Andrew Roller Presents
C O M I C  U P D A T E
FREE!    Internet Edition    May 12, 1995

R E V I E W S
by Andrew Roller

         Topical Studies #10, $2.00.  Digest, text with illustrations.  Rick 
Howe, 1302 22nd Street, Apartment A, Columbus, GA 31901.
         Rick Howe publishes little booklets for unborn librarians and Ph.d. 
candidates.  The reason I say this is because I think his Topical 
Studies zine (his most recent circular), will be a highly prized small 
press item in 100 years or so.  Real thoughts by a real person (a fast 
food fry cook), conscientiously presented.  This is the sort of 
Americana that historians really appreciate.  Plus in his latest issue 
Rick confesses to raping a minor (pg. 28), so even the purely prurient 
among you should want a copy.  
         I will wind up leaving Topical Studies #10 at the bus stop, 
however, as I am (annoyingly) not mentioned in this issue (again).  Did 
you know that bus stops make great display places for your zines?  The 
bus stops around here have a strip of metal along the base of the 
bench's back.  (The side of the bench back which faces toward you as 
you sit down on it, of course.)  I can slip the bottom of a zine into the 
metal strip.  This allows the zine to stand up, and it keeps it from 
blowing away.  I find it very interesting to place a zine out at the bus 
stop and see how long it remains there before someone picks it up and 
carries it off.  Some zines wind up on the grass and lay there for days.  
Even the bums don't want them.  I would say that the homemade-comics 
zines are very poorly received, while music and movie titles seem to go 
quite quickly.  
         As you can see I am once again equipped with a computer.  A word 
to the destitute:  there is a major department store in your area that 
will (foolishly) loan you tons of money to buy the name brand products 
in their store.  Yes, you too can afford a computer.  There is no excuse 
to publish crap that looks like Self Publisher! anymore.
         A postscript:  I wrote the above about nine months ago, although 
it had not been published until today.  Rick Howe has since come out 
with another Topical Studies, his most outstanding issue yet.  I have 
also been doing more research out at the bus stop.  I placed some small 
press material out there recently, along with some professionally 
produced newsletters by the nationally known Joe Bob Briggs (reviewed 
in the May 10th Update).  You know what?  The small press material 
(xeroxed home-made comics) got picked up, while Joe Bob languished, 
eventually winding up ignominiously underneath and behind the bench.  
No doubt he was eventually picked up...by an illiterate Mexican 
gardener-dude tossing him into the trash.

         Sam and Marty #0, $1.50.  Odd-sized, large comic.  Paul Quinn, 80 
Hamilton Street, Unit 4, Waterdown, Ontario, CANADA LOR 2H6.
         Review:  ÒOh, Zack!!  I want to feel your hot breath apon (sic) my 
bosom!!!Ó cries Samantha Saphire (pg. 8).  (This is one of the comics 
that got picked up very quickly when I left it out at the bus stop.)  
Samantha is being courted by a vampire in this issue, one Marty Bishop, 
of whom we are told, ÒItÕs been eight hundred and twenty-seven years 
since heÕs said or heard the words, ÒI love you (pg. 1).Ó  (When he last 
got laid is anyoneÕs guess).  
         Although I couldnÕt quite bring myself to read the story, the 
artwork is good for a small press comic.  The ladies are well drawn and 
their bosoms vividly portrayed, both with and without bras.  Paul seems 
to go in for the weight-lifter type in women.  His men always seem 
dwarfed by their female lovers.  Perhaps this is in the R. Crumb 
tradition, IÕm not sure, as IÕm a little too young to be properly aware of 
CrumbÕs work and my only small press source in this matter is now 
dead.
         The black areas in this zine are excellent, not washed out, as 
often happens in xeroxed zines.  Blacks are used with dramatic effect 
in the portrayal of SamanthaÕs lacy black bra, and in a starry-night 
graveyard scene, dominated by a black-cloaked Darth Vader dude.  This 
is a nicely drawn comic, an excellent buy if you want to get a good 
picture of what a Òsmall press comicÓ looks like.

