click on pictures to go to website

lightning strikes
cathy monetti
Lightning strikes
Illuminating the silent darkness
And thunder rolls across this flat, dry land.
The rain begins. Softly, quietly.
Tip tap, tip tap, tip tap until
its erotic dance crescendos, and the cadence
becomes loud and distinguishable. Lightning strikes again.
The pooling water quenches not
But boils, its steam lifting slowly toward the dark sky in a driving rain that
Cannot pull it back to the earth.
The fire rages on.
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son of a gun
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CONCEPT: DIANE BROWN ILLUSTRATION: DARNELL BROWN
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a friend’s perspective
cathy monetti
To experience the full gallery, click on the photo above.
STEVE’S RANT #34765-A
I’m from Cleveland, the rust belt of all rust belt cities.
Yeah, I know what you’re thinking already: “This poor guy.
What a place to grow up.” Actually, though, it’s a great
place to grow up. Tons of ethnic diversity and fabulous
food from all the different pockets of communities surrounding downtown, not to mention the heavily supported
arts community including a world-class orchestra and art
museum. And everyone already knows about Cleveland
being the heart of rock and roll — yada yada yada.
Nice place.
Another thing you need to know about Cleveland is its
rich history in sports. Although we haven’t won a major
championship in anything since like 1964, people there
are very passionate about whatever team they support.
Believe me, we’ve had our share of heartache, and never
(continued)
PHOTOGRAPHY: TIM BURKE “SELECTED DISGUSTANCES”
The subtle and the profound. It’s there in the photography of Julie Williams Dixon, writer and
filmmaker, childhood friend, and one among us: the Wise Women. Her photo essay “Empty Chairs”
moved me and I believe it will you, as well.
from the gut
amanda drinkall
Godwin’s Creole Seasoning
INGREDIENTS:
2 tablespoons paprika
Combine all ingredients thoroughly.
2 tablespoons salt
Store in airtight jar or container.
2 tablespoons garlic powder
1 tablespoon black pepper
Yield: about 2/3 cup
1 tablespoon onion powder
1 tablespoon cayenne pepper
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1 tablespoon dried leaf oregano
1 tablespoon dried thyme
I know there’s lots of inspiring stuff going on in the
world around me. For some reason, though, my mind’s
been focused on something slightly closer to home.
My belly grows, my back hurts, my appetite changes...
forgotten who dealt it to us. RED RIGHT 88 - Oakland Raiders.
THE DRIVE - John Elway. THE FUMBLE - Ernest Byner. THE
SHOT - Michael Jordan. The Indians losing in the bottom of the
9th in game seven of the ‘97 World Series. Need I go on? –Cleveland sports fans do, somehow, and we always will.
it’s impossible not to take notice of all that’s happening
to me. But when I think about what’s happening in me,
what all this is for, I get goosebumps to go with my
swollen ankles.
Which brings me to my point. I have lived here in Columbia since
April. And, coming here, I knew I was going to be starved for
sports coverage of my favorite teams. But sheesh! Everywhere you
look or listen it’s all about THE FREAKIN’ GAMECOCKS. Every
station, both radio and TV. Stickers on cars. Sweaters on dogs.
I even saw Steve Spurrier wine at Publix the other day.
My husband Luke and I have loved cooking
together since we met. And now, strange as it
may sound to some of our non-cooking friends,
we participate in not one but TWO Supper Clubs.
We’re always up for sharing a nice meal with
good company. In our kitchen right now you’ll
find the latest issues of Southern Living and Bon
Appétit, our two favorite culinary mags, alongside
updated appliances for our ‘20s-era home, a
computer for viewing recipes at epicurious.com,
utensils galore and a brand new spice rack with
everything Emeril insists on.
Open any issue of The State—every other page has something
about the Cocks. Aren’t there more important issues—ANY
issues—people should be informed on? If you watch the sports
coverage on the local news, you’ll see five straight minutes on
USC football and 30 seconds on everything else.
You would not believe how much basil we go
through. We’re actually planning an herb garden
for next year, just to keep up with the demand!
Luke and I are constantly looking forward to
our next supper club get-togethers. It’s a lot of
fun, and so addictive. If you’re the type who,
like us, has ever recorded an episode from the
Food Network while running to the store for
more Étouffée ingredients, you really should ask
around about groups in your area. There’s always
something new to try.
Our plan for this week: a braised pork roast,
stuffed with apples, sausage and walnuts, with a
side of mashed potatoes made from scratch and
capped off with homemade pumpkin cheesecake
for dessert. Sound good?
Now let’s talk about the fans. The Cocks were supposed to suck
this year. That’s okay; you know that going in. I’ve been there.
From what I can tell, though, they seem to be playing pretty well
against some really tough competition. Now, most fans would take
that with a grain of salt and be happy that they’re showing up for
every game and being competitive. But no — a few losses go by,
(continued)
bam appétit
alexa godwin
I see it every day as I drive home. A plywood sign,
nailed to a post, stenciled with black letters.
