC AVENGER and MAKE YOUR OWN DAMN MOVIE!, were all about every aspect of filmmaking for the low-budget crowd, all filtered through the hilariously twisted worldview of the elder statesmen of B movies.
And, sure, maybe it is. And, well … maybe it isn’t.
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I hated school. Hated it. I admittedly just did the bare minimum to get out of there, but, luckily enough, my bare minimum was at least a B+ average, so no one really noticed. I looked at school as a necessary evil and I played the game inside the hallowed halls, but focused most of my time on my non-sanctioned extracurricular activities, such as zine publishing or bootlegging videotapes. I also had quite the lucrative PLAYBOY resell franchise going on inside my backpack.
When I look back, I have to ask myself, why? Why did I feel that way? Was it because I felt like I had no connection with any of my classmates? Sure, we can say that. Was it because I felt bored all the time and completely unchallenged? OK, sounds good. Or what about the fact that I had no teachers who, well, inspired me? That’s probably the closest thing to the truth. Most of my teachers were, for lack of a better term, jerk-offs.
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With the exception of the regular cast of characters (Superman, Batman, Spider-Man, Hulk), the first real comic-book hero that I became a real geeky, I’m-better-than-you-because-you-don’t-know-who-this-is fan of was the bizarro cult icon Ambush Bug.
It was around 1985 and I was living in a small town in Texas called Blooming Grove. There was a small, mom-and-pop video store that sold stacks of comics — literal stacks, with no rhyme or reason — and because my dad was chief of police, they always gave use free rentals and, every Friday, free comics. My brother and I picked up the weirdest stuff, from THE OFFICIAL HANDBOOK OF THE MARVEL UNIVERSE: BOOK OF THE DEAD to the Jack Chick/fever-dream retelling of the Apocalypse in his CRUSADERS series. I even picked up a copy of a Mexican Spidey reprint where “El Hombre Araña” weds Mary Jane (Marijuana?), complete with pin-up poster.
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Being born in 1978, I feel such sadness for having to missed out on the best our mainstream culture had to offer in the late 1960s and 1970s: Satanism, Charles Manson, violent crime, and punk-rock sexploitation. Even if you weren’t lucky enough to take part in said diabolical dealings firsthand, at least you could read all about it — for the small price of 50 cents — in glorious, pulpy, black-and-white, all from the safe harbor that is your neighborhood grocery store checkout line.
That’s what the mind-numbingly fun BAD MAGS 2: THE STRANGEST, SLEAZIEST, AND MOST UNUSUAL PERIODICALS EVER PUBLISHED! is all about. (Even though I sadly missed out on the first book, I’m pretty sure that’s what BAD MAGS was about as well.) Author Tom Brinkmann picks an evil little topic, such as the aforementioned Manson, and proceeds to list and synopsizes every single rag that he’s ever been written about in, from LIFE to BILL DAKOTA’S HOLLYWOOD STAR CONFIDENTIAL.
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Since about … oh, let’s say, last November, I have become more and more of a believer in conspiracy theories. It can only explain the current state of the world. Be it aliens, time travelers or, most probably, an international cabal of bankers that runs the entire world’s monetary systems, it all starts to make sense. I guess I am a kook. But when the Apocalypse happens and the New World Order comes knocking on your door to force you to take a vaccine and confiscate your guns, I’ll be happily holed up in a secret forested compound waiting shit out. See you in hell, Bilderburg-funded Shadow Government!
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