by Shelt Garner
@sheltgarner
What happened with ROKon Magazine was so long ago that not even I, the keeper of its memory, care anymore other than drawing upon its legacy to write a novel. I know how great a story it is and what could be done with it under the right conditions, but, lulz, absolutely no one else will care or listen to me.
The late Annie Shapiro and me back in our ROKon Magazine days when I was still cute.
But today, out of the blue, someone came to this site through Instagram and made a beeline to what they could find about ROKon Magazine. I am WELL AWARE of how one could perceive my obsession with my Webstats as…creepy…but…lulz, my life is so devoid of anything interesting these days, please give me this one thing.
Here’s what I think happened — someone got wind of me and ROKon Magazine and did a search for me. My Instagram account was the first link they found, then they went from there to this site. Why anyone would give a shit about ROKon Magazine at this point without me prompting them is…intriguing.
My favorite cover of ROKon Magazine.
I am working with some people on a new online literary zine, so maybe someone was curious about me through that? But how they would know about ROKon Magazine specifically if that was the case is a mystery.
But I find the whole thing — while intriguing — a lulz. I’m so old at this point that I only keep breathing out of spite. Sigh.