C O M I C  U P D A T E  S T O R I E S
The Fading Universe
Part Two
by Andrew Roller

Chapter Two

         Marvin blinked the sleep from his eyes and was about to suppress 
a yawn with his hand when he discovered that his wrists were bound 
behind his back.
         "Damn!  I'm a sex slave," Marvin said.
         Elsa came into focus.  She was lying several feet from Marvin, her 
wrists and ankles bound with rope.
         "Wait a fuckin' minute!  Don't tell me I'm Frankie's sex slave!"  
Marvin yelled.
         Marvin's shout was greeted with laughter.  Suddenly he noticed 
dozens of absinthe eyes peering down at him.  Marvin rolled from his 
side onto his back.
         "Oh. Hullo," Marvin said calmly to the mutants who were crowded 
around him, as an icy chill ran down his spine.
         A desperate cry pierced the air.  Marvin could make out Perry's 
voice screaming for mercy.
         "They're castrating him!" Elsa shrieked to Marvin.
         "No!" Marvin yelled, sitting bolt upright, wrestling with his bonds.  
Strong hands seized him, thrust him back onto the dirt.  In a rage of 
blind fury, Marvin struggled against the mutants, twisting to and fro, 
but they held him fast.
         "Ha!  Ha!  Ha!  You're next," they jeered.  Marvin's eyes gaped wide 
as Perry's bloodcurdling screams shattered the silence of the tunnels.  
Perspiration streaked his brow and blurred his vision.  The mutant's 
stinking breath filled his nostrils.  Marvin gave a violent kick and one 
of the mutants toppled backward with a gasp.  Suddenly a sharp pain 
blazed through Marvin's skull and his world went pitch black.

