By Megan Pants
Razorcake

My brother stayed with me for Thanksgiving this year. Over the course of the few days, we had a lot of discussions. He works with computers; I work with punk rock and education. We don’t always see eye to eye. At one point, he asked me why people even make zines anymore instead of just creating blogs or webpages. I gave him my typical spiel about how you can’t take a computer into the bathroom with you; he brought up laptops. I said you can just put a zine in your pocket, and he brought up the growing technology with PDAs and even cell phones for internet browsing. And then I brought out this issue of 28PLBWT. The stories are well-told and strong and enough to stand by themselves, but Christoph doesn’t leave it at that. It’s printed with black ink on an offset press, but then every issue is individually stamped, stenciled, screen printed, and stickered. The effort that goes into each copy (mine is #545 of 2458) is astounding and each one is actually quite a piece of art. As they’ve moved to a larger format, they were presented with an interesting dilemma when there were scraps to make the desired paper size. Instead of tossing them, they (very much like my mom with extra pie crust) used it to make another little treat, The Scrap Paper Review a.k.a. 28 Wee Pages Heartlessly Bound with Staples. Both zines come in a comic book jacket, and there’s even an addressed envelope for correspondence. Yes, for someone to write a letter to them. Not an email. Not a text message. Christoph understands what I was trying to communicate to my brother. There’s something in the homemade—in the handwritten letter, the mix tape with liner notes, and in 28PLBWT. I think it’s summed up in the fact that I don’t get excited when I have email, but when something comes in the mail, when someone made something just for me, I get happy. I get warm fuzzies. I feel special. And that’s what I get every time I get a copy of 28PLBWT. –Megan