NOUS 8 - The Play Issue

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The P l ay I s s u e

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N O U S No. 8 Spr i ng ◎ 2 0 1 7 £ 8 € 1 0 $1 2 team

trident

press

Editorial & Art Direction Lisa Lorenz Associate Editors George Odysseos Liv D’Cruz Proofreading George Odysseos Olivia Havercroft Cover Illustration Benedikt Luft Inner Cover Illustration Lucy Grainge Words Alex C. Renwick Ami Nash Angus Stewart Dan Ryder Delyth Telford Douglas W. Milliken Gary Beck Hal O’Leary J. J. Steinfeld Jacqueline Seewald Jake Duff Jessica Higgins Matilda Roberts Matthew Harrison Maz Dublé Mercedes Webb-Pullman Miriam Avery MK Punky Noel Heath Rin Johnson Sharon Tully Odysseos Vaska Trajkovska Illustration Antonia Stoyke Eleonora Bonanzinga Hendrik Schneider Joanna Simpson John Molesworth Justė Urbonoavičiūte Lucie Knights Lucy Grainge Lucy Jones Maita Hajiioannidou Marco Armbruster Matt Mullins Michaela Pointon Nick Taylor Nicolai Diekman Tony Allen Photography Madalina Preda Jameson Kergozou

Playlist

by Michael Holland michaelhollandcreations.tumblr.com & latviaenjoyedslowly.blogspot.co.uk ☞ Instagram: Keswicklemon ☞ diskono.jimdo.com Edward Lear The Broom, The Shovel, The Poker and the Tongs Stock, Hausen and Walkman Nipples Maja Ratkje Chipmunk Party Raymond Scott Little Miss Echo Malcolm Clarke Radiophonic Workshop Bathtime Senor Coconut Smooth Operator Position Normal No Point Going Out Fem Bitch Nation Masturbate (Fucking Fem Bitch YRFBN Remix) Throbbing Gristle Persuasion Keswicklemon 1Up Aksak Maboul The Mooche Ken Nordine Bubblegum People Like Us Millennium Dome Inertia Satisfaction Listen to this Mind Culture Mix No. 5 via our online audio archive: ☞ soundcloud.com/asweareaway Watch Harvey (1950) Henry Koster Juno and the Paycock (1994) Alfred Hitchcock I’m a Cyborg, But That’s OK (2006) Chan-wook Park It's Such a Beautiful Day (2012) Don Hertzfeldt Frank (2014) Lenny Abrahamson Inside Out (2015) Pete Docter & Ronnie Del Carmen

Typefaces Arek by Khajag Apelian ☞ debakir.com Mangal by Raghunath Joshi Paper Cyclus 80g/m² Cyclus 200g/m² Marc the Printers marctheprinters.co.uk Printed & Bound by Team Trident Press teamtridentpress.com blue rubber bands ☞ modulor.de Printed in Manchester, U.K. March 2017 Publisher’s Note © The publisher and contributors reserve their rights in regards to copyright. No part may be reproduced or copied without the written consent of NOUS. Danke!

The views and opinions expressed in this issue are those of the authors and do not necessarily reflect the position of NOUS. Subscription enquiries subscribe@nous-magazine.de All other enquiries hej@nous-magazine.de www.nous-magazine.de Edition

of 500

Fo r mind culture & empathic thinking.

NOUS is here to help you slow down and get to the bottom

We invite professional as

of abstract issues such as depression and stress in a

well as novice writers to

creative and uplifting way. In our everyday life we often

respond to these topics

tend to lose track in a sea of messages and expectations

building a balanced

surrounding us.

magazine showcasing opinions from different

With social progress and seemingly increasing freedom

countries and social

we also feel a growing pressure on our performance in the

groups.

various roles we take on. We are here to advocate for a more open and emotional engagement with issues related

This is the person next to

to our mental health. We want to invite you to slow down

you sharing their story.

with us. Let’s take our time for a mindful engagement

This is a community

with the person next to us and ourselves.

embracing individuality, believing in a better today.

Mental Health has increasingly moved into our society’s focus during the last years as more and more people overcome prejudice and speak out about their struggle, seek for help, and tell their stories.

nous. A philosophical term for the faculty of the human mind

We admire their courage. We fight with them for a

necessary for understanding

healthy society. We stand tall for stories that connect and

what is true or real. In colloquial

make us understand better.

English, nous also denotes good sense, which is close to meaning

Each issue of NOUS explores a specific facet of mind

it had in Ancient Greece. nous is

culture, steadily building an encyclopedia of emotional,

reason, understanding, mind

and creative response to challenging topics, offering ways

and awarenss.

of engagement and ease.

About NOUS

by Lisa Lorenz

Watching a Bee Expire in the Garden

by MK Punky

FINISH

100

110

94

14

Proxy

by Jake Duff illustration Apollonia Saintclair

126

play time Alex C. Renwick

Unbridling Play Vaska Trajkovska photography Madalina Preda

80

Cowboy

by Douglas W. Milliken illustration Hendrik Schneider

88

Pleasing Things

by Mercedes Webb-Pullman illustration Marco Armbruster

California Cult Dreaming

by Ami Nash illustration Matt Mullins

START

Permission to Play

by Miriam Avery illustration Justė Urbonavičiūtė

⌣

170

Play Parties

by Rin Johnson illustration Eleonora Bonanzinga

Bored in the City

by Matilda Roberts photography Jameson Kergozou

Poster Inlay: The Advocacy Project

by AIMS Advocacy illustration Lucie Jones

Living Through Music

by Maz Dublé illustration Antonia Stoyke There Are Many Ways To Score

by Delyth Telford photography Jameson Kergozou

153

86

played out Alex C. Renwick

14

16

Play A Necessity

by Hal O’Leary illustration Michaela Pointon

78

40

Distract & Conquer

by Gary Beck illustration Nick Taylor

66

Casino

by Jacqueline Seewald illustration John Molesworth

64

Should We Play

by Sharon Tully illustration Joanna Simpson

62

play time Alex C. Renwick

128 Sudoku

by Matthew Harrison illustration Liv D’Cruz

56

Derek’s Jaw

by Amelia King illustration Maita Hadjiioannidou

50

22

Mo Lin

by Angus Stewart illustration Lucie Knights

46

I Forget Who Was on Whose Side

by J.J. Steinfeld illustration Nicolai Diekman

32

Funny Monster

by Noel Heath illustration Tony Allen

30

Grand Theft

by Dan Ryder

Contents

The Play Issue

8

9

Why pamper life’s complexities when the leather runs smooth on the passenger seat?

Dear Reader.

Iquuntorem faces eos aut pa quidentem harum aribus exeri aut dolut od modicient et explique alignat qui beat pore plabo. Faccusdam doluptis et endiorestis quam, sum faccus reperate vel ilitibu stioratia ped que nihilic ientibus et, officate antor autene

This Charming Man

by The Smiths

voluptatum as ut rectis culluptas eatur modigeniae. Musdaessit, quatem qui audit ut untiur sequam, quam exerum fugia nonsedi citatia nissunto tem sum niminciis ma quis sam, omnis modici opta plia volupta turectent, sit, sim remquas eni restrum volectempori sintiis nostibus re eat.

Osam, adi temquatia consequ

pl ay issue

aspersp erchil illuptate nulpa cum venihil ipsaestrum num ea cus atus soluptas di quia posande litat.

Busam volorrovid qui aut mos pedic to expliberat andebit quia dolorest volore nusandic te ped ut dolorem corem iunt ipsam, nos pore incius, nos est qui dendit ipicien dendel ipsum est, nusam quiam, ipsus resto modis acepres nonsequam quatum sendis pro con ratur aut aut vene cum quatecearum voluptatur, solorepta solut estota quidus aturiosapel et, sequi di officiist, velestio moluptiost, suntia eum imped ut ellautati simusae strumqui culluptam, enissum incto mollautatur?

Olute nus. Rum voluptisim dolorit am, odit, natur?

Am earum quo dolupta alit, serios estio. Eped minum quatio comnistin consequ isimus.

Quodi iur am fuga. Pudantionem ilici offic to ommodipsant enecaepe ea con ra dolupit eum veni velique militin vendam doluptata volum qui re doluptaque dollatq uiatia sit, teceptur, accusamusam et aut et optaspit faccae omnissi magnihicatis

scilia enimendiae experoria volore, unt faci cum, sequi reprae nos eium hillanis eum sam quam quo inis aut volorro occabore quam hillese niminve nemporpos doluptata illor re ea ditae rector aut aut vene cum quatecearum voluptatur, solorepta solut estota quidus aturiosapel et, sequi di officiist, velestio moluptiost, suntia eum imped ut ellautati simusae strumqui culluptam, enissum incto mollautatur?

Olute nus. Rum voluptisim dolorit am, odit, natur?

Am earum quo dolupta alit, serios estio. Eped minum qu r aut aut vene cum quatecearum voluptatur, solorepta solut estota quidus aturiosapel et, sequi di officiist, velestio moluptiost, suntia eum imped ut ellautati simusae strumqui culluptam, enissum incto mollautatur?

