FREE PRESS : What Internet? For teens with ideas to express and creativity to burn, the hottest information technology is the old-fashioned photocopier.

By ROSE APODACA JONES

April 7, 1995 12 AM PT

SPECIAL TO THE TIMES

What some teens will do to get their point across.

They’ll spend hours pouring onto paper their thoughts on last night’s punk show and the futility of sexism in modern times. Spend Saturday afternoons typing and hours after school in a copy shop. They’ll save their lunch money, borrow from their parents and, if necessary, get a job. Plus they will risk kicks to their egos after disseminating their carefully slapped-together efforts.

This cabal of high schoolers joins the thousands of other underground writers and artists using photocopy machines, home computers and do-it-yourself ingenuity to produce the homemade magazines--called ‘zines--hailed as the antithesis of mass media. While ‘zines can cost from 47 cents to several dollars, many teens charge nothing--taking the concept of a free press all the way.

These publications are distributed in schools, coffeehouses, at gigs and independent record stores. At Vinyl Solution in Huntington Beach, a couple of shelves are designated for ‘zines from around the country and the county.

Some write about the world according to Beavis and Butt-head. But beneath all the scratchy lettering and sloppy layout, there is in some, real depth. Their idiosyncrasies won’t win any Maggie awards (a magazine version of the Oscars) or Pulitzers for content, however. They may not even get the time of more than a dozen readers. And that’s the point.

“They’re a cool way to express your views and get them out there,” says Brian Bradshaw, an Aliso Niguel High junior who contributes to his college brother’s coffeehouse reader, the Drinkin’ Buddy.

What’s more, adds the 16-year-old Laguna Niguel resident, “it’s a way to culture each other.”

David Taba deals more in a stock exchange than a cultural one with the way he buys, trades and amasses ‘zines. The Servite High junior’s collection runs in the hundreds since he came across his first four years ago at age 12.

His fascination is fueled by their inherently democratic features: contributions accepted from anyone regardless of writing ability, and the courage to print just about anything. They are factors he’s come to appreciate as the opinion editor of his school paper.

Finally last April, he mobilized a few friends to start production on the debut issue of a ‘zine devoted to their beloved punk scene. “I always wanted to do something related to punk,” says David, “but I had no musical talent. So there was this.”

Innovative Plagiarism emerged by early summer, a cut-and-pasted, stapled book. It was modeled after the ‘zine that printed David’s first submission (a letter), Maximum Rock ‘N’ Roll, a granddaddy in this literary category. Plagiarism, David says, refers to “what everybody does. There’s no longer one original idea out there. Everyone just borrows and reworks it.”

Serving as coordinator, David and classmates Chris Neal, 16, and Rudy Salo, 18, and about 10 other contributors each issue assemble reviews of new albums and shows, essays, fiction, interviews and art.

It’s like a consumer guide, says David, who sees that every free issue gets printed by selling advertising space ($4 for a third of a page, $6 for half a page and $10 for a full page) and forking out the rest when necessary. A friend at a copier store gives him “mass discounts,” which is fortunate. The first edition of the ‘zine had a run of 150; now it’s up to 500 copies--at a cost of $200.

The fifth issue, coming out this week, coincides with the release of David’s first effort on another of his ventures, Liberation Records. The compilation, with 2,000 pre-sold copies, features such local heavies as Pennywise and Sublime.

The 16-year-old, who intends to study philosophy then possibly law at UCLA or UC Berkeley, jump-started the label with a loan from his father and hopes it will eventually support the ‘zine.

Several hours a week go to listening to the promotional records he receives from indie labels anxious to get ink in ‘zines. The underground network of such publications offers a cachet in some circles that all the publicity in Rolling Stone or Spin could never duplicate.

For smaller publications like David’s, being reviewed in more established ‘zines can only spread their efforts--no matter what the critique. Maximum Rock ‘N’ Roll considered Innovative Plagiarism “not in-depth enough,” to which David replies, “It’s hard work.” Flipside paid the ultimate compliment by simply stating, “This is punk.” The reviews list the ‘zine’s address, bringing David contributions and letters from across the country.

While they generally operate on an anti-censorship principle, limits exist. “We don’t print anything sexist, racist or homophobic,” David says.

