Here at Microcosm we have massive love for all-things Bill Brown. Over the last few years we’ve put out a few of the guy’s releases and just, like, two seconds ago we published his incredibly awesome compilation of Dream Whip issues 1-10. (You can get that here.) A couple days ago we talked to Bill about bikes, food, zines, and much more!
Q: For people who are totally new to the zine what can they expect from the new anthology?
Q: You’ve got a rep as a travelin’ man. Are you going to be doing any events or touring behind the new one?
A: That’s what I’m hoping. I’d like to go on a big, long tour this summer. If you know anyone who wants to include a zine reading at their next birthday party or barbecue, please let me know.
Q: I first found out about your stuff after someone gave me a copy of one of your DVDs for Christmas. Got any new films coming out?
A: Someone gave you my DVD as a Christmas present?! Man! I hope you thought it was an okay gift (Editor’s note: “It was! Definitely!”). Anyway, for a really long time now I’ve been working on a movie about 9/11 memorials. I’ve been visiting as many of them as I can. I like the ones that are in out-of-the-way places best: Dodge City, Kansas; Belen, New Mexico; the one in Hattiesburg, Mississippi is a replica of the Twin Towers with holes cut out of it where the planes hit.
Q: Besides the new anthology have you got any projects coming out you wanna tell us about?
A: I’ve been working on a bike project with Sabine Gruffat. It’s a participatory audio tour that you can do while you’re riding your bike. It’s called Bike Box. here’s a link.
Food: Not Bombs
Fuel: french fry grease
Q: Finally, if your zine was a three course meal what would it be?
A: It’d be a 3-course TV dinner that you find in the freezer section of an IGA supermarket in some little town in Idaho. It expired a long time ago, but you buy it anyway, because it’s the only one that’s got a lentil loaf, a slice of vegan corn bread, and green beans. You take it over to the 7-11 and you ask the cute girl at the register if you can heat it up in the microwave and she smiles and asks you where you’re from. You grab a napkin and a plastic fork, and you walk over to the woods at the far end of the strip mall parking lot. Then you dig around in your backpack for the can of beer you stashed away for an occasion like this one, and you watch the light fade and the fireflies flash up in the tree tops.