We are deeply grateful to the festival for its support in reviving The Ozorian Prophet in printed form during last summer’s “Re-Generation”-inspired edition. After years of print dormancy, the Prophet returned in two vibrant and traditionally broadband editions—the week-starting and the peak-of-the-week—each printed in 5,000 copies. Today, we honor the Prophet’s founder, Gerely, on his everlasting birthday by sharing the downloadable PDFs of these summer editions.

Hope your spirit is well, brother. You are loved, always and forever.

The Ozorian Prophet 2024 Opening Monday PDF

The Ozorian Prophet 2024 Peak Friday PDF

Once upon a time, in the far-flung galaxy of 2012, amid the chaos of sun-warmed vodka, power cuts, and flies relentless as the heat, The Ozorian Prophet came into being. Its cradle? A narrow beer table in what later was dubbed “Press Alley”, squeezed between two caravans, off-and-on internet, and the occasional tripping layout guy. Gerely Borbély—chief editor, founder, friend, brother—willed it into existence with sheer grit and a touch of madness. He’d throw his hands up in frustration, mutter, “That’s it, I’m done,” then sit back down and push through anyway. And we pushed with him—writing, translating, proofreading, soul-supporting.

We didn’t know then what a lifeline it would become. By the time Geri left us in 2017, the Prophet was already a force, connecting the Ozorian tribe, even outside festival time. It carried on, surviving his loss, even flourishing online when the pandemic hit. Monthly PDF Prophetzines kept the spirit alive, delivering a piece of Paradise to every locked-down home.

In 2023, the Prophet returned to print—scrappy, punk, and fiercely independent, just as Geri would’ve loved. Three editions, hand-printed on leftover paper with leftover ink, manually folded into grungy A4 booklets. Inspired by “samizdat” underground literature, it screamed, we the people create ourselves. But many Ozorians missed its, more symbolic than effective, rebirth. Last summer, however, when we handed out the printed Prophets again, people greeted it with joy—some thrilled to see it return, others simply happy to witness its existence, especially newcomers and younger tribe members still fresh to Ozora after the pandemic. It was as if Geri’s half-smile of contentment nodded down on us from his heavens, a quiet but almost palpable acknowledgment of the ongoing spirit he planted in this community.

Today, we honor that spirit. Universal Geri Day celebrates the eternal birthday of the man who gave our tribe a voice—a voice that’s a lifeline, a living archive, a reminder of who we are.

Geri wasn’t just the chief editor; he was the beating heart of this shared dream. He was a work hard-love-hard-party hard spirit, cared with fierce selflessness, and connected every microverse in our Paradise. Everyone had their own version of him—a bestie, a friend, a brother, a wildcard. He was the gonzo glue that bound it all together, going all in with every word, every action, and every moment.

His spirit lives on in every page of The Ozorian Prophet, a testament to our love-and-light-seeking subculture. He is the seed that grew into this universally owned, independent, and free collection of our shared existence. You have never left us, Gerely; we feel you all around, an ever-present force by our side onwards…