“ULTIMATE FIGHTERS WANTED”
I figure it was put there by a local martial arts studio. And as I drove
past this sign, one of several around town, yet again today, it occurred to
me that this is the best advertising being done in this market right now.
Both creatively and strategically, it’s exactly what it should be: badass. Visually
aggressive, perfectly phrased, and with the military stencil letters, heavy lines and
squared-off shapes, the typography is impeccable. Basically, it’s the sign of a person who
punches people for using words like “impeccable.”
With that in mind, I made sure to be as polite as possible when I called the number.
*****
“Hello?” The man on the other end sounds pleasant, friendly even. His name is Alvin, and he is a mixedmartial-arts practitioner who’s had a hard time finding training partners. He also trains students, both in
fighting and in signage — it’s mostly students, he tells me, who make and put up the signs.
“Did you do the design yourself?” I ask. He tells me that he did, almost seeming to find the question
funny, but gamely explaining how he “put together the schematic” at home, cutting it out on paper,
then, sure enough, spray-painted the first few examples in his backyard.
He tells me he gets about 50 calls a week, a couple from women, all from the signs. They’re his only
method of advertisement. When I compliment him on the design and writing, he seems to shrug it off.
“Well, we tried some different colors — black on white, green on white; I think we did red on yellow
once, but this is the one that gets the most calls.”
ILLUSTRATION: DARNELL BROWN “FIREFIGHTER”
When I ask Alvin if posting signs around town without paying any fees or getting permission is, well,
legal, he only offers that sometimes the signs do get taken down, and in those cases he’s basically out
the few dollars it costs to make another one. It’s a good plan for his purposes,
and he’s very happy with it.
the realization dawns that they aren’t going to win the championship and everybody becomes a bunch of boo-birds. It’s like
they’ve had their hearts ripped out and they can’t recover until the
Wednesday after the game. HEARTACHE? You don’t even know
the meaning of the word.
I guess that’s why I’d rather spend a Saturday afternoon paddling
in my kayak. It’s peaceful, and relaxing, and I get to choose what
to think about—the all-gamecocks, all-the-time onslaught hasn’t
reached my favorite waterways just yet.
That’s when it occurred to me that Alvin could, if the judges were open-minded,
probably do quite well in competition — not just combat, but ad shows.
I started thinking about entering the campaign in our local Addys,
just to see what happens.
I soon realized, though, that for an ultimate fighter, there’s no
glory in judges’ approval, or plaques or trophies or tuxedoed
award show galas. There’s only winning and losing, and
for Alvin, the fight’s already over — and he won.
The phone is ringing.
Anyway, it’s not like I miss anything. By the time the big game
rolls around, I already know what’s going to happen on the field,
from the multi-media barrage on every screen and speaker for six
days prior. And when the game is over, whatever the outcome, I
know I’ll be hearing about it soon enough — and all next week.
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i see faces
ryon edwards
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two face
the general
grateface hingehead jr.
ILLUSTRATION: DARNELL BROWN “BELLY UP”
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hobart from planet tobor
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SUN
SHINE
A book of
enlightment.
by John T. Foust
netflix for books
michael powelson
A few months ago a friend turned me on to a great, relatively new site called goodreads.com.
It’s Netflix for books, only there’s no mailing, queuing, or automatic drafting — just people keeping
each other up on what they’ve been reading...and thinking. Here’s how it looks:
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links
contributors
(click on pictures to go to website)
Robo-Goat Keeps Racetrack Clean
Modified Clip Art Offends Ingeniously
Has a camera of her own, but likes
her friends’ pictures better.
Creates art every day and doesn’t
even know it.
Goes through more magazines in
a week than most people do in a
lifetime.
Can’t bear to see appliances
discarded in the woods.
Has Photoshop skills matched only
by his powers of persuasion.
Thousand-Dollar Skateboard Discourages Grinding
Book Reviews Permit Peeks Onto Friends’ Nightstands
Graffiti Vigilante Elevates Street Art
Actually tried the Cock-n-Fire wine,
and liked it.
Knows true inspiration comes
from within.
Can tell cilantro from oregano
blindfolded.
Has never ultimately fought anyone.
Could look under a freakin’ *rock*
and show you beautiful typography.
Rzine
issue 01. volume one. 2007
Abstract Expressionist Goes Digital
Creative Director:
Cathy Monetti
Publisher:
Kevin Smith
Editors-at-Large:
Colin Dullaghan
Larry Thacker
RIGGS
750 Meeting Street
West Columbia, SC 29169
p: 803 779 5972
f: 803 779 8447
Is not sure about time or space.
Considers Dave Eggers an
important and necessary talent.
Does not always live on an even keel.
May well have been updated since
you last saw it. [click to visit]
Cargo Box-Dweller “Wins” Saddest Cubicle Contest
Abecedary Delights Kids, Typographers
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