###

         Marvin felt a wetness between his legs.  He wrenched himself 
upright as a vision of a bloody crotch shot through his mind.  He looked 
down to find Elsa licking his testicles with her tongue.  She glanced up 
at him.
         "You nearly lost these.  I figure I'd better appreciate them while I 
can," Elsa said.
         Marvin's memory of the leering mutants, with their shrunken 
heads, rippling membranous gills, and massive forearms, faded upon a 
bare cinderblock prison cell.
         Footsteps came echoing down the hall.  Elsa hurriedly zipped up 
Marvin's trousers, whispering, "We're in the city slammer.  The cops 
who were sent out after us found us just as the mutants were 
castrating Perry."
         "Then he's O.K.?"
         "No.  He's lost his testicles."
         Marvin gasped.
         A police sergeant appeared outside the prison door.
         "Well, I see you finally woke up," the sergeant said to Marvin.  "I 
guess you could say the city cops saved your balls, boy.  Saved 'em for 
the electric chair.  Too bad about your leader, though.  That's what you 
get when you double-cross the mutants."
         The sergeant chuckled and was about to continue when a blast of 
mortar fire rumbled through the prison.  For a moment the sergeant 
stood stock still, then he regained his composure and said, "Hear that?  
We got a war on our hands, folks.  Some damn army who I never even 
heard of before is attacking the city.  But don't you worry, we'll have 
everything under control shortly.  So if you've got any thoughts of 
escapin', forget it.  And don't try creating a disturbance either, or I'll 
shoot the lot of you."
         With that the sergeant turned and hurried off.  Marvin looked 
quizzically at Elsa.
         "A lot has happened since we struck camp last night," she said.
         "I'll say," Marvin replied.  "I can understand mutants sneaking up 
on us while we were sleeping.  They've been after us ever since Perry 
pulled a fast one on them seven months ago.  But what's this about a 
war?  Has San Diego attacked again?"
         "Not San Diego.  Some city no one ever knew existed, named 
Alameda, from far, far away.  But that's not the worst of it.  The 
insects have finally attacked."
         The insects.  Desert beetles.  Cockroaches, really, except they fed 
on human flesh.  Periodically the city would be attacked by hordes of 
mindless beetles, swarming up from distant corridors in a seasonal 
migration toward some unknown destination.  The city's police would 
don polyurethane suits, masks, and cylindrical tanks with hoses to 
fight off the ravenous beetles with poison gas.
         "The Alameda army attacked the city early this morning," Elsa 
continued.  "Within an hour or two they had captured the suburbs.  They 
were making rapid progress toward the city's center when, suddenly, 
the insects attacked."
         "I'll bet that surprised them.  Do they have insects in that place, 
whatever it's called, Amalthea?"  Marvin asked.
         "Alameda.  The story is Alameda's insects don't eat people.  These 
beetles caught the Alameda army totally unawares."
         "Good for them," Marvin chuckled.
         "Now the Alameda army is trapped inside the city, with the cops 
before them and the insects at their backs," Elsa concluded.
         "Sounds pretty hairy, huh, Marv?"  Flaherty asked, his words 
obscured slightly by a mouthful of potato chips.  "This prison is 
probably the safest place we could be right now."
         Frankie and Harrigan exchanged glances, their eyes drifting down 
toward each other's genitals.
         "Where's Perry right now?"  Marvin asked Elsa.
         "The prison hospital."
         Marvin was about to inquire into Perry's prospects for recovery 
when shouting erupted at the far end of the hall.  Marvin walked over to 
the door of the cell and peered out.  Apparently something had thrown 
the policemen on duty into turmoil.  Marvin strained to catch what they 
were saying but he couldn't make it out.
         Marvin had just gone and sat down again beside Elsa when the 
police sergeant appeared outside their cell.
         "Well, son, you're not going to be electrocuted," he said to Marvin.  
The policeman was obviously intent on saying something to Marvin, but 
instead of continuing he looked distractedly up and down the hallway, 
fingering his cap all the while, which he held in his pudgy hands.  He 
shouted to a partner running through the offices at the end of the hall, 
but failed to catch the man's attention.  Finally he said, "The mayor 
betrayed the city.  All of our poison gas has been rendered impotent.  
You lousy bastards are going to get devoured by the beetles!"  The 
sergeant let out a manic laugh.  Marvin jumped up and lunged at the 
door.  He seized the prison bars and shook them.
         "You gotta let us out!"  Marvin yelled.
         The policeman tossed a pocket-size portable television into the 
cell.
         "Here, you can watch the latest reports on your impending doom," 
the sergeant said.  With that he scurried off down the hall, leaving 
Marvin to shout after his retreating footsteps.
         Elsa turned on the television.
         "It's reported that the mayor made a plot with San Diego several 
months ago," an announcer intoned.  "The Chief of Police says he saw 
the mayor leave the city as soon as it was learned that the insects 
were attacking.  Chief Pallock told Newsvision that he attempted to 
stop the mayor but was unsuccessful."
         "A bug!"  Flaherty screamed.  He leapt up, spilling his potato chips, 
as a lone cockroach scurried across the prison floor.
         "Stomp on it!"  Frankie yelled.
         Flaherty shrank fearfully against the wall of the cell as Frankie 
and Harrigan bombarded the cockroach with a flurry of footstomps.
         "We gotta get out of here," Marvin said worriedly.

