I enjoy attending indie comix and zine festivals and throwing money around everywhere and bringing home bulging sacks of weird little books that then sit in a growing pile of things I have not read. This is in some ways a worse situation than the traditional and time-honored pursuit of buying ordinary books and not reading them, because at least those look handsome on a bookshelf, spine-out. What to do with my hoard of stapled-and-folded treasures, which turn invisibly anonymous when squeezed...
