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(originally printed in Encore Magazine 6/9/1989)
If you've ever been contacted by Publishers' Clearinghouse Sweepstakes, or even if you have ... " the letter began. I read it. Of course I read it. It was personalized, it was attached to a facsimile of a check made out to me in the amount of 14 million dollars or so, and the first line of body copy was in quotes. These are all Gallup tested techniques for increasing readership. No purchase was necessary, but participants were given the opportunity to subscribe to any or all of over 100 enticing periodicals.
Time could be had at discount rates, as could Newsweek, New Yorker, Rolling Stone and the rest of the standard fare mags. There were, however, more exotic offerings. In addition to figuring out what makes people more likely to read, you see, the organization long ago came up with the rule of thumb for publishers, which is, "If three people are interested in a given activity, and if you can find those three people, then you can put out a magazine devoted to that given activity and make money." Consequently, there are some highly specialized magazines out there, and many were made available to me at special rates through Publishers' Clearinghouse Sweepstakes.
There was Soldier of Poverty, a magazine for underemployed mercenaries. In the next column was Deja'' Vu, which promised the same articles and ads in each exciting issue. Down the list a bit was Pit Bull, which, unfortunately, was not available for home delivery. Three exclamation points led the eye to Musak, the official journal of shopping malls, elevators and dentists' offices. More within my psychographic profile was Deadhead, the magazine one may turn to for answers to those important questions like, "How many fingers is Jerry Garcia holding up?" and "Where did I park my car last night?" One box checked, I read on, coming to a notice for Dyslexia, a periodical which in no uncertain terms guaranteed to be "seilkeew tseretni lareneg tsom ot stcepser ynam ni ralimis."
As a possible gift item, I was attracted to Dammit! No articles whatsoever, simply a cinder block mailed to one's home, postage due each month. And then there was Procrastinate, which used the selling proposition, "Subscribe today, and your first issue will arrive eventually."
Persons interested in the social sciences will be pleased to learn of the existence of Economists' Lust, through which one may follow the courtship rituals of this primitive tribe as they "take a walk on the supply side" in a steamy search for interdependent utility functions. Others may wish to follow an ongoing series in a magazine called Left on 24N, which does not go to Morehead City.
The list goes on. There are magazines like The Skeptical Inquirer, which exists solely to contradict stories in other magazines. There are magazines for balloon sculptors and magazines for people who are distressed at what happens when balloon sculptures of household pets are placed in microwave ovens.
"If three people are interested in a given activity, and if you can find those three people, then you can put out a magazine devoted to that given activity and make money." Consequently there are magazines specifically geared to everyone in the United States ... except the people who have never been contacted by Publishers' Clearinghouse Sweepstakes, and if there were three such people, then a magazine would undoubtedly exist for them, too.
These pages describe the delusions, fantasies &