In a stack of Xeroxed booklets, one provides detailed steps for cities to become more bike friendly, and another suggests that you can dance away your debt. Several more challenge military recruiting methods, while others feature poorly drawn cartoons and pieces of fiction.

Once popular and mildly influential in the 1970s and 80s, the zine scene still thrives, more entrenched in its cult status than ever.

For the uninitiated, a zine is an independent manifesto, usually in the form of a magazine, made at the producers own expense and given away for free. While they have been around since the days of Ben Franklin, they became more popular with the advancement of cheap photocopying. Many times, zines are little more than photocopied pages, stapled together and dropped off at a bookstore (given enough demand, they are actually mailed to subscribers).

Zines are available in most metropolitan areas. In Philadelphia, you can find them at bookstores like Big Jar Books, the Wooden Shoe, Deep Sleep, and Brave World Comics. Last October, the Philly Zine Fest celebrated its 6th year.

Like a magazine, zines are categorized by subject; these include political, music, personal, environmental, and photography. By nature, they serve as a counterpoint to mainstream media and are free of censorship. However, the lack of objective reporting forces the reader to judge any pieces accuracy or merit.

Some of them use simple cartoon characters to voice their opinions. Homeless Higgins is a cartoon strip where a silhouetted man waxes philosophically on the state of homelessness. “Why is it when the federal government needs money, the price of beer, cigarettes and pizza goes up? What does pizza have to do with the world’s problems?”

When asked about the definition of homelessness, he describes it as “A free gift from the politicians to keep us from eating those unhealthy foods, like steaks, lobsters, etc…”

At times, the author uses a news report such as, “Today, the New York City Homeless Pride Parade, 3,500,000 strong, moved up 5th Avenue to the Tavern on the Green in Central Park, where they were given free wine and cheese and a bus ticket to Boston.”

Oftentimes the creator of a zine will leave their personal contact information on the copy. Mel Ralph, a traveling musician from Australia currently staying in London, is the creator of Rhythm & Sorrow. She says that she doesn’t necessarily create zines to get a response, buut she does appreciate the feedback she receives. When asked if she compared it to leaving a message in a bottle, she agreed that there was an element of that.

“It’s definitely a thrill for me knowing that someone out there understands me in some small way. And that small feeling of connection is really something for me. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be doing this.”

She had recently stayed in New York, and her latest zine is a reflection of her experiences. Her comic-style zine includes single scene and accompanying text. Little to no back-story is provided, which forces the readers to create their own at times.

“Nothing annoys me more than a text-heavy zine that is so specific about the personal details that instead of drawing you into the story, it actually pushes you out,” said Ralph. “I really try to just capture moments that happened to me or my friends, and present them in a way that will make sense to everyone regardless of whether they were there or not.”

No one can discuss zines without talking about zine culture. Standing outside of ABC No Rio on Rivington Street in New York, I am unsure of whether or not I should enter the building. The outside door is slightly ajar, but the space looks vaguely residential. Eventually, I make my way to the zine library on the second floor. There, volumes of texts from around the country are stored in labeled envelopes, which wrap around the walls of two rooms.

Inside, volunteers talk about the Israeli/Palestinian crisis. A twenty-three-year-old student volunteer, Liz, is sitting at a computer. Aside from the house cat rubbing against my leg, I am left alone until somebody offers me something to eat. The free nature has permeated throughout the entire center, as visitors are encouraged to write about their experiences and to take a zine. The library is entirely staffed by volunteers but only open twelve hours a week.

Zines are available in most metropolitan areas. In Philadelphia, you can find them at bookstores like Big Jar Books, The Wooden Shoe, Deep Sleep and Brave World Comics. Last October the Philly Zine Fest celebrated its 6th year.

Jack Bratich, another ABC No Rio librarian, and Media Studies Professor at Rutgers points out that believes that zine culture is as strong as ever. “The rise of Riot Grrl zines in the early to mid 90s was crucial to zine proliferation. I’m not sure if any of this stuff is tracked in terms of output, but I would speculate that there are more per-zines in the last decade than before.”

He mentions that newspapers and magazines, as they begin to lose way to the Internet as a popular medium, could learn from zines. He stresses that they should focus on sustainable models of production, distribution and consumption, and linking the media output with specific and local interests. He suggests that, in the future, more and more publications will work on forming micro-publics rather than nation-state scale publics.

“If the desire is to reach a mass audience, then zines will not be the vehicle. Many would consider professional journalism, especially its print forms, to be increasingly irrelevant. For those who are building communities of interest, zine culture would be a great place to look for models. I consider zine culture an early type of social networking through media.”