Olute nus. Rum voluptisim dolorit am, odit, natur?

Am earum quo dolupta alit, serios estio. Eped minum qu Oh, I would

go out tonight...

il illorehenis volore perferum, eaquatatem volorendem. Xeruntu

Introduction to Play

Lisa Lorenz & George Odysseos

10

11

pl ay issue

One C h i l d ’s P l a y PLAYED OUT PLAY A NECESSITY MO LIN GRAND THEFT FUNNY MONSTER I FORGET WHO WAS ON WHOSE SIDE DEREK’S JAW SUDOKU

12

13

Part One. I n n o c e n c e . I d e n t i t y. I m a g i n a t i o n .

Child's Play is associated with silly things, useless activities, no aim-no gain stuff that just keeps us from being productive.

Children just don't get the gravity of life yet. They have the privilege of living in a sort of parallel universe, able to explore and waste time without a bad conscience.

In this chapter our authors are going to search for ways we can find the way back to play in our everyday life as adults. How we can get lost in these alternative worlds and how we can re-define our identities for example in cyber space. We will detect how we try to turn play and leisure time, even dating into something we can gain respect and social status with.

When was the last time you truly engaged in a game that had absolutely no purpose, neither for you or some dodgy internet game provider? When did you last loose yourself in a made-up story. Do you remember what was your favourite game as a child?

â—Ž

One — Child’s Play

Introduction

14

15

pl ay issue

played out WORDS ALEX C. RENWICK

played out

you work: hours alone at your computer

you play: hours alone at your computer

One — Child’s Play

Innocence, Identity, Imagination

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WORDS HAL O’LEARY

ILLUSTRATION MICHAELA POINTON

Play: A Necessity A tale o f a f a t h e r re m e m b e ri n g w ha t happines s c a n b e , a n d h o w w e c an r edi s c ov e r i t b y k e e p i n g t h e c h i l d in our eyes .

On cleaning out a large walk-in

I’ve often said that there are only

closet in what was once the nursery

two sources of happiness. The first

the other day, I came across Charlie,

is anticipation, the anticipation of

a large stuffed pony, and a picture

whatever event we look forward to

of my son Sean with Charlie and

with joy. In fact, it might be said

Spot, their faithful beagle mascot.

that these anticipations become a raison d’etre, a reason for being.

Charlie was Sean’s favorite toy.

Ragged though he was now, with his

The second source of happiness is

stuffing protruding, I can remember

recollection. Throughout most of our

when he was once the sleek steed

lives we will have accumulated a trove

carrying his master into the fray with

of treasured memories and mementos

Spot the wonder dog trotting along

that will serve us in later years as a

through all the wondrous adventures

renewed source of happiness. These will

his fertile mind could imagine.

gradually replace the fewer periods of anticipation that accompany old age.

In place of a reason for being, they become our reason for having been. ☞

One — Child’s Play

Play: A Necessity

18

19

We go back to a night more than

Under this handicap (no pun

half a century ago. It was a night,

intended) plus the fact that the pair

following a most frustrating day

of pliers I needed was somewhat out

for me as the most pitiful excuse

of reach, and not being able to release

for a salesman, making the calls

the wires for fear of another blackout

but not making the sales. I had

or worse – the electrocution of my

undertaken a most frustrating task.

near-by son – I fussed and fumed.

We go

the floor, courageously astride Charlie,

He was playing there beside me on

back

to a

night As an even poorer excuse for an electrician, I was attempting something I was illequipped to do.

The scene was our kitchen. To be more precise, it was a space on the kitchen floor where I was engaged with the

his sturdy steed, with the ever vigilant Spot asleep at their side. They were on a mission that I might imagine had to do with a dragon and a damsel in distress.

Senseless

Simplistic

Unnecessary

I must admit that with the

most perplexing task of attempting to

frustration I was experiencing, I found

rewire an offending wall socket that

myself gazing at my son, not with

had caused a short circuit, throwing

the love of a doting father, but with a

several rooms into darkness. Having

combination of anger and envy. I was

replaced the fuse and restored the light,

angry with him for what appeared to

I found myself in need of at least one

me as his senseless, unnecessary and

more hand than I came equipped with.

simplistic endeavor as compared to the necessary, salient and complex

pl ay issue

(at least for me) task that I was

from the tool box,« to which he

undertaking. I envied him for his

replied with an equally simple

contentment. He seemed to be totally

but somewhat curt, »I can’t.«

oblivious to anything other than his obsession with whatever his

Calmly but painfully, I repeated

infantile mind might be imagining,

my command, but receiving no

while I, whose patience had long

response at all, I raised my voice, only

ago expired, was tense with anger

to hear a more explicit, »I can’t.«

with myself as well as with him.

Oh, innocence

of

With growing frustration, I cried, »What do you mean you can’t?«

for the

youth

Oh, for the innocence of youth,

»I’m busy.« he replied with a modicum of impatience. »You’re what?« I questioned. »I’m busy.«

I thought; no demands on their

»Don’t tell me you’re busy!«

time or talents; no knowledge of

»But Dad...«

the trials and tribulations that might await them as adults.

»But Dad nothing! You’re busy doing what?«

But suddenly, the sparks from the two wires I was holding accidently

At this point there came the

coming together awakened me

lesson of my life as a parent. It was

to the task before me and the

nothing short of an epiphany, for

need I had for the pliers.

in a flash, I realized a truth that should have been oh-so-obvious.

To address that need, I simply said, »Sean, fetch me the pliers

He said simply, but with what could have been interpreted as almost a plea, ☞

One — Child’s Play

Play: A Necessity

20

21

»But Dad...

I’ve got

so

much

playing to do.

»

I smiled quietly ... tucked the wires out of danger ... sheepishly rose ... crossed the room to retrieve the pliers, and then, I quietly set about my task once more with a calm humility.

I had learned a much needed lesson about the necessity of play for children. There suddenly washed over me a new or revived revelation that curiosity and imagination are the precursors to meaningful learning, and this is what playing is all about.

It was with this revelation that I began to examine my own life.

I came to the realization that most of my life was being spent at work, listening to the dictates of my head and doing that from which I derived no joy. This, contrasted with the joy my son displayed at play in listening to the dictates of his heart, brought about a dramatic shift in my life style that took me from the dismal work of selling to the delightful play of the theatre.

As an aside, when Sean entered college, he chose, with my eager approval, to major in philosophy. I was repeatedly asked what in the world he could do with a degree in philosophy. My answer was always that with philosophy he would learn to think and that if he learned to think, he could play at anything his heart might dictate.

pl ay issue

Was I prophetic? Yes. He has gone

becoming a successful playwright,

on to become an entrepreneur with

with five of his six plays to date

his firm, Omni-Prose playing with

having been professionally produced.

innovative ideas in communications.

But then again, I must profess that

Play

he was prophetically named for that

at anything

heart

your

dictates.

great Irish playwright, Seán O’Casey.

So now, many years later, I can say with pride that my son Sean still has »so much playing to do!« ◎

He has become a political pundit with many columns and a published book to his credit. All this he has accomplished while at the same time fulfilling his father’s most fervent dream of his

Seán O’Casey (Seán Ó Cathasaigh) was an Irish dramatist and memoir ist bor n in Dublin 30th March 1880.

A committed socialist, O’Casey was the f irst Irish play w right of note to w r ite about the Dublin working classes.

His trag icomedies and plays were adapted by theatre and f ilm.

O’Casey was the author of famous I r i s h r e b e l m u s i c s t a p l e »T h e G r a n d O u l ’ Da me Br ita n n ia«. He d ied 18t h September 19 64 . ☞ watch: T he Plough and the Stars

One — Child’s Play

Play: A Necessity

What i s our de f i n i t i o n o f »f u n «? I s i t d u r in g p la y th a t we fi nd m ost pl ea s u re ? D o w e f i n d f u n i n a c h ie v e me n ts , o r ac ti v i ti es that h a v e n o a p p a re n t u s e a t all. Ca n we fin d pl eas ure i n harm i n g o r h e l p i n g o t h e rs ? J o in Mo a n d L in in thei r »fun« s tro l l a l o n g a ri v e r s o m e w h e r e o r n o wh e r e , a n d enj oy the gam e o f g u e s s i n g .

WORDS ANGUS STEWART

ILLUSTRATION LUCIE KNIGHTS

Mo Lin A first date. His name is Mo and

Lin lets him think. She locks her

her name is Lin. Where they are

hands and cracks her bony fingers.

from and where this story happens

Occasionally they pass an older man

do not particularly matter.

or woman working their way up the canalside path. Some walk aimlessly

They are walking alongside a canal at

with their hands clasped behind their

midday. At the end of the canal, where

back, while others are heaving burdens.

the water passes beneath the highway,

Some drive mopeds, and slow only feet

there is a shopping mall, and there they

before colliding with Mo and Lin.

will get lunch. Mo and Lin are both early risers. They’re both fairly serious.

While Mo stays silent beneath the rim of his hat, Lin makes a point to smile at these old aunties and uncles,

»What do you do for fun?« asks Lin. »For fun?« asks Mo, taken off guard. »Yes, for fun.« »Let me think.«

and ask where they are going.