In the spirit that there’s room for more, David was encouraged to see one staffer set off on his own.

Toby Jorda, a Servite junior, put out 120 copies of Jail Break in February. Jorda and ‘zine co-creator Missy Haller, 15, a Savannah High sophomore, exhort a determined straight-edge agenda. The ‘zine’s title is about freeing oneself from the cage of conventions, they say.

Jail Break, written on Missy’s computer and printed on a photocopier, is an outlet for stretching their individual voices. “It’s a way of getting a message out without having to go on a soapbox and shoving it down people’s throats,” says Toby, 17.

“When you put something on paper, people respect it more,” David says. “We are the media. We are what’s happening. Someone who’d otherwise buy a major magazine and instead chooses a ‘zine . . . I think that’s being progressive.”

The greatest marks of progress may reveal themselves in the ‘zine creators themselves.

Gratified by improvements in their writing (spelling is another issue), their ability to figure out production and an overall sense of accomplishment once they clench the finished product moves them to continue, even begin new projects.

With only one issue of Broadside out, Brea Olinda sophomores Doug Hong, 15, and Phillip Acosta, 16, have outlined several goals. Both will take photography in school next year to gain access to equipment.

Phillip will also sign up for graphic design, applying the skills to screening T-shirts with the Broadside logo or using them when he starts his own skateboard clothing company after high school. If Doug’s career as a punk rock star in his band Standstill--which will be featured in future issues of Broadside--doesn’t happen, he’ll consider architecture.

The debut edition of Broadside, a thick, neat book that took four months to finish on a school Macintosh, sells for $1. That’s to help cover production costs paid by Doug via gifts, allowance and a loan from his mother. In the next issue, expect advertising and a stronger message adhering to Phillip’s and Doug’s interests in straight edge and Christianity. Besides the usual write-ups on hard-core bands, features will include interviews with an animal-rights activist (Doug’s a vegetarian) and a Holocaust survivor.

“You can’t go up to 100 people and talk to them about your beliefs,” Doug says. “With a ‘zine, you can do whatever you want, change from issue to issue. There are no rules. It’s cool.”

Still, the experience has taught them some basic rules of journalism. Following the lead of most ‘zines, the two acquired band interviews by post. Phillip, a reporter for his school paper, says he’ll stick to interviews in person or on the phone. “You can’t elaborate on a question through the mail.”

While some writers use ‘zines as platforms for their ideals and miscellaneous rants, others exult a less lofty mission.

Picnic looks like it’s been compiled by second-graders. Lettering is mostly scribbled, and the illustrations laughably cute. Almost every page features a photograph plucked from its authors’ family albums.

But it’s this sweet sentimentality that has endeared Picnic to its high school readership. Says co-founder Garett Goddard, 15: “We wanted to do something that’s silly and pointless, because there’s not enough of that.”

Consider their original name: “Mr. Furley,” after the landlord on the ‘70s sitcom “Three’s Company.” Sadly, says Garett, “We couldn’t find a big enough picture of Don Knotts.”

Beyond the intentional nonsense, the Canyon High sophomore and his cohort, Sunny Hills sophomore Cameron Byers, 15, show some real wit.

Their stories glide from the normal to the bizarre in a matter-of-fact manner that should win high marks from their English teachers. Instead, neither one cares to let his teacher in on the secret.

“We’re not really weird guys,” he says. “For a while we were slacking off, doing nothing. This is something productive, though. I was just really bored, and I just started writing.”

Cameron, too, has long solved his boredom by writing nutty stories and creating wacky line art. Indeed, Picnic was born, like many ‘zines, out of boredom. It’s also a vehicle for promoting their band, the Grizwalds.

With the third issue of their publication out now, their greatest concern is money. So far, they’ve managed to pay for printing 150 copies by using their lunch money and weekly allowances. Though a 50-cent charge is under consideration, Garett worries: “I’ll feel a little more pressure to make it worth the 50 cents. At least if it’s free, it doesn’t matter if it sucks.”

In the meantime, they will keep it stress-free and silly. Says Garett: “We’ll probably keep on doing it until we run out of ideas and get bored.”