Dissent; Why a Zine?

Is it just me? Things in this digital era seem flat. Dull, almost lifeless, locked inside a computer screen that we can’t touch or hear or smell or taste. Only see. You can only look. That “I love you” posted to my Facebook wall feels distant, unreachable, but not in the good way like seeing the summit of a mountain from the trailhead. No, unrealizable because it’s not… well… real. That selfie with friends posted to Instagram, that was the 35th picture we took, plus we spent half an hour deciding which filter looked best. I wasn’t even smiling because I...

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“Good Head”

Milo Yiannopoulos has gotten his just due after video was released of the gay British journalist (?) and former senior editor of Breitbart News condoning pedophilia. In case you haven’t already seen it: What strikes me most about this video isn’t that Yiannopoulos approves of pedophilia, but in the way he does it. When the host says, “I got lucky,” because he didn’t get touched by a priest during his time in Catholic schools, Yiannopoulos whines, “What do you mean you got lucky? You got unlucky?” And then later: “I’m grateful for Father Michael. I wouldn’t give nearly such good...

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Dumpster Fire

Pink pussyhats bob in the sea of people standing around in Denver’s Civic Center Park. There’s a march happening on the streets surrounding it. And while this is a moment, it seems too docile, too tame, too authorized to make an impact. At least to me, brash, aggressive, hot-tempered, wearing all black, the same “Ted Cruz is the Zodiac Killer” T-shirt I wore the night before shooting Jameson to the tune of yelling, screaming, pushing and shoving. Protesting, even 100,000 strong, feels (forgive me) fake. Fabricated. Manufactured. And it was. We were given permission to walk around in this playpen....

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