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Most who reply name a factory,

He is bald and bold and smiling.

or the veg market beside the old

Though he’s barely beyond preschool

railway station, or their home. She

he is unsupervised, and seems free

supposes that those who are working

of fear. Lin remembers that simple

today – on a Sunday – never take a

life of games and exploration.

day off. To be still working at their

The time in childhood when there

age means they might also never take

was nothing to be embarrassed

the proverbial day off, and simply

about, and no obligations. She’s

work until their body can work no

forever reaching back for it.

more. Lin knows she is lucky. »What is something you do for »I play with my baby brother sometimes,« Mo decides eventually. »That can be for fun.«

yourself, without being told to by your parents?« Lin asks. »I watch TV,« Mo said, but sensing

»Can be?« Lin asks.

her next question, adds, »although I

»Well. I do it to help at home.«

do that with my family, in the living

»Then don’t you think

room.« Mo doesn’t think it necessary

it doesn’t count?« Mo shrugs. »I don’t know.«

to mention the things he watches on his phone. »What about you?«

They hear the far-off clamour of

»I go on dates,« said Lin, and seeing

an iron-collector. His megaphone

Mo is crestfallen throws a hand to her

is scratchy. On the opposite side of

mouth and protests: »Oh no! I mean

the canal, a small boy in a vest and

I spend time with people. I can go

shorts pedals along the path on a

with my friends to a café to play, or

shiny pink bicycle that perhaps once

meet my cousin in the park, or even

belonged to his sister, or cousin.

go somewhere with my father.« ☞

One — Child’s Play

Mo Lin

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»A date with your father…« says Mo, blankly. »You shouldn’t twist words.«

Lin smiles. »Me neither, actually.

Athletics are so dull and lonely. And team games…well, maybe you don’t

Lin folds her arms and blows air through her nose. It’s a signal for anger

know, but girls in sports teams can be really horrible to each other.«

but Mo is eternally impassive. Mo to

»Boy teams too,« Mo nods.

her seems so generally disinterested

»Oh? You have stories to tell?«

in everything around them that

»No, I’d rather not,« said Mo

Lin knows she by now has little

with finality. He’s like a mirror–

chance of getting through to him.

his eyes seem to reflect the world rather than absorb it.

Live is a permanent salvage job.

Lin supresses a groan. »How about athletics, like sprinting or long distance?« »No fun at all.«

But Lin also knows anything can

Lin nods in turn. Then she points.

be salvaged. She knows that the iron

There’s man on the far shore,

scrapper knows it too. If you can

wearing black. He’s still as a statue.

salvage iron from the scrapheap, you

He’s crouched and seems to be on

can salvage a walk by the canal, surely.

the lookout for something. Mo and Lin follow the man’s gaze.

Like the working life of a

»The boy on the bike,« says Lin.

countryside peasant, life is a permanent salvage job.

She is right. The man is watching the boy, who has u-turned and is

»So do you do any sports, for fun?« she tries.

pedalling back along the way he came.

He is still bald, bold, and smiling. ☞

Mo swallows. »I don’t.«

One — Child’s Play

Mo Lin

26

27

The boy seems not to see the

Lin looks to Mo, but he’s already

squatting man, perhaps because

gone. He’s wading out across the

there are bushes and branches which

water. Then he’s horizontal, cutting

may be blocking his line of sight,

through to reach the struggling boy.

or perhaps simply because he is

His strange cowboy hat lies in the dust

carefree and not paying attention.

next to her. Lin blinks at it. Then she looks up to see Mo reaching the boy

»Father and son?« Mo speculates.

before the latter vanishes beneath the

»Who knows,« replies Lin.

waterline. Mo hooks an arm around

»Right.«

the boy and in a frenzy of white water Mo drags him ashore. Mo staggers,

Mo and Lin keep on walking, but

coughs, then goes after the thief.

when the boy draws level with the

At first he’s hobbling and tripping,

squatting man they stop and stare.

but soon he’s running at full tilt.

The man springs from his heels and grabs at the bicycle frame. The little

Lin can hardly believe what she’s

boy squawks in fear and swerves to

seeing. She calls out to the boy to ask

avoid his attacker, but he overbalances,

if he’s okay. Through a few bravely

tips, and detaches from the saddle,

choked sobs the little boy replies that

then he tumbles down into the

yes, he’s okay, and now he’s going to

canal. There is a splash and the man

go and catch the bad man. The boy

in black now suspends an empty

is old enough to know that if he says

bicycle frame in air. He stares at the

something he should do it, so he

drowning boy for one long moment

shakes his arms a little to dry off, then

before he runs away down the

begins his own stubby-legged spring

canalside path toward the shopping

down the path, following Mo and

mall, clinging the stolen bicycle.

the thief toward the shopping mall.

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Lin watches them all go. Then

All is as good as silent. The

she wakes from the spell, pulls

criminal – apprehended – is not in

her iPhone from her pocket,

the McDonalds. He’s not anywhere.

and dials for the police.

Lin slurps her own cola a little too loud. This seems to prompt the

Later Mo and Lin are at the shopping

thin policeman into speech.

mall, sitting opposite two policemen at a cramped McDonalds dining table. They hadn’t planned on such an

»So, mister…« »You can call me Mo,« says Mo,

unhealthy meal – or such generous

almost – but not quite – as indifferent

portions – but the policemen had

as he had been at the waterside.

insisted. Mo has their towel wrapped

Irritation crosses the thin policeman’s

around his shoulders and he is

face. »Alright, mister Mo,« he begins.

making a start on his fries. Lin is

»We’d like to learn about why

wearing his cowboy hat, though she

you chose to give chase today.«

can’t remember how it got there.

»Okay.« Mo’s face like glass. »More specifically we’d like to

The policemen are quiet. The fat

know if you have any connection

one is eating a burger, and seems in

to that boy over there, or the man

deep bliss. The thin one just sits and

who tried to steal his bike.«

looks ahead, wearing a light smile.

Occasionally he sips his cola. Not far off, at another table, the little

»None whatsoever.« »And are you sure about that?« The thin policeman narrows his eyes.

boy sits wrapped in his own towel

»Oh yes. Very sure.«

opposite a kind-faced policewoman.

»Very sure. Right.«

The boy is bent over, devouring his third box of chicken nuggets.

»We’ll check it,« the fat policeman intones knowingly. ☞

One — Child’s Play

Mo Lin

28

29

»Okay,« said Mo. Blanker than ever. »Okay.« The policeman gave a curt nod.

»…well, I’m a strong swimmer, a fast sprinter, and I have enough kung fu and self-defence skills to safely subdue a bicycle thief.«

»So. Mo. Your pursuit was quite

He rests two open hands on the

a dangerous one. And since both

table, simulating diplomacy. From

yourself and Miss Lin were in

beneath the rim of the cowboy hat it

possession of working mobile

all seems too ridiculous to Lin. She

phones with which you might have

chokes and spits a little of her cola over

called us immediately, it was also

the table. The hat falls off her head.

technically unnecessary. Perhaps you

»Madam?« asks the fat policeman.

had a personal reason for wishing to apprehend the thief single-handed?«

He’s smirking mischievously, though he couldn’t have been in on

Mo smiles a little. Perhaps he enjoys the policeman’s courtly language.

the same joke as Lin. Could he? She turns to her so-called date. »Mo, you

»Something’s funny?«

told me you don’t do any sports!

»No, no,« said Mo, killing the grin.

No team games, no solo sports,

»It’s just…I did it firstly because

no swimming, no running, no

the boy needed help, and second

sprinting – that’s what you said!«

because nobody else nearby could reasonably act to help him. Therefore I had to act. And as the danger… well, I don’t mean to brag, sir…« »You may brag,« the thin cop says, quite serious.

Mo turned to Lin. »Oh I do those things. Just not for fun.« ◎

pl ay issue

Def. »f un«: amusement, enjoyment, pleasure; playful, often noisey activity.

Ethymology: from Middle English »fonnen« (mak e a fool of ) or »fon« (s imple, s illy).

Probably of North Ger manic or igin, related to Swedish »fånig«, »fåne« and Nor wegian »fomme«, »f ume«. A s a noun, »f un« is recorded f rom 1700 with a meaning »a cheat, tr ick, hoa x« (168 0 s).

T he meaning »diversion, amusement« dates back to the 1720s. T he older meaning is preser ved in the phrase »to make f un of« (1737) and in the adjective f unny. T he use of

»f un«

as adjective is newest and is due to reanalysis of the noun; this was incipient in the middle of 19th centur y. source : wikipedia.com

One — Child’s Play

Mo Lin

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Grand Theft WORDS DAN RYDER

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up down cross circle left right right blahblahblah gets you a chainsaw or flamethrower to reap havoc on your city’s civilians but even those inscriptions inputted from scrap paper only prolonged busted or wasted or the inevitable pause when the phone rings or the circuit breaker outs

One — Child’s Play

Grand Theft

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35

H e a t h u n f o l d s th e th e r a p e u tic a n d s o c i o - re f l e c t i v e a s p e c ts o f v id e o g a min g ; H o w p l a y i n g o n l i n e s u ms u p mo d e r n - d a y n a rc i s s i s m a n d i s o l atio n wh ile fu n c tio n in g a s a v a l v e f o r str e s s ; Ho w it c a n b e c a g e a n d ke y a t th e s a me time .

