A STRONGHOLD OF PROFESSIONAL ARTISTS, MUSICIANS, WRITERS, AND CERTIFIABLE A-1 LUNATIC GUERRILLA PROMOTERS OF OUR GREAT FROZEN TUNDRA. WE GOT WHAT YOU'RE LOOKIN FOR....

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FOR ALL LAWYERS AND CONCERNED CITIZENS

THE METHODS OF PERSUASION USED BY THE ISSUE ZERO MAGAZINE "STREET TEAM" ARE COMMITTED BY A FACTION OF OUR ADMINISTRATION, AND THOUGH WE SUPPORT THEM IN VOICE, THEIR ACTIONS ARE NOT OUR OWN.

OBJECTIVES SUCH AS:
1 STICKER PLACEMENT ON SOUGHT AFTER, GENRE AND STYLE-SPECIFIC PRODUCTS, I.E. CD'S, CLOTHING, BOOKS AND SIGNS,
2 USE OF STENCILS AND AEROSOL, INK,
3 POSTERS AND TICKET TAPING,
4 RAISING AWARENESS IN ANY FORM, AND IN ANY ELEMENT, OR MEDIA.

THESE ARE THE ACTIONS OF RENEGADE, GUERRILLA PROMOTIONS OFFICERS WHO RAISE OUR FLAG.

THX, MGMT

Monday, September 22, 2008

ISSUE ZERO: ChemicalRobotiks: I'm Not Trying To Die, I Promise

Thinking back on this weekend it's hard to believe I am even able to write this. You know when you think back on something you did, and all that keeps popping into your head is "why did I think this was a good idea" I am sure everyone has been there at least once in their life. This past weekend was no exception.

Friday Night:
Some friends and I find our selves on the rooftop of another friends house. As usual we are drinking so right there there should have been a red flag in my head like "hey asshole, its dark, you're drunk, and running around on a roof with untied shoes, do you really think this is such a great idea" Of course, that flag was never raised but the bar for stupidity sure was as we began jumping from roof to roof, drunk, at night. Not the brightest thing in the world but no one was hurt

Saturday:
I woke up at the crack of noon, feeling shitty, as I often do on Saturdays. I had plans that evening so it totally pissed me off to find that I had a head cold and felt sick as fuck. Rather than sitting this one out and taking a day off to recover I instead go to the convenience store, buy a bunch of cold pills(Dayquil Nyquil double pack)and start popping. As I wait for the meds to kick in a begin my trek to the house. half way through I am dizzy as fuck but there is no stopping at this point. I get to the house, try to be social, and chill out with some malt liquor. I take a few more of the cold pills because the other ones seemed to do nothing and 4-5 Zantac for my now over powering heartburn. An hour or two passes and I am now all over the place, but decide to try and sit still so no one notices how fucked I am. I remembered that Ursa Mega gave me a bunch of caffeine pills a few days before so I figure eating a bunch of those should straighten me out...nope. So in the end I must have taken 8 dayquil, 2 nyquil, 4-5 zantac, 4 caffeine pills, and all washed down with 80 oz of malt liquor, yum. Even typing this now I cant seem to understand how I thought this would fix my cold or how it could seem like a good idea. Fuck it

Effects of the pill and booze cocktail:
I couldnt think straight at all. I also couldnt form proper sentence and was sluring badly. I had very bad shakes through out my body and tunnel vison. I watched a woman talk and everything around her faded to black. There was no more depth and her hair was golden. Her voice sounded like buzzing noises and I had trouble making out what she was saying. she was outlines in light even though the room was dark. I had trouble with everything but started talking for some reason. I dont know what I was talking about but I could tell it was making her nervous. I stopped talking, left the room and laid on the couch until the sun came up, then I went home.

Was the weekend fun, yep. Were these all good decisions, not by a long shot. Next time I guess I'll think more

Monday, September 8, 2008

ISSUE ZERO MAGAZINE: URSA MEGA GOES TO BOX WAR!!!






There I was. It was about 6 in the morning of September 7th. In the Issue Zero Lair, drunk, and spray painting battle armor while Chemical Robotiks stood downwind and inhaled deeply. Affirmative Action Jackson and I had yet to paint our suits, and were running a bit late considering we were dur-runk as Hell from the liquor we "liberated" from the clutches of some fuckin art student dick-noses. Annnd from the 26 of Jin. And the other shit we drank. And we were gonna get no more than 6 hours of sleep.
That's What you get when you start partying at 11 at night. Robotiks got 4 hours, maybe. We got hammered, and passed out in that piece like a K-hole-ing 14 year old in a warehouse.
We showed up in the park while people arrived.
We walked from South Junction to Trinity Bellwoods in the rain. Hung the fuck over. Carrying
battle gear. What the hell am I doing didn't once float through my head.
I was too busy thinking about tearing ass through a crowd of Alien invaders, also in cardboard uniforms.
When we got there, it was pissing rain and trying to piss me off, but even a sleeping God knows you gotta have more than that to drag Us down. We got down to it. June Morrow of NOW Magazine and her camera-man showed up as promised and interviewed the lot of us. Plus Teddy Wilson, and his trusted camera man (a God damned tank in the field, straight up,) from the SPACE Channel shot great footage and also partook in the battle.

Those kick ass motherfuckers are putting our little exploit on the television and in the web.

That's right.
ISSUE ZERO AND IT'S AFFILIATES ARE GOING TO BE ON THE SPACE CHANNEL'S 'CIRCUIT' AT 7:30 THIS FRIDAY. YOU WILL BE THOROUGHLY ENTERTAINED.

WHILE YOU'RE SURFING THE NET, YOU CAN SEE THE SHIT-FIGHT ERUPTING ON NOW MAGAZINES NOW-TUBE AT THEIR SITE THIS THURSDAY.

I'll give you a little taste of what happened.

My buddy Chris came through with two Hieniken tallboys and got me a fat buzz.
SCDigital came with Carl, making us the three Voo Doo Priests, and filmed it all.

We got suited up, and kicked the Hell out of each other.
Or into.
One of the two.

What?
You want me to give away all the fun net surfing looking for our escapades?
I don't think so.

But, here are some pictures to gawk at.


ISSUE ZERO MAGAZINE IS BECOMING MORE AND MORE LOOSE.
THE ROPE LEASH IS FEATHERING, AND THE MUZZLE IS WEAKENING.
AND THE SECOND BATTLE IS COMING TOO SOON.
BUT NOT FUCKIN SOON ENOUGH FOR THE LIKES OF US.

OCTOBER 19, 2008.
SOMEWHERE IN THE DOWNTOWN CORE.
THERE, WITH NO WARNING, WE WILL STRIKE.
IT WILL BE FASTER, LOUDER, AND CRAZIER.
AND PROBABLY DRUNKER THAN EVER BEFORE.

BE THERE.
OR MISS IT LIKE YOU DID LAST TIME.
AND GET CALLED A BITCH, LIKE THE PUNK THAT BUSTED HIS FINGER REAL GOOD (LIKE, REEEAL GOOD) LAST TIME, AFTER ACTING LIKE A HARD ASS, WHINING LIKE A IDIOT THAT GETS HIS NUTS CUT OFF FROM PUTTING A RAZOR BLADE IN HIS UNDIES AND ROLLING DOWN A HILL, AND RUNNING LIKE A FUCK IT I'M DONE TALKING ABOUT THAT BRITTLE LITTLE DIDDLER.

OCTOBER 19.
BRING KNEE PADS.