Review: The Final Girl: How Horror Movies Made Me a Better Feminist
Kris Rose paints a picture of how renting Texas Chainsaw Massacre and Waxwork brought feminism to their suburban sanctuary.
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Kris Rose paints a picture of how renting Texas Chainsaw Massacre and Waxwork brought feminism to their suburban sanctuary.
Lunchmeat VHS’ survey of surviving American video stores reveals a hidden purpose behind these defiant movie paradises.
The more visible trans folks become, the more they deal with weird and confusing transphobes. Literally so, so many. Endless. Now we have a bestiary.
Samuel W. Grant has made sure that the collection is filled to the brim with Brad Neely-esque, single-page illustrations, each piece funnier than the last.
The latest zine from Label Obscura covers Quebec’s heavy metal vets, maritime supergroups and glam rock in the great white north.
Baylis’ Harvey Pekar-esque writing shines throughout So Buttons. His personable and welcoming tone showing that each piece, despite the varying art styles, is thoroughly ‘his.’
Thick as a car manual, band interviews, record reviews, shorter prose and poetry make up the bulk of this Montreal fanzine.
The whimsical storytelling of Casey Harrison’s Borderline transports the reader into a world of pure fantasy that is matched by its gorgeous, ethereal illustrations.
“Sessility” describes a lack of mobility in organisms. The inability to move under their own metabolic processes. In Sessile, our narrator finds themselves unable to move on.
Good Lord My Daughter’s A Goddamn Radical! is fun and sassy, mocking false green promises by corporations, the gender pay gap, and Margaret Thatcher.
Carlos Gonzalez’ sense of humour is consumed by a world of rot and body horror; puerile, but also quite unique.
Henry Hardwicke Carruthers provides a wry, meticulous and absurdist satire of the absurdist scandal plaguing Boris Johnson.