Funny Monster A t ime is co m i n g , an d i n f act h as co m e , wh e n y o u w i l l b e s ca t t e re d, e ach t o y o u r o w n h o m e . - Joh n 16 : 3 2

The Old German word »bur« refers to

There is a sense of anxiety

a house or a place to reside; however, it

that pervades contemporary

also can be used to describe a cage or a

life. Ivor Southwood describes

cell. I currently live in Norway which

it as the following:

uses the verb »bor« to refer to »living, residing« and the slight variation bur translates as a cage for poultry.

»A sort of low-level or latent precarity, as experienced by myself and many others, is now a fixture

This is no etymological accident

of everyday life, both taken-for-

for agoraphobics, the house-bound,

granted and uncanny, immanent and

the anxious and the self-imprisoned.

untraceable; a vague electrical hum,

The modern flat is often the setting

hardly worth mentioning, too trivial

for the fluid identity construction

to be worth complaining about (›it’ll

of contemporary individuals; social

only be for a while«, »at least I have

media-obsessed, engaged in all

a job«, »it’s the same for everyone«,

manners of self-care, self-coupling,

»that’s just the way things are‹).1«

self-augmentation and self-modelling.

WORDS NOEL HEATH

ILLUSTRATION TONY ALLEN

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Alongside many others I had been

attempted to artificially replace

deceived into thinking modern

kinships with digital ones, all from

anxiety was unique to the individual

the same seat in the living room.

instead of as a common attribute to post-Fordist capitalism. Peter

Indeed, Sloterdijk says: ›the

Sloterdijk in his Spharen trilogy has

apartment can be understood as

managed to outline in depth the

the studio of self-relationships or a

way individuals today relate to their

nursing home for indeterminacies.‹4

surroundings and their environment. 2

Sloterdijk’s main argument in the final part of his trilogy is essentially

Sloterdijk says, »only now is the

this: if every man is an island, and

divide between the narcissistic other of

everything else is instantly available

self-reflection and transcendent other

to us via modern technology, human

of real or failed encounters becoming

existence becomes dispersed foam-like

apparent in a general, public fashion.«3

into the world. »The self-doubling of the individual into himself, and the

In my case this sense of anxiety has

multitude of virtual inner others, has

been heightened by recent events in

become epidemic. ›Being together‹

which I moved away from friends,

is transferred, in this case, to the

family and familiar surroundings

ongoing changing of the conditions

to a small town in Norway.

in which the individual experiences

Jobless and friendless I cultivated

himself. In order for the realization

my relationship to myself through

of self-pairing to take place, the

social media, I created a virtual life

media that can be identified as ego-

for myself via my PlayStation4 and

technologies are a prerequisite.«5 ☞

Ivo r S o ut h wo o d , N o n- S t o p In e r t i a (Z e r o B o o k s, 2 0 1 1 ), p. 1 9 Pe t e r S l o t e rd ij k , Fo a m s (S e mi o t e x t(e), 2 0 1 6); 3 S l o t e rd ij k , Fo a m s, p. 543- 54 4; 4 Sloterdijk, Foams, p. 547; 5 Peter Sloterdijk, »Cell Block, E g o s p h e r e s , S e lf- C o nt a i n e r s «, L o g , N o . 1 0 (S umm e r/ F a l l 2 0 0 7 ), p . 9 7 1

2

One — Child’s Play

Funny Monster

The ego-technologies which I

The remainder of this article

engaged in are somewhat synonymous

attempts to deconstruct whether

with Western life – Facebook,

online gaming can be a solution

Twitter, Instagram. Without my

or a further danger to experienced

close friends and family in direct

anxieties, how GTA V altered the

proximity, which as Sloterdijk

perception of my own identity and

highlights is the »primary living

dizzying modern phenomena.

community since time immemorial«, my relationships became dissolved in favour of the symbiosis between me, myself and my environment.6

Whelmed in dark riot I follow one of my idols to a busy intersection in Morningwood and stand transfixed

An individual on their own is

as he hacks to death an innocent

always in bad company and anxious

bystander. I film everything from

thoughts and musings are often a

the pedestrians running in terror

result. The palliative care I treated

from the bloody scene, to the police

myself to, an avoidance or escapism

cordoning off the intersection, to my

from job applications and the general

fellow crew members joining in the

drudgery of small-town life was

carnivalesque theatre of violence.

to play Grand Theft Auto V on the PlayStation4. I have been playing

I am connected to my fellow voyeurs

around 20 hours per week and

via headset, in a ›party‹ chat group

GTA V enabled me to talk to my

session and we are inside the chaotic

brother in New York, friends back

world of Grand Theft Auto Online7,

home and at a later stage play

following our leader, the Scottish

alongside a comedic idol of mine,

comedian Brian ›Limmy‹ Limond as

the Scottish comedian Limmy.

he exorcises some aspect of modern

S lot e rdij k , » C ell B lo ck «, p. 9 7; 7 Subseq ue ntly refe r red t o a s GTA O nline Mi k h a i l B a k ht in, R a b el a i s a n d Hi s Wo r l d (In d i a n a U ni ve r s it y P ress, 1 9 8 4 ), p. 49; 9 Slavoj Zizek, T he Per vert’s Guide to Cinema, Directed by Sophie Fiennes.

P Guide Ltd, 2006 6

8

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day middle-class boredom out of

between pixels and actual people,

himself through his avatar. Limmy is

or the cathartic effects of indulging

clearly enjoying himself, guffawing

into violent acts to purge some

and chatting with his YouTube live

negativity or stress from within.

stream audience, commenting on the brutal events unfolding on-screen.

Walt Whitman, a gamer before his time crystallised this sentiment:

Mikhail Bakhtin said in his

»I contain multitudes.« One

famous study of carnivals that »in

camp upholds the real of tangible

the grotesque world the id[entity]

effects of digital violence, the

is uncrowned and transformed

other camp upholds the illusory

into a ›funny monster‹.« What I

nature of this facade. Can we not

experience does appear to my eyes to

posit a third way and ›see not the

be a grotesque spectacle, entertaining

reality behind the illusion but

and bloody and intoxicating. Not

the reality in illusion itself?‹9

8

unlike so-called ›real-life‹ riots.

There is a tangible aspect to There do appear to be two broad

the very notion of fantasmatic or

camps when discussing video game

cathartic expulsion of contemporary

violence. The detractors on the one

anxieties via video gaming even if it

hand argue and highlight studies that

is ultimately futile or self-defeating.

point to a direct correlation between

Video games can function as a medium

fictionalised game violence and its

of loneliness, an intersection between

negative psychological impact on

our structured and situated actual

the player, on the other, players and

selves and our invented, yearning,

supporters of video games underline

self-created social media identities.

their hyper-awareness of the difference

☞

One — Child’s Play

Funny Monster

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Furthermore, video games can

Our depersonalised relationships

reflect modern life as we live in

occur when sphere walls brush up

pockets of co-isolation and co-

against one another to create a foam

fragility connected to vast networks.

pattern of apartment buildings, gated communities, shopping outlets, gyms,

Indeed, as one scholar puts it:

airports and CCTV-monitored public

»Grand Theft Auto’s topographies

spaces. Our co-isolated apartments

become stages upon which to act out

function as insulators, immune

modes of compensation for the extreme

systems, dispensers of comfort and

instability of position (subject position,

sources of distance. The apartment

financial status, fluidity of identity)

grants access to only selected particles,

associated with modern life.«10

sounds, sensations, purchases, discoveries, and guests. We select the

Sloterdijk also argues that

world we want to see and hear yet

contemporary existence is a spatial

we share ownership of isolation and

process. We build and inhabit

loneliness through our shared walls.12

ensouled bubbles or spheres from within and share this reality with

When playing GTA V Online

other ensouled bubbles in a networked

disembodied voices rupture our self-

foam of urban life. Our sphere »is

contained units and we are reminded

the intimate, enclosed and shared

of our co-fragility, how easy it is

round shape, spread out through

for the other to become situated in

joint inhabiting«, furthermore it

our daily lives. The anonymity that

is a »socially created, selfanimated

lies behind a user name or an avatar

space, in which a commonality of

has opened the door to profanity,

experiences is rendered possible and

prejudicial views and spam. Yet the

where human beings find protective

door remains open, and understanding,

refuge from the outside world.«11

solidarity and kindness also enter.

Soraya Mur ray, »High Art/ Low Life: T he Ar t of Playing ›Grand T heft Auto‹«, PAJ: A Jour nal of Perfor mance and A r t , Vol . 2 7 , N o. 2 (M ay, 2 0 0 5 ), p . 9 7 ; 11 S l o t e r d i j k , F o a m s , p .