ATTENTION!!!    ATTENTION!!!    ATTENTION!!!
by ian shires
This is to announce the very first issue on computer of my famous Self 
Publisher! newspaper.  There will be a duty of every of every small presser 
to support this zine, because I intend to review EVERYONE when I get 
around to it and because I want to be rich and famuos some day and will be 
working as the head of Marvel comics or better yet...as the head of the 
international DIMESTORE company with low-priced comics designed to 
serve the pocektbooks of even the poorest readers at only $5.95 each.
         Now there is a very simple, easy way for you to support this zine:
SEND ME ADS!!!!  for only $8.00 I will type your ad into this internet zine.  
THis will be the cost of a full-page ad.  I will make sure it takes up a 
whole ÒpageÓ in my zine and people will have to scroll through it in order 
to get to the great, juicy reviews that lie beyond.  So send me money 
TODAY to make this happen for you in your life and for your publishing 
company.
         Now there must be guidelines regarding these ads because you know 
we have some people in our small press who might try to get away with 
something, known as ANDREW ROLLER!  You never know what he might try 
to advertise, or more specifically HOW he might try to advertise it.
NO NUDITY!!!  No lining up those little dots and commas and shit in order to 
create a nude woman!!!  (or someone younger!)  Also,
NO SWEAR WORDS!!  This includes printing ÒnormalÓ words in an offensive 
manner, such as ÒNAKED CHILDREN!Ó  This will not be allowed in my 
publication, and for good reason, because we all remember in 1987 when 
Roller was visited by the F.B.I.!
         I have struggled mightily to bring you the verry best in small press 
news, reviews and entertainment, publishing at least once every other 
year since 1986, this despite my lifelong affliction with dyslexia.  This 
despite the fact that when I am earning a million dollars at Marvel 
someday they will hand me my check and it will look to me as if it reads
000000000.1¢
         How I have suffered to continue on with this great tradition of self-
publishing.  My wife left me, my basement office flooded, and my parents 
forced me to move out of the house!  Yet I have toiled on, to bring you the 
very finest publication known to man and woman.  SEND YOUR MONEY RIGHT 
AWAY!  
         Ian Shires, President, Chairman, CEO--DIMESTORE STORIES

# # #

         Marvin sat musing.  Elsa sat next to him, hunched over, watching 
the television as it went through an endless litany of repeating news 
clips.  Nearby Frankie and Harrigan stood guard against the occasional 
cockroach that appeared inside their prison cell.  Flaherty crouched in a 
corner, whining fearfully about the insects; interrupting that 
monologue to complain about the absence of their evening meal.
         Marvin used to carry a book around with him that he would use to 
start fires.  He would tear out several pages and use them to kindle the 
fledgling flame.  A few times he made an effort to read the remaining 
pages when he was bored and had nothing to do.  He told Elsa about what 
he had read once or twice, but she dismissed it as utter nonsense.
         The book claimed that man once lived on a ball of dirt that floated 
in nothingness.  Instead of an elaborate network of corridors, the 
universe was said to be nearly empty, with only an occasional planet or 
star to be found.  Even Marvin couldn't buy that.  He knew that the stars 
were like furnaces in a house, and any planet like a cellar coal bin.  The 
idea that there were once furnaces and coal bins floating around in 
emptiness without the house was ludicrous.
         Of course, there had been a war, and much of the "house" still lay 
in darkness.  Here and there a city had constituted itself amidst the 
corridors, its citizens clustering around the bright blaze of its 
restored electrical supply.  Ontario, the city of Marvin's birth, and the 
city which now held him prisoner, was a tumultuous place, torn by civil 
strife.  The Oligarchy which had held Ontario in a tight grip for decades 
was rapidly losing ground to the restless, impoverished masses.  
Everyone agreed that what was needed was a strong leader who could 
reunite the people and restore Ontario's past glory; when it had held 
San Diego as a subject state.
         Marvin's reverie was interrupted by the noise of a crowd breaking 
into the offices at the end of the hall.  A mob of people came down the 
corridor, unlocking the prison cells as they went.
         "Run, friends," a man shouted as he freed Marvin and the others.

NEXT:  Corpse Catharsis

h o l y  j o e  O N  T H E  L A W
Third Party Beneficiary Contracts

         Let us say that I am a bachelor living in a house by myself, and a 
pervert.  (I thought this was a given, but since some people in the small 
press can't tell the difference between a paid for ad and a paid for 
subscription, it bears repeating.)  Across from me is the farm of 
Farmer Shires.  Shires, being a moral man, but not excessively moral, 
decides he can make more money from his cornfield if he turns it into a 
drive-in, outdoor adult movie theatre.  
         Shires contracts with the Corrigan Construction Company to build 
him an outdoor adult theatre.  I discover that, when the theatre is built, 
I will have a clear, unrestricted view of the movie screen from my 
bedroom window.  This is a benefit to me.
         Corrigan fails to build the adult theatre.  Can I sue Corrigan for 
the loss I have suffered?

