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Let's Talk: Feminist Communication...Let’s Talk: Feminist Communication…

With the full sub-title “Feminist Communication for Radicalizing Sex, Consent, & Interpersonal Dynamics,” “Let’s Talk” is a helpful zine exploring the connections between feminist communication, consent, interpersonal dynamics, and healing from abuse. Its focus on how we communicate with each other makes it worth reading, even for those already familiar with concepts of consent. It’s written in an engaging way and includes valuable information on gendered differences in communication, communicating boundaries and triggers, and consent. There’s also a number of activities aimed an encouraging further discussion and reflection.

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RudyLoewe

rudeyClaude McKay: Queer, Black & Radical

An A4 full colour short comic about the experiences of the writer Claude McKay, whilst he lived in London during the 1920s..

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Rustbelt Jessie

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one tale, told three ways b/w 

A prosepoem about personal mythology and girls I’ve loved.

She had a heart-shaped scar for every single lover. The night we met, she showed them to me: self-inflicted scars on her arms and legs. “Yes,” she said, “everyone I’ve fucked has been immortalized on my body.”

last summer of girlhood

A story about living in Pilsen, becoming a woman, and having an abortion.

I didn’t want to leave the neighborhood, but I couldn’t stand living in a punk house, not then. I was tired of the all-night parties, the junkies wandering in and out, the stench. Not that I was better than any of those punks, I was self-destructing, too. But I wanted to live somewhere clean and full of light. I wanted my own room. When we found an apartment above a record label, across the street from a twenty-four hour taqueria, I signed the lease immediately.

tumblr_inline_o2b33zpc9C1ryptsv_500Reckless Chants #22: Remember Who You Are

Stories from my life circa the ‘90s. Stories about how I got into zines, my dysfunctional family, shitty dudes, heartbreak, depression and self-destruction, trying to be cool (and failing miserably), being a terrible riot grrrl, gender confusion (being a punk rock girl and a glam rock boy), sexual misadventures, bike rides, adventure, some of the albums and books that changed my life, and more.

Pioneers Press says: “Recommended for fans of: Aaron Cometbus, Lydia Lunch, X, Al Burian, Lester Bangs, Ammi Emergency.”

Want a taste? Here are a few excerpts: excerpt from “dookie.” “coffeehouse failure.” excerpt from “you are the queen of my world.” excerpt from “24 hour revenge therapy.” excerpt from “when i carved a cross into my arm, this is what i really meant to say.”

And here we are, 21 years later. This cut & paste collage of a life, this punk rock anthem screamed at the wind, this spilling my thoughts onto Xeroxed pages, is all I’ve ever known.

tumblr_inline_o06wie9B7S1ryptsv_500Major Arcana of the Punk Rock Tarot

I’ve been dreaming up a Punk Rock Tarot for years now, and in September 2015 I embarked upon the DIY Tarot Challenge – which challenged me to create my own version of every card in the Major Arcana during the month of September. It gave me the opportunity to finally make the Punk Rock Tarot I’d been dreaming about, or, at least the Major Arcana. I made the cards cut’n’paste/Xerox art style, because it’s punk, and when I finished, I thought: why not make them into a zine?

This zine features all 22 cards in the Major Arcana, as well as descriptions about the cards and why I chose to represent them the way I did. Some of the cards feature punk rock icons (including John Doe and Exene Cervenka, Joe Strummer, Alice Bag, Laura Jane Grace, Jack Terricloth, Poly Styrene, and many more), others feature iconography relevant to punks (diners, tour vans, punk houses, riot grrrls, straight edgers…).

tumblr_inline_nklb6kERhF1ryptsvThis House Is Not A Landmark

Split zine with Jesse Grease. Sixteen stories (8 by Jesse Grease, 8 by Rust Belt Jessie) inspired by different areas of a house or apartment – bedrooms, bathrooms, basements; hallways, kitchens, front porches. Stories about leaving and staying, about good parties and bad relationships, about hardship and haircuts. Garbage and sadness and weird sex and great music. Our whole fucking life is a wreck.

I stare at the setting sun staining the clouds cotton candy colors, I sit here so long that the dirty tar roof stains the back of my pants. Just, just sit here with me for a minute. Look at those clouds. Sometimes I pretend they’re mountains. I pretend they’re the punk rock candy mountains – mountains I can easily climb, and on the other side, there are no parents who get upset about your queerness, there are no suicidal feelings, your favorite bands never break up and your favorite places never close down. There’s only punk rock records and cute zinesters and free beer forever.