5 6 4 - 5 6 5 ; 12 S l o t e r d i j k , Foams, p p . 3 3 0 - 4 6 7 ; 13 J a y D a v i d B o l t e r and Richard Grusin quoted in, Patr ick Osbor ne, »Evaluating the Presence of Social Strain in Rockstar Games ›Grand T heft Auto IV‹, Studies in Popular Culture (Vol. 34, No. 1 (Fall 2 0 1 1 ), p. 1 1 8 10

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The landscape of GTA Online satirizes our commodity-driven, advertisingobsessed, massively unequal society with its own mocking self-aware

An online lobby, chat or party is

adverts, radio shows, corporations

the arena where these tensions play

and hate-filled politicians. The GTA

out. It’s confusing, male-dominated,

world is fully aware of the flipside

a swirl of micro-interactions between

to such societal distortions, one

each player, their avatar and their

of empty bourgeois-bohemian,

fellow players. Yet it reflects and

lifestyle resistance through shallow

provides a commentary on realities

gestures and bogus spirituality.

beyond the screen, a world that is male-orientated, where we are

When one completed GTA V’s

connected yet rarely connect, where

gaming predecessor you received

we are constantly bombarded with

little reward except an ironic text

images, information and data.

message that addressed these reallife tensions: »Pilgrim, Expand your

Other scholars have discussed GTA’s

horizons ... travel the inner path

surprisingly astute commentary on

that will allow you to unlock your

hypermediacy. This is defined »as

inner spirit guide and know the full

a heterogeneous space, in which

potential of earthly splendour that is

representation is conceived of not

your right as a GOLDEN DHARMA

as a window on to the world, but

GOD. THESE SECRETS will allow

rather ›windowed‹ itself—with

you to read between the lines of

windows that open on to other

society, physics and logic. THE MAN

representations or other media.«13

is trying to keep you down. ☞

One — Child’s Play

Funny Monster

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41

He has built this world as your

character to the barbers or a clothing

cage. BREAK FREE. You have been shown the gateway, walk through it.

Feel the Truth. Live the Freedom.«

14

outlet to change my appearance.

This individualised self-care has been discussed by Sloterdijk, he notes: »No matter how much they pretend

The illusion speaks through

to be connected with others and with

reality, our methods and mediums

the outside, they primarily round

of resistance to rampant capitalism

themselves off onto themselves.«

have been decoded, reassembled

Solidarity is fleeting and often

and resold back to us via lifestyle

discarded for selfish self-enhancement,

consumption. GTA Online makes

we are connected yet rarely connect.

this illusion transparent, widescreen and interactive.

In another popular current game, Dark Souls 3, a player can touch an

Playing online, one gets a definite

animated bloodstain and witness in

sense of carnivalesque mocking

real-time, the silent ghostly apparition

of the game’s more elite players, a

of a fellow unknown player’s demise at

shared critique of those dominating

the precise location the player stands.

less experienced gamers. One

No name is given, no age, location or

engages in a degree of shared psychic

gender. All we know is that they died

ventilation or an airing of grievances

here. In a game priding itself on its

before one willingly or unwillingly

difficulty (a player may die hundreds

gets disconnected, placed in a new

of times at a particular moment before

map or kicked off the server.

an enemy is finally vanquished) and

When I am separated from online

its ceaseless drive towards nihilistic

friends or Limmy’s crew, I find myself

abyss, self-imagined psychic lines

alone in a new map and I take my

of solidarity and sympathy build up

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between unknown players as they

This produces a simultaneous

learn from one another’s mistakes.

isolation where each cell defines a world of its own and a state of

This relationship is a fleeting

co-fragility since the annihilation

moment of shared experience,

of one cell will also affect its

there is no relation outside of this

neighbouring cells.«15

moment. This is an example of Peter Sloterdijk’s analysis of the foam

In the world of GTA Online the

structure of contemporary life.

cell walls between myself and my

We live in »the spatial structure of

character, between the subject

foam each individual cell shares

and object temporarily dissolve.

a wall with its adjacent cells.

☞

Osborne, »Social Strain«, p. 129; Peter Sloterdijk quoted in: F r a n c i s c o R . K l a u s e r, » S p l i n t e r i n g spheres of secur ity: Peter Sloterdijk and the contemporary fortress city«, Environment and Planning: Society a n d Sp a c e ( Vol , 2 8 , 2 0 1 0), p. 3 3 0 14 15

One — Child’s Play

Funny Monster

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43

It is common for one’s avatar to

In summary, playing GTA

share similar characteristics and

Online offers no clear solutions to

appearance with the player. Certain

contemporary anxieties, nor is it

enhancements in fitness, height,

escapism from reality. In a world in

and muscularity are to be expected,

which problems and solutions are

however, other enhancements are

harder to differentiate, what the GTA

the result of a lack. My character

Online experience offers is a platform

lacks the stress and anxiety that

in which complex contemporary

affects the player and it is through my

processes of anxiety-formation, shared

playing that my character becomes

isolation and self-identification can

an extension of myself, a medium

be reflected back on us, unravelled

in which I can transpose certain

and explored for further holes.

negative emotions or cathartically empty myself of inner tensions.

Shared auditory and visual experience played out by self-

Kierkegaard once said that »for

engineered characters can be

levelling really to come about a

rewarding and damaging at the

phantom must first be provided,

same time, an intoxicating flux,

its spirit, a monstrous abstraction,

akin to how contemporary life is

an all encompassing something

continuously unfolding and splitting

that is nothing, a mirage.«16

and remoulding. It translates the monstrous into the commonplace. ◎

Sø ren Kierkegaard, »Two Ages: T he Age of Revolution And T he Present Age. A Literary Review«, T he Essential Kierkegaard (Princeton University P ress, 2 0 0), p. 2 6 1 16

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G ran d T h ef t A ut o (G TA )

T hese acts include sexual

is an action-adventure

intercourse with prostitutes

video game series set in

to restore the character's

fictional locales modelled

health with possible

o n c it ies li k e Ne w Yo rk

subsequent murder of the

City, Miami, and the state

prostitute to get some of

Califor nia .

their money back.

T he player is set in an open

According to T he Guinness

world, being able to choose

World R ecord s 2 0 0 8/0 9

missions to progress an

Gamer's Edition it is the

overall story, engage in side-

most controversial video game

stories, driving, third-person

ser ies in history, with over

shooting, stealth, and racing.

4000 articles published about

T he antagonists are commonly

it, which include accusations

characters who have betrayed

of glamorising violence,

the protagonist, or characters

corrupting gamers, and

who have the most impact

connection to real life cr imes.

impending the protagonist's progress.

Controversies were built around the heroisation of cr iminals, glor if ication of violent acts while dealing with little or no consequences.

One — Child’s Play

Funny Monster

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47

f rom Identity Dreams and Memor y Sounds ( E k s t a s i s E d it i o n s, 2 0 1 4 ), a n d f ir s t p u b li s h e d in the poet r y chapbook W he re War F ind s You (HMS Press, London, Ontar io, Canada, 2008)

I Fo r ge t W h o Was on Whose WORDS J.J. STEINFELD

ILLUSTRATION NICOLAI DIEKMAN

Side

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a long-ago schoolyard game of war a battlefield or battleground, rebuilt in recollection, words even now carrying and constructing memory I forget who was on whose side what the objectives were we being young and blood-thirsty unaware of formal tactics and strategies or a warlike nature in historical hearts and minds belligerent and combative words unknown to our childish artlessness none of us had yet read Lord of the Flies or Nineteen Eighty-Four or All Quiet on the Western Front looked through the lenses of disquieting authors not a single poem by a forgiving or an unforgiving poet or even dabbled in cynicism or worldly sorrow we were kids playing the primordial, the language rudimentary, too young to kill, too old to forgive

☞

One — Child’s Play

I Forget Who Was on Whose Side

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49

following the leader, falling into place, I remember that and I remember one boy in particular because someone thought he was effeminate, aloof, and another boy, as fierce as a movie warrior, led a mid-morning raid on the remarkable-bodied noncombatant I yelled for them to stop retreat, surrender, unavailing adult words, and I was relieved that looks were not knives or I would have bled to death that night I heard my father say Europe is far away and Hitler is dead but my father did not sound safe

â—Ž

One — Child’s Play

I Forget Who Was on Whose Side

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51

WORDS AMELIA KING

ILLUSTRATION MAITA HAJIIOANNIDOU

D e r e k’s J a w U n d e rn e a t h t h e k i t c h e n s in k in a y e llo w c a rd b o a rd b o x m y D a d k e p t De r e k ' s ja w. . .

i.

He told us once when we were on

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reached up and took Derek’s old jaw

holiday and the car had broken down,

in the cups of his hands. He wrenched

that it had been stolen from a skeleton

and it broke with a crack like a whip,

when he was twelve years old.

leaving bone dust to swirl in the

Blue sea was over the hill and

new empty space. Tension broken they ran, of course, from nothing.

from the sky fell rain that pattered on the windows. Joseph and I wore

For many weeks after the jaw was

our seatbelts undone and lorries

passed about, secreted in school

went passed that rattled loud. Our

bags and exchanged behind trees,

mother sighed, and read her book.

held and laughed at and danced on sticks. But later it was nothing,

Over his headrest Dad leaned to

just a bit of old bone, and it fell

face us on the back seat, and said how

to my Dad who hid it under his

when he was young it was normal for

bed, where it grinned through the

schools to have a full yellow skeleton

mattress and into his dreams.

hanging from a frame. This was so you could look at the shape of things, and

All through school and college and

work out where the muscles go. The

the life that came after, our Dad kept

one in my Dad’s classroom had been

the jaw in one place or another. He

a sailor apparently, called Derek.

liked to think of its owner, the sailor, out on ocean all those years ago.