         HOLY, C.J. (gives the answer):  There are three types of third party 
beneficiaries in THE LAW.  There is the "creditor beneficiary," the 
"donee beneficiary," and the "incidental beneficiary."
   
         First, there is the "creditor beneficiary."  I owe William Dockery 
$300.00.  On my way to pay the debt to William, I bump into Ian Shires.
         Ian:  "I have a hot date tonight, but I am broke.  However, I get 
paid tomorrow morning.  May I borrow some money to take out my 
girlfriend?"
         Me:  "Well, I was just on my way to pay William this $300.00 that 
I owe him.  However, I will give you the use of it, if you promise to pay 
$300.00 to William tomorrow (for me)."
         Ian agrees, and has a wonderful date.  However, when tomorrow 
comes he fails to pay William the $300.00  May William sue Ian for the 
$300.00?
         Yes!  In this situation William is known as a "creditor 
beneficiary."  Even though he had nothing to do with the contract 
between myself and Ian, he may nonetheless sue Ian for the $300.00 
(that I myself owed to William).

         The next sort of beneficiary is the "donee beneficiary."  I buy a 
Life Insurance policy from the Gay Men's Life Insurance Company.  I tell 
them, "If I die, pay the proceeds of this policy to one Lynn Hansen."  I 
subsequently die.  The Gay Men's Life Insurance Company refuses to pay 
out the proceeds of the policy, saying that I masturbated myself to 
death.  May Lynn sue the Insurance Company?
         Yes!  In this situation Lynn is known as a "donee beneficiary."  
Even though he had nothing to do with the contract between myself and 
the Insurance Company (assume, for instance, that he didn't even find 
out about the policy until after I died), he may nonetheless sue the 
Company for the proceeds of the policy.

         Now let us consider the "incidental beneficiary."  It is purely 
incidental that I would have benefited from the adult movie theatre.  
Farmer Shires has no control over who lives across the street from 
him.  Anyone could have lived across the street from him.  The contract 
between Farmer Shires and Corrigan was never made with me in mind.  
Hence, I am merely an "incidental beneficiary" of the contract between 
Corrigan and Farmer Shires.  If I sue Corrigan for not building the 
theatre, I will lose.

         HOLMES, CARDOZO, and ROLLER concur.  WILSON was in the 
bathroom and did not participate.

NOTE:  The premier issue of Comic Update is posted on 
alt.comics.alternative.  It is the issue for May 10th.  It consists of 
three parts:  COMIC UPDATE (Part One), COMIC UPDATE (PART TWO), and 
COMIC UPDATE (PART THREE OF THREE).
         The second issue of Comic Update is posted on 
rec.arts.comics.alternative, otherwise known as Alternative (non-
mainstream) comic books.  This second issue bears the subject heading 
of: Comic Update, May 11, 1995 (Matt Feazell, Wilson the Bum).

ROLLER PUBLICATIONS  Founded 1972.  Continuously publishing since 
1986.  Send a stamped, self-addressed return envelope (preferably a 
greeting card-type envelope) to us for the latest FREE hardcopy issues.  
(Including material never seen on the Internet!)  
         Or send $1.00 cash and we will supply the envelope.  Order from:  
Jim Corrigan, P.O. Box 3663, Phenix City, AL 36868.  
         Send comix, news, letters, and poems to Jim Corrigan.  
         Our titles:
         COMIC UPDATE  The latest small press comix news and reviews.
         NAUGHTY NAKED DREAMGIRLS  Sex kittens in compromising 
positions.  (Include an age statement-18 or over.)
         DREAMGIRLS WITH SHAMAN  America's most popular poetry zine.  
ALL poets are urged to contribute frequently!
         THE ORATOR  Militant views by misguided mortals.

END OF TRANSMISSION

Subj:  Comic Update, May 12, 1995  (Rick Howe, Paul Quinn)