by Esmeralda Rupp-Spangle
With the peculiar mix of paranoia fatigue, frustration, isolation exhaustion, and collective desire to just say "fuck it," this vaccine rollout has given most of us here in the US a chance to really start getting back to normal... or normal adjacent, at least. By this point, though, normal isn’t gonna cut it. Stupidly dangerous or absurdly incautious seems more like what’s on order. Given that, let’s have a look at some of the weirdest celebrations and festivals that have graced our great nation in the summer months. Many of these may or may not be happening this year, and checking ahead of time before just showing up with a keg of beer and rubber pants seems like a good idea. That said, if enough people have the same idea—officially sanctioned or not—it seems like the party would be back on. For some of these, the day may have already passed and won’t come around again till next summer, but that will certainly give us all something to look forward to...
by Wombstretcha
Everyone loves a good, solid mystery, from cruel murders by unidentified hands to "who built this big, ancient stone thing?" People are compelled by the unexplained, lured by the cryptic, and spellbound by the unknown. It is in our very nature to seek answers, and we, as a species, are notorious for it. Our intellectual curiosity is the reason why we are not living in mud huts by a river somewhere and instead have commonplace technologies, which would seem utterly alien and magical to people alive even a hundred years ago. However, for all the modern world’s answers and explanations, there will always be some things that remain unknown and possibly even unknowable. I’m gonna pretend I’m Robert Stack and take you all through a shortlist of good unsolved mysteries, avoiding a few notables like the Zodiac Killer, JonBenet Ramsay, the Mickey Mouse penis debacle...really anything that’s had an issue of Time Magazine devoted to it...
by Blazer Sparrow
Oh, sweet, merciful Ra, True God of the Sun! How many animals and/or humans must we sacrifice to you to avoid another one of your awesome and terrible, so-called "Heat Domes" this summer? Your divine wrath is very much noted, and we will do anything to avoid another deadly strike.
In your infinite wisdom, you’ll probably say some dumb shit like, listen to our heretical scientists about not burning oceans-worth of fossil fuels daily until our planet melts, but we all know that’s never gonna happen, blessed Ra. So, we suppose we will just start planning for hotter, longer, and more powerful "Heat Domes" from your vengeful, holy ass for the foreseeable future...
by Jaime Dunkle
Soul was a bad girl. At times, a terrible woman. Deep down, she yearned to be punished for the suffering she caused herself and others. Especially Heart. Or maybe she just wanted to be held. Accountable.
"Don’t be so hard on yourself," Heart said to Soul on his bed. Even though Soul left Heart for someone else, at least the first time she broke up with him. She left him for someone she barely knew but felt like she always knew: Poetry, who burned brighter than the sun, but was as elusive as a new moon—a brilliance to be experienced, but a flame that flickers beyond grasp.
At that point, Heart wouldn’t even call Soul his partner, so Soul justified her flawed behavior. She told herself she did the right thing because she didn’t act on impulse. She didn’t technically cheat on him, although later, she admitted she was in denial of emotionally cheating on him. Soul couldn’t stand the idea of betraying Heart, so she rushed to his home to tell him of her confusing feelings for Poetry, not realizing the ongoing damage about to unfold...
by Bryan A. Bybee
Local industry news and events...
Featuring Bunny from X Exotic Lounge...
by Hannah One Cup
To be clear, when the earth is melting, no one is going to care if anyone is happy or not. But to be doubly clear, when I refer to melting, I’m referring to what a goth person considers to be possibly the worst possible time of the year, and that includes comparing it to those winter holiday seasons in stores ("It’s the hap-happiest season of all," my goth ass). Anything above roughly 82-degrees Fahrenheit quickly starts to turn a goth person’s normal daily black on black on black attire into a hot box surrounded by actual misery, woe, whining, possible tears of frustration, and faux suicidal ideations of jumping off the bridge just to get into the cold, cold, very cold water...