And then one summer’s evening, long

And he wondered where the rest got

since the school bell rang, a group of

to, if the skeleton’s buried jawless,

boys crept back to their classroom and

now that plastics have come in.

crowded around. They were noisy and loud but they quietened, as the tallest

Me and Joseph ate car mints and I felt every one of my young bones glowing. ☞

One — Child’s Play

Derek's Jaw

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53

ii.

We found it of course, as Dad had

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landing on the tiles. Grabbing the jaw

probably intended. And in spare half

Joe ran to the sink, and it was back

hours whilst the babysitter slept, we

in its box when Mum came though

would take it out from its box and hold

the door. The tooth I snatched up

it up to our chins. Young skin against

and put in my pocket where it poked

old bone. Small fingers clutching

into my leg when I sat down for tea.

gruesome teeth, poking them and making them talk. I’d put the jaw to

Later, horrified, we wondered what

my own and wiggle my shoulders,

to do. Teeth when we lost them went

dancing round the kitchen, making

into the tooth jar, which was kept in

Joe laugh. It was the hero and the

mum’s wardrobe on a shelf at the top.

bad guy, and a secret for us to keep.

Dropping them in and then closing the lid was like blowing out candles, and

It became our favourite toy

we were proud of the achievement.

perhaps because we sensed it was

Derek’s tooth could not go in there; it

the wrong thing to play with. It

was huge and old. But neither would

contained a larger, darker note of

it fit back into the jaw. And it felt bad

danger. It was hidden and we were

to bury it outside, and even worse to

uncovering it. But then somewhere

bin it, or wash it down the sink. We

along the line of things, Dad had

were seven and nothing made much

been like us and played with it too.

sense in itself but there were rules to follow and it wasn’t good to adlib.

One afternoon, as Joe paraded about with Derek clenched to his face,

And so into the jar went the tooth,

the sound of a front door opening

when again our parent’s were at

tightened in the air. Panicked, Joe

work. Joseph kept guard at the door

leapt into space and collided with the

and I stood on a chair and dropped

table and out of the collision flew a

it in but it looked wrong there.

great ugly tooth, arching above us and

☞

One — Child’s Play

Derek's Jaw

54

55

It was large and grey where the others were small. It raised its prongs above the choppy sea of white. We closed the wardrobe door and dreaded.

iii.

When the time came we had almost

forgotten. It had been weeks and Joe was eating some toast but he stopped and caught my eye and all of a sudden I knew. He ate carefully for days but he knew he was done for. When the tooth finally came out we both cried, and mum couldn’t understand it.

We’ll put it in the jar, she said, and go have some hot chocolate. Up the stairs to the wardrobe and down came the jar. I held my breath and Joe wept and there was the tooth, loud and enormous. I couldn’t see Mum’s face but she shook the teeth onto her hand and laid them out and there were small ones, tiny ones and then Derek’s and we flinched and looked away.

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We waited and after a long time or a short time Mum said in her normal voice, »Put yours in then.« Joe and I looked up and the teeth were all back in the jar and Joe was dropping his in, bewildered. And Mum said, »Come on you two,« as she was closing the lid, »let’s go get some hot chocolate.« And I checked and saw Derek’s tooth there with the others, but she was putting the jar back on the shelf anyway and saying, »Come on, I’m going to tell you two a story.« ◎

One — Child’s Play

Derek's Jaw

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Sudoku’s really an addictive game, Once it’s got hold of you it won’t let go; You finish one round and it’s just the same, You’ve started the second before you know.

Even if you want to break free and go

WORDS GARY BECK

ILLUSTRATION LIV D´CRUZ

Sudoku

It’s caught you fast no matter how you came; You can call it highbrow or call it low, Sudoku’s really an addictive game.

To spend my life like this is not my aim But my heart’s stolen and I can’t say, No; To break free now would be to rend and maim, Once it’s got hold of you it won’t let go.

I stopped once, but like a boomerang throw It came back and hit me, this wretched game, And whether you complete it fast or slow, You finish one round and it’s just the same.

Now I’m resigned, I have no one to blame; I’ll live my life like this until I go, No excuses, I know that they sound lame – You’ve started the second before you know.

An addictive game.

One — Child’s Play

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Two T h e G a m e s We P l a y PLAY ME SHOULD WE PLAY CASINO DISTRACT & CONQUER COWBOY PLEASING THINGS CALIFORNIA CULT DREAMING PLAY PARTIES THERE ARE MANY WAYS TO SCORE PROXY

60

61

Part Two. Relationships. Sex. Addiction.

The Games We Play are a high-wire act, a whisper in a dark room, the consumption of a more or less legal substance, a gamble with life or money, involve either just ourselves or a stranger, catapult us into different spheres, communities, mind sets.

Often we would not even realise that we play until we're right in the middle of it. Stuck, or liberated. The games we play can be essential to our mental health, exploring our own self, not following society's guidelines, rules, life lines. Playing with others can form strong bonds, or break hearts. It can make us judge ourselves more, or become more open-minded.

We are passionate advocates for taking risks, pushing ourselves over the edge and drinking life in big gulps.

We are prophets of denial, we lay testimony of our own mistakes, we are world champions in getting back on our feet. We are often together in feeling lost. Are we not painfully beautiful in our combined flaws and passions? â—Ž

Two — The Games We Play

Introduction

62

63

play me WORDS ALEX C. RENWICK

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play me like a record over & over like a record over like a & over

Two — The Games We Play

play me

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S h o u l d We P l a y WORDS SHARON TULLY ODYSSEOS ILLUSTRATION JOANNA SIMPSON

Should we play while children cry Should we play while countries die Is this the hope for humanity The chance to play instead of see Could pretending be the key To bring a touch of sanity To play to play to make some dreams So all is not seen as it seems And for a while a precious while Allow the crying child to smile And see the world with a better eye Should we play while children cry?

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WORDS JACQUELINE SEEWALD

ILLUSTRATION JOHN MOLESWORTH

Casino A stor y a b o u t re g re t , l o n e l i n e s s , f r ie n d s h ip , luck, and t h e p o s s i b i l i t y o f a h a p p y e n d in g .

Before my husband died, we’d go to

On the surface, it appears the casinos

Atlantic City maybe once a month.

benevolently bestow a glittering

Larry claimed it was an excellent

mecca where senior citizens may

antidote to boredom. He called

enjoy the fruits of their golden

it the great escape, fantasy-land,

years. The bus ride down to A.C. is

Disney for adults. I was skeptical,

an experience in itself. During the

but now that I’m alone, I take the

course of the bus trip, I speak to

bus to A.C. once a week. It’s become

several people, mostly regulars.

a ritual for me. I know that sounds pathetic, but that’s just how it is.

Sitting opposite me is an elderly gentleman, nicknamed Little Joe,

There are a lot of lonely older people,

who states that his near daily

widows and widowers, divorced

pilgrimage is the best thing in his

or never married, who are looking

life. Although he’s lost most of

for something to fill their lives.

his savings, he has no regrets.

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»The casino threw a birthday party

»I won’t be leaving much to my

in my honor. Can you imagine? They

children. I told them not to wait

gave me a free stay in a suite and

around like vultures for me to die.

meals at the best restaurants in the

I’m going to enjoy what money I

hotel. Made me feel like a king.«

have. Let them earn their own!«

There are tears in his pale, rheumy eyes.

I notice the tee shirt she is wearing proclaiming: I’m spending my children’s inheritance!

»The way I look at it, my wife is dead and I don’t have children to leave any money. So I might as well spend

At the last stop in Lakewood, the bus becomes more crowded.

it in Atlantic City as anywhere.« »Anyone sitting here?« A man A white-haired lady with

of about thirty-five, somewhat

gaunt cheekbones named Emma

rough-edged in appearance

agrees with him. She leans over

has spoken to me. ☞

to pat Little Joe’s hand.

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He is dressed in flannel shirt, faded denim jeans and looks weary.

I stand and let him take the window seat. I am about to read a paperback novel for the rest of the trip, but Emma and Little Joe aren’t willing

There are only two kinds of winners: liars & casino owners

to end our conversation just yet. »I’m sorry,« I say. »Do a lot of gambling?« Little Joe asks me.

»Don’t be. Wasn’t such a great job.

I work construction. It’s seasonal for

»Not really. I like a change of scene, to get away. There are some

the most part. There’ll be other jobs.

So today I’ll try my luck in A.C.«

other things to do in A.C.,« I say. »Like walk by the ocean.«

»You shouldn’t waste your money,« I say. »There are only two kinds of

»Is there an ocean out there?«

people who claim they’re winners

Emma jokes, »I hadn’t noticed.«

in A.C.: liars and casino owners.«

»I take it you’re not a nature

»I don’t get out of joint if

lover,« the man next to me says to

people express different opinions

her. His earthy brown eyes twinkle.

than me. Free country, right?

