OHNO!THEROBOT, a zine originally based out of Saskatoon, returns home with a self-published retrospective collection entitled The First Five Years. Celebrating six issues and six years of existence, the book compiles past OHNO! issues 6 through 10.
Written and compiled by Chris Morin, OHNO!THEROBOT – a perzine familiar to those in the local punk scene – features short vignettes of semi-autobiographical fiction as well as loosely-veiled memoirs of Saskatoon. Over the course of its run, OHNO! garnered many favourable reviews in publications such as Razorcake, Punk Planet and Maximum Rocknroll. Additionally, issue #6 was picked up for worldwide distribution by Tower Records, a now defunct American chain store.
Notwithstanding an oft-sketchy handle on grammar, Morin’s past writing holds its own. And despite a sporadic publishing schedule, The First Five Years actually resembles something of a mini-novel – a trend that originated with OHNO! #11, the only zine from the series still currently in print.
The book, published in a decidedly non-optimistic run of 40 issues, is available either though Morin directly or his website, which can be found at http://www.etsy.com/shop/ohnotherobot
Below is a snippet from The First Five Years:
I firmly believed that every farewell should be sealed with both a kiss and a final fuck you. A relationship ousted with a whimper was sadder than a slap in the face. Besides, crawling back after saying goodbye was ultimately more depressing than faux-farewells. This is why it’s always a good idea to turn down break-up sex, which had the slimy reputation as being the best kind of sex.
Overzealous goodbyes were another reason that I loved punkhouses. When they were deemed terminated, most of the city’s punkhouses simply went up in flames, a final middle finger salute to the cops, the landlord and the scene itself. It eventually became sort of a fucked up tradition – burn what you can’t carry with you to your next life. Tellingly, gentrification, the very thing that punks despised the most, would have the last laugh. In the ashes of the punkhouses, condos were erected, and the neighbours would breathe a sigh of relief.