Will Dockery
2004-07-11 16:42:56 UTC
ZINE REVIEWS
by holy joe
Dreamgirls with Shaman, No. 54, $1.00. Minicomic, 32 pages. Will
Dockery, [P.O.Box 7394, Columbus GA 31908].
Review: First, the truth. My review copy of Dreamgirls with
Shaman is only eight pages in length. However, Dockery has prepared
"for sale" copies that are 32 pages long. I misplaced the letter in
which he details exactly what these issues consist of, but they are the
issue reviewed (below) plus extra issues, all bundled into a generous
package of poems and comics.
Back in the early 1980's minicomic-maker Matt Feazell pioneered
the minicomic for a quarter' concept. A stamp cost 22 cents (never
mind the envelope), but somehow the whole thing could arrive in the
reader's hands for a quarter. Many of us, including myself, were
inspired to labor in this genre.
Then the price of a stamp rose to 25 cents. It became rather
difficult for a publisher like myself to sell an eight-page minicomic
for a quarter. Some minicomic publishers raised the price of their
minicomics to 50 cents. In doing so, they raised the page count of
their minicomics to 16 pages.
The tradition continues. Charging $1.00, Dockery is offering
his poetry and comics for the same price he would have charged you in
1983! 32 pages for $1.00, which works out to 25 cents for every eight
pages.
Dreamgirls with Shaman is a long-running title dating back to
the previous decade. Originally it was titled Shaman. There was a
separate title (by me) called Naughty Naked Dreamgirls. Eventually the
two merged. Now the two have parted company. For the moment the
hybrid-title remains, perhaps to adorn future issues, perhaps not.
Dreamgirls with Shaman is currently on an annual publication
schedule. This is the new issue. It is for the year 1997 but, since
Dockery never made an issue in 1996, it could be considered the 1996
issue, although the art and poems in it didn't actually exist in 1996.
Perhaps later Dockery will put out an official 1996 issue containing art
and poems that couldn't exist in 1996, because they were created in
1997.
Such is the way of small press publishing. The cover of this
issue of Shaman (with Dreamgirls) features Dockery's bizarre art on the
cover. Worrisomely close to Florida, home of Mike Diana, there resides
a whole school of bizarro' artists. Will Dockery, Dan Barfield, P.D.
Wilson, Carol Horn, and others. This loosely-knit community of artists
is as odd in geography as it is in its artistic visions. It spans the
state line that divides Georgia from Alabama, populating both states
and, often, both states at once in the same day. It produces such
oddball gems as the current cover of Shaman.
Here, on the cover, we see a beak-faced man. He wears a hat
but no pants. He has a visible pair of testicles and he appears to be
directing a host of girls with a baton-sized penis. The girls, as they
dance, with cunts and breasts on display, sprinkle dollar bills, hearts,
and peace signs across the cover. Above this weird male/female
assemblage loom two heads. Each head contains only one eye but two
pairs of lips. Certainly this is a cover worth the notice of a Florida
district attorney. Perhaps this $1.00 comic can spawn a $100,000 trial.
Meantime, Dockery will eagerly accept your dollar. Currently
he's down on his luck. He'd be homeless, but an absent in-law has
(perhaps unwittingly) permitted him to live in a vacant mansion in a
yuppified section of town. Despite the wealth of Dockery's
surroundings, the mansion he's living in has no electricity. The water
has also been cut off. Hence, the grounds of the mansion have become
Dockery's toilet. I asked him recently in a (self-funded) telephone
call how he managed to relieve himself.
me: I suppose you don't just hold it?
dockery: No. I let it out just like everybody else does.
me: How?
dockery: Well, to pee, you just go out back and pee.
me: How about to poop?
dockery: For that, you dig a hole. Then you poop into the
hole and cover it up.
Dockery has learned to cook food over a fire, in the fireplace
of the mansion. This, I admit, sounded pretty great, living by
firelight and candlelight in a mansion, eating food cooked over a fire.
Wouldn't you know, of course, Dockery even has a girlfriend to keep him
company in such circumstances. And, together, they make art.