I’m Rob by the way,« the young

»We don’t see many young people

man says. »And you are?«

going down on the bus during the week,« Little Joe observes. »Yeah, well, I’m celebrating the fact that I got laid off my job.«

»Sara.« »So what bothers you about A.C., Sara?« ☞

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»Too many people spending

embarrassment. I open my novel

their Social Security or welfare

and try to slip into the story. I look

checks on gambling. Those who

up to see Rob grimly watching the

can least afford it often gamble

scenery go by like the flickering

the most. Because gambling has

frames of an old time movie. I try

become increasingly socially

to read again but find it hard to

acceptable, serious addictions

concentrate and soon look up to

are growing. Funny how it

see the sign announcing that we

doesn’t draw the same censure

have entered the Pine Barrens.

as drug or alcohol addiction.« Rob stares at me. »You a teacher or something? I mean you really talk like one.«

Like the flickering frames of an old time movie.

I feel my face start to flush and heat. »Sorry, guess I got

»Nice down in the south,«

a little carried away. And yes,

Rob says. »Wouldn’t mind

I used to teach English.«

living here if there was more work. You work?« he asks.

»Lady, you should run for politics. You got such passionate concern.«

I shake my head. »I took early retirement. My husband was dying and needed care.«

»Get off your soapbox!« Little Joe points his index finger at me.

»You don’t look old enough to retire.« He turns his head to one

Do I come off sounding selfrighteous? I am mortified with

side giving me a speculative look.

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»I turned fifty last month.«

thinking of selling the house. It holds too many memories that cause

»You look younger.«

me pain. I might be better off living somewhere else. The house was

Not knowing what to say, I try to read my novel again.

meant for people with children. It’s right near an elementary school.

My children used to walk to school

»Where do you live?« When

from there when they were little.«

I don’t respond immediately, he speaks again. »Hey, I didn’t mean I

»You miss having kids around?«

wanted to know your address. You

He gives me a perceptive look,

probably think ‘cause my name

no longer looking as rough-

is Rob I might rob people.« His

edged as he did before.

tone is half-joking, half-serious. »I do.« »I don’t believe in name symbolism.« »I thought all English teachers thought in literary symbols. What I wanted to ask was: do you live

We could both use some company.

in a house or an apartment?« »A house.«

»I think my old lady said good riddance when I moved out.

»Your husband’s dead? You

But I guess the world has all

need any work done? I got

kinds of people, right? There’s all

time and I’m real handy.«

kinds of places to live too. You know, we’ve built some real nice

»No, I don’t need anything done right now. As a matter of fact, I’m

condos for senior citizens – not that you’re one of them.« ☞

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»Thanks, Rob, but I’m

»Yes,« I respond somewhat hesitantly.

not exactly a kid.« The buffet we settle on is imitation »As old as you feel, they say.«

Tudor in design, beige stucco walls and dark, wooden beams across the

»Well, I don’t feel much like a

ceiling. It’s an updated cafeteria,

senior yet. The problem is, I don’t feel

large and impersonal. A waitress

much like anything in particular. I’m

dressed in uniform hurries over to

sort of in suspended animation.«

ask if she can take our beverage order.

Rob wastes no time in getting to the

»Me too. What do you say, we

food. He digs in hungrily, quickly

hang out together today?« His

demolishing beefsteak, baked potato

imploring look surprises me.

and roll. I pick at some salad, feeling too uncomfortable to eat very much.

»I’m not sure.« As I watch Rob walk back to the »We could both use some company,

buffet for another plate of food, I

some cheering up. I want someone to

wonder what I am doing here with

talk with, someone who’ll listen, and

this total stranger. It seems absurd.

maybe even care, even pretending to care would be enough. See it’s not just you who feels out of it. Why

Probably Sartre would have appreciated the irony but I do not.

don’t we eat together when we hit A.C. I got enough cash for that.«

»You got much family?« Rob asks, returning with a fresh plate of food.

»Dutch treat only.« »Not anymore.« »Even better, so you’ll come?«

☞

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»Me neither. What

»Just like that?«

about your kids?« »Why not? When you need »My boys live far away, one in California, the other in Chicago.

friends, when you really want them, you find them.«

The younger one travels a lot for business. They have their own lives, their own families and friends. Every

He smiles and a dimple winks in his cheek giving him a boyish quality.

once in a while, they remember to call. And I call them, usually on Sundays. But they are very busy.« I don’t tell him how sad I feel about

Sometimes strangers make the best friends.

it, but I can see he understands. »Sometimes, strangers make »Sometimes friends can make up for that. You got friends?«

the best kind of friends. You can say things to strangers that you can’t say to family.«

»Not really. Larry and I were so close. I married him when I turned twenty. He was my best friend.«

»I suppose that’s true. My children don’t want to hear that I’m lonely.

It makes them feel guilty.«

»Well, they say a person can never have too many friends.«

»My point exactly. You’re healthy and attractive, Sara. You can start a whole new life.«

His eyes catch mine and suddenly, we both begin to laugh. It is spontaneous

»At my age?«

and I can’t explain why we laugh, only that we do. »So let’s be friends.«

»At any age. It doesn’t matter.«

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»If only I had the courage.« »If you got the money, you can find the courage.« His statement startles me. »You think money is that important?«

You can make your life better.

He puts one large, callused hand over mine. »Don’t be sorry, ‘cause it ain’t your fault. I’m nowhere ‘cause

»Sure, if you haven’t got it.

I never got a real education.«

Take me, money’s real important to me. Unemployment benefits

»You can still get an education.«

don’t stretch very far. »Maybe. I signed up for training.« »I’m sorry.« »You’re young, Rob. You can make your life better.« ☞

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»You know, I’d like your phone number so we can talk again.« »Not a good idea,« I say.

carry across the room, in contrast to the silence of the slot players.

One elderly woman, white hair tinted a delicate robin’s egg blue,

»Why not?«

mindlessly shovels quarters into the slots, alternating between two

»Because we’re just two people

machines in zombie fashion. So many

who met on a bus to A.C. All we

old and infirmed come here wrongly

have in common is right here

believing these casinos, built on

and now in the casino.«

human greed, are Lourdes in disguise.

»Pardon me if I don’t agree.« He pulls out a pen and proceeds to write on a napkin. »Here’s my phone number. Will you call me sometime?« His eyes rivet to mine. »Truthfully, I doubt it.«

But they will find no cures here.

I have a feeling you're going to be lucky today.

I look at Rob and see the need in him, the hunger. Am I really so different?

We finish eating, have a

I open my wallet and reach in, count

companionable cup of coffee, and go

out five twenties. For me, this money

down to the casino together. Rob’s

is mostly meaningless. But not for

eyes restlessly follow the action on

Rob. »Please play this,« I tell him.

the floor of the casino. At the crap table closest to us, they are having one good, old noisy time; animated shouts

He gives me a hard look. »I don’t want your sympathy or your charity.

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I’m not trying to hit you up for cash.«

Strangely enough, he begins to win.

The wheel is his lover, bestowing

»I know that.« It’s clear I’ve offended him, hurt his pride. »I have a feeling you’re going to be lucky today. So play this for

gifts. When he has won $10,000, he excitedly pulls me into his arms and kisses me smack on the lips.

His mouth is warm and alive.

both of us. Whatever you win, keep half, since we’re partners.«

He signals that he is done playing.

Slightly dazed, in shock and

»All right,« he says.

disbelief, we collect the winnings.

»But what if I lose?« »So let’s have a drink to »Then you’ll be like most of the people here.«

celebrate, maybe take a walk by the ocean first,« he says. »I think we need to clear our heads.«

Of course it’s a bad bet. But I feel today as if the cosmos has

»Are you finished playing?«

rearranged its molecules in some benevolent manner. The money in itself is unimportant, but it

»I don’t intend to play again,« he says. »How about you?«

symbolizes something significant. Rob understands now that I trust him.

Rob and I walk around for a time.

I shake my head as we walk out into the sunlight together. We quit

I think he intends to play craps,

while we’re ahead, both hoping that

but he surprises me by choosing

somehow our luck has somehow

roulette which has even worse odds.

changed for the better. ◎

He asks me my birthday and plays that number along with his own.

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Distract & Conquer WORDS GARY BECK

ILLUSTRATION NICK TAYLOR

The rulers of our land cheerfully encourage social networking, cynically believing we will be too busy chatting with strangers on twitter, facebook, to pay attention to issues of our time that allow the rich to become richer, while the rest get less and less of the American Dream.

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81

A s tory about c ry s t a l s a n d s e a c re a t u re s riding on a c o w b o y i n t o t h e s u n s e t .

W hat a s c ene! W h a t a f a b u l o u s l y h o t f a nta s y !

Luc y in the sky w o u l d h a v e b e e n s o j e a l o u s .