I was quite impressed by this issue. The poems were quite
well-written, in my opinion. Here's a sampling:
From Dan Barfield:
"The earth runs
through my veins
Deep and black
ancient memories
ancient magic
...I am the reason
you fear the darkness
I am
the darkness"
From Lisa Scarboro:
"Words shared
among friends
...voice after
voice echoes
like feelings"
From Rick Duffey:
"There's a spider in our warehouse somewhere
who keeps making webs
in all the worst places & she does this
overnight
webs of immense size
bigger than pillow cases
big enough to capture chess pieces
they only appear after five in the evening
& eight the next morning, punched in,
when we've got sleep under our lids
& sip at the cooled edges of
styrofoam coffee we always discover them.
We've never seen this spider in person
but opinions abound
it's a big one says Mike...
& she's red with yellow stripes--her name is
probably Amanda
(I say)
she tells fortunes to the other spiders
her name means worthy of being loved'
her bite is poisonous with no puncture marks
she seeks out the crevasses of skin
attracted by the warmth
of your body
scratch an itch there
only if you must"
On the back page of this minicomic I was delighted to see new
comix by John Jones. He's been drawing his Retros comix for years. At
first I was fairly dismissive of them (back in the 80's). But like fine
wine they have grown on me. I have a deep appreciation for them now,
perhaps born of their intrinsic merit, perhaps born of nostalgia. Can
one ever be sure about such things? I feel nostalgia for Gilligan's
Island too.
Will Dockery produces a similar line of comix (not present in
this issue), titled Demon House Theatre. Suddenly I find myself
wondering, with regard to Dockery's comics, and Jones', and even
Wilson's and Horn's, "Has all their work been saved?" "Is there some
way it could be collected and displayed?"
Once you develop an appreciation for what they are creating it
becomes quite addictive. It's strange art, visual poetry, really, for
it makes no sense' to the DC and Marvel-trained eye. But once you let
go of your preconceptions of what art should' and, indeed, must' be,
you find yourself in a new realm. Their art is unique; a strange blend
of human, mystical, and even superheroic creatures. And, like I said,
there is a whole school of them, all cross-pollinating each other, all
living in the same locale.
And all dangerously close to Disneyfied Florida.
AND IN THE END...
by holy joe
Dreamgirls with Shaman, No. 54, $1.00. Minicomic, 32 pages. Will
Dockery, [P.O.Box 7394, Columbus GA 31908].
Review: First, the truth. My review copy of Dreamgirls with
Shaman is only eight pages in length. However, Dockery has prepared
"for sale" copies that are 32 pages long. I misplaced the letter in
which he details exactly what these issues consist of, but they are the
issue reviewed (below) plus extra issues, all bundled into a generous
package of poems and comics.
Back in the early 1980's minicomic-maker Matt Feazell pioneered
the minicomic for a quarter' concept. A stamp cost 22 cents (never
mind the envelope), but somehow the whole thing could arrive in the
reader's hands for a quarter. Many of us, including myself, were
inspired to labor in this genre.
Then the price of a stamp rose to 25 cents. It became rather
difficult for a publisher like myself to sell an eight-page minicomic
for a quarter. Some minicomic publishers raised the price of their
minicomics to 50 cents. In doing so, they raised the page count of
their minicomics to 16 pages.
The tradition continues. Charging $1.00, Dockery is offering
his poetry and comics for the same price he would have charged you in
1983! 32 pages for $1.00, which works out to 25 cents for every eight
pages.
Dreamgirls with Shaman is a long-running title dating back to
the previous decade. Originally it was titled Shaman. There was a
separate title (by me) called Naughty Naked Dreamgirls. Eventually the
two merged. Now the two have parted company. For the moment the
hybrid-title remains, perhaps to adorn future issues, perhaps not.
Dreamgirls with Shaman is currently on an annual publication
schedule. This is the new issue. It is for the year 1997 but, since
Dockery never made an issue in 1996, it could be considered the 1996
issue, although the art and poems in it didn't actually exist in 1996.
Perhaps later Dockery will put out an official 1996 issue containing art
and poems that couldn't exist in 1996, because they were created in
1997.
Such is the way of small press publishing. The cover of this
issue of Shaman (with Dreamgirls) features Dockery's bizarre art on the
cover. Worrisomely close to Florida, home of Mike Diana, there resides
a whole school of bizarro' artists. Will Dockery, Dan Barfield, P.D.
Wilson, Carol Horn, and others. This loosely-knit community of artists
is as odd in geography as it is in its artistic visions. It spans the
state line that divides Georgia from Alabama, populating both states
and, often, both states at once in the same day. It produces such
oddball gems as the current cover of Shaman.
Here, on the cover, we see a beak-faced man. He wears a hat
but no pants. He has a visible pair of testicles and he appears to be
directing a host of girls with a baton-sized penis. The girls, as they
dance, with cunts and breasts on display, sprinkle dollar bills, hearts,
and peace signs across the cover. Above this weird male/female
assemblage loom two heads. Each head contains only one eye but two
pairs of lips. Certainly this is a cover worth the notice of a Florida
district attorney. Perhaps this $1.00 comic can spawn a $100,000 trial.
Meantime, Dockery will eagerly accept your dollar. Currently
he's down on his luck. He'd be homeless, but an absent in-law has
(perhaps unwittingly) permitted him to live in a vacant mansion in a
yuppified section of town. Despite the wealth of Dockery's
surroundings, the mansion he's living in has no electricity. The water
has also been cut off. Hence, the grounds of the mansion have become
Dockery's toilet. I asked him recently in a (self-funded) telephone
call how he managed to relieve himself.
me: I suppose you don't just hold it?
dockery: No. I let it out just like everybody else does.
me: How?
dockery: Well, to pee, you just go out back and pee.
me: How about to poop?
dockery: For that, you dig a hole. Then you poop into the
hole and cover it up.
Dockery has learned to cook food over a fire, in the fireplace
of the mansion. This, I admit, sounded pretty great, living by
firelight and candlelight in a mansion, eating food cooked over a fire.
Wouldn't you know, of course, Dockery even has a girlfriend to keep him
company in such circumstances. And, together, they make art.
I was quite impressed by this issue. The poems were quite
well-written, in my opinion. Here's a sampling:
From Dan Barfield:
"The earth runs
through my veins
Deep and black
ancient memories
ancient magic
...I am the reason
you fear the darkness
I am
the darkness"
From Lisa Scarboro:
"Words shared
among friends
...voice after
voice echoes
like feelings"
From Rick Duffey:
"There's a spider in our warehouse somewhere
who keeps making webs
in all the worst places & she does this
overnight
webs of immense size
bigger than pillow cases
big enough to capture chess pieces
they only appear after five in the evening
& eight the next morning, punched in,
when we've got sleep under our lids
& sip at the cooled edges of
styrofoam coffee we always discover them.
We've never seen this spider in person
but opinions abound
it's a big one says Mike...
& she's red with yellow stripes--her name is
probably Amanda
(I say)
she tells fortunes to the other spiders
her name means worthy of being loved'
her bite is poisonous with no puncture marks
she seeks out the crevasses of skin
attracted by the warmth
of your body
scratch an itch there
only if you must"
On the back page of this minicomic I was delighted to see new
comix by John Jones. He's been drawing his Retros comix for years. At
first I was fairly dismissive of them (back in the 80's). But like fine
wine they have grown on me. I have a deep appreciation for them now,
perhaps born of their intrinsic merit, perhaps born of nostalgia. Can
one ever be sure about such things? I feel nostalgia for Gilligan's
Island too.
Will Dockery produces a similar line of comix (not present in
this issue), titled Demon House Theatre. Suddenly I find myself
wondering, with regard to Dockery's comics, and Jones', and even
Wilson's and Horn's, "Has all their work been saved?" "Is there some
way it could be collected and displayed?"
Once you develop an appreciation for what they are creating it
becomes quite addictive. It's strange art, visual poetry, really, for
it makes no sense' to the DC and Marvel-trained eye. But once you let
go of your preconceptions of what art should' and, indeed, must' be,
you find yourself in a new realm. Their art is unique; a strange blend
of human, mystical, and even superheroic creatures. And, like I said,
there is a whole school of them, all cross-pollinating each other, all
living in the same locale.
And all dangerously close to Disneyfied Florida.
AND IN THE END...