Cowboy

God, it felt good to so recklessly

The edges of the world and the

sweat with you here. Where the

edges of my mind. Whatever I could

beaches of pulverized reefs burned our

see and make sense of. Maybe it

feet. Where the sun reduced everyone

was all the chemicals beading

to base chemical reactions. Solids and

continually up and out through my

liquids, man, holding hands beneath

skin. All the oxides and bromides

a date palm. What reckless thing was

I’d carried here in me from home.

there not to love? Glossed in sweat.

It did make the edges fuzzy.

They say the sweat of meth addicts

Glowing with sweat. A couple human candles dripping in the sand and on

can give you a rash, make your

one another. So much sweat we didn’t

skin burn and go numb. But what

interpret it as sweat anymore, only

about their spit? You know? What

a constant knowledge of slickness,

would their cum do to you? I’m not

of salty. Days of sweat. When we

saying I was like that. But maybe a

touched, our hands would just glide.

little? What, with the sun cooking every impure thing out of me and

But it did make the edges fuzzy.

maybe some of the pure stuff, too.

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WORDS DOUGLAS W. MILLIKEN

ILLUSTRATION HENDRIK SCHNEIDER

Like boiling water to make it safe to drink. That’s how the heat confused

sheen of sunlight off water and tin roofs and wet skin. Right?

FruitJewish & white liquor & the warping sheen of sunlight off water couple eating crab before God Eat it all up. I remember thinking me. I remember, there was this old

and everyone, right, right there in the

how weird the world looked through

sidewalk sand, each one zinced pink

those silvered mirror sunglasses

and buried to the nose in sea-bug and

you gave me, everything alien as a

me not understanding whatsoever

mouthful of crab, the otherworldliness

what I was seeing. Like, what was all

of reflections, continuums really and

that scary gold dripping like mercury

polarized to boot, how the waiters

between their fingers? That couldn’t

and hotel staff would all give me the

possibly be butter. And who sells crabs

stare and say something and you’d

like popsicles from a stand anyway?

translate that I shouldn’t wear my sunglasses indoors. It made me look

Fruit is what you eat in an equatorial sweatscape. Fruit and

like a brooding teenager. Or an addict. ☞

white liquor and the warping

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The sex, too, I remember, was pretty

be about a girl in space with her cat,

otherworldly. Or anyway, like I wasn’t

and I laughed and man, didn’t that

home. I would step out of my body,

get you pissed. It was the first time

right, and watch us writhe in the

all week I’d truly seen you angry.

blue gloom televised by the window blinds, my own Carlos Castaneda,

You asked what the fuck was so

confused and intrigued and always

funny, and I said way to embrace your

only ever on the verge of coming.

gendered stereotype. Cats in space.

It was a dizzying tickle an idiot. Said you answered honestly

Very girly-girl. But you told me I was

It was a dizzying tickle, the tickle I

felt between us, all live wires sizzling

because you had nothing to hide. Said

from my spine through to your spine.

you could love your cat fiercely enough

Like we weren’t joined groin to groin

to take it to space and still possess

so much as by a single braid of nerves.

the brave autonomy to kick my ass

Sticky silk and the glide of sweat.

all day. Said it was liberating to not

Each pulling the other inside out. But

make every choice out of fear. Couldn’t

you know more about that than I do.

I feel your liberty? Your liberty felt delightful. Wearing nothing

In what I guess you’d call one of

but a bikini in a five star hotel.

my more lucid moments, in the hotel

your ca Cashew waltzing inthen operatic zero gravity I didn’t know that your movie

atrium, everything crispening in the

air-conditioned air while a brown boy

was a biopic. I could only see you

in white brought some juice glasses

spinning in a space-age tin can high

to our table, I asked you what kind

above distant clouds and some ocean,

of movie you’d make if you could

just you and your cat Cashew waltzing

make a movie, don’t know why I

in operatic zero gravity. It was cute. ☞

asked but I asked and you said it’d

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Then you asked what macho

Just beyond the super-cooled

bullshit fantasy I would star in and of course, I said I’d make a porno.

atrium lay sprawled acres of electric

blue pool. We could see it. sprawled acres of electric blue pool

But you know, all this time on my

Pink towels and bathing suits that

hands now, just me and the waiting

barely were. Beyond that was coral

breath-hot wind and the SSB radio’s

sand and salt water and we could see

whistle and spit – just me and my

all that shit, too. The whole wide world

veins aching like they’ve been run

shucked open for us to glide through.

through roughly with dirty pipe

Polarized and sheer as riesling.

cleaners – fuck man, I think about that conversation a lot. As in, it

Yeah. Tell yourself you can own it.

was the only time in our whole

Tell yourself it can be had. I’m willing

week here together that you weren’t

to bet there really is no sky. You slid a

steering me away from danger,

pill across the table and I took it like

you know, saving me from some

a good boy. No vaporous barrier at

embarrassment or ridicule. But maybe

all between us and God’s white eye.

I’m not remembering that right.

my mirror eyes, safety Do my you see it? Maybe my silvered

Above the water, the approaching

glasses were already on, my mirror

clouds look like a wall built of

eyes, my safety. Crabs taste better

prisons. Sometimes I pray this whole

with butter. You gathered my hands

thing is a joke. Sometimes, it’s the

from the table and pillowed your lips

opposite of praying. Or maybe it’d

along the nails, then led me outside

be a Western, I said. All those horses

where the sun made dinner of us all.

lathered in the sun. Yeah. Maybe I just thought that. Cowboy porno.

◎

A short Meth-story

Meth was first synthesized in 1887 in Ger many by Lazăr Edeleanu. Dur ing World War II, meth was sold under the brand name Per vitin. It was used by the Wehr macht and was popular with L uf t w a f f e p i l o t s i n p a r t i c u l a r, f o r

Crab Recipe

Killing a crab is very easy. First tur n it onto its back with its legs upward.

Underneath, towards the back of the shell, you

its perfor mance-enhancing stimulant

will see a small pointed

effects and to induce extended

f lap. Lif t this f lap and

wakefulness. Side effects were so ser ious that the ar my had to cut back

you will find a small hole in the shell. Using a

its usage in 1940. »A soldier going

small screwdriver pierce

to battle on Per vitin usually found

down through this hole,

himself unable to perfor m effectively

with a shar p tap on the

for the next day or t wo (...) suffer ing

t o p o f t h e s c r e w d r i v e r,

from a drug hangover and looking more

until you feel it hit the

like a zombie than a great warrior

other side of the shell.

(...).« (Lukasz Kamienski)

Move the handle of the

Some soldiers tur ned very violent,

screwdr iver shar ply

committing war crimes against

towards the back of the

civilians; others attacked their own

shell then withdraw it.

officers.

Finally tur n the crab on In 195 0s Obetrol, the f irst meth phar maceutical, was prescr ibed for

its belly and allow it to drain.

treatment of obesity. Due to the psychological and stimulant effects the pill became very popular in America in the 1950s and 1960s. Eventually, as the addictive properties of the drug became known, gover nments began to str ictly regulate the production and

Use the largest saucepan you have, half f ill it w i t h w a t e r, a d d s a l t a n d bring it to a vigorous boil. Drop the crab and cook for 20 minutes.

distr ibution.

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Pleasing Things WORDS MERCEDES WEBB-PULLMAN

ILLUSTRATION MARCO ARMBRUSTER

The addict always had exquisite taste in clothes and music, restaurants and bars.

He wore Italian suits, drove German cars but feeding him a meal? A total waste.

He’d sit there, on the nod, completely spaced, communing with the gods of Myanmar or somewhere almost equally bizarre, and poke, as if his food was poison-laced.

The full abstainer on the other hand demanded extra sauces with his roast, and soon enough I came to understand that crumbs will come with every slice of toast.

I live alone, my fast food menus planned, and only eat the things that please me most.

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O u r au th o r e x p lo r e s t h e w o r ld o f c o mmu n e life , f re e l o v e , a n d h o w fr e e d o m t o p l a y o fte n lie s i n t h e e y e o f th e b e h o ld e r .

California Cult Dreaming

There we were, two 23-years

The cult leader who created

old girls and two 30-years old

the church I were staying at.

men driving upwards the North

The very same cult leader who

California hills on quads. When

vanished off the face of the

we reached the top, we got our

Earth after being wanted by the

weapons out. I was dead excited!

FBI. I finally played the game

My friends assumed I'd be a crack

I’d always wanted to play.

shot, because surely any Northern Irish person with a rifle would be.

Summer 2016. I flew off to the Golden State. Serendipity led me

Oppression gave me this identity.

to an all-American small town, ☞

First shot – no good, »Don’t pity

a meeting place for the hill-

me. I'll be grand!« Second shot,

hippies and hill-billies of North

I shot right through the target,

California. A lovely place to set

taking out the entire DIY shooting

up your very own cult among the

range. I later found out that

Redwood trees and Cali breeze. ☞

gun belonged to a cult leader.

WORDS AMI NASH

ILLUSTRATION MATT MULLINS

90

91

A neighbourhood cult to the

motel, enough housing for the

church was once Jim Jones and

community, a garden and farm for

the People’s Temple. I sought

interns who come from all over the

experimentation, exploration and

world to study there, and a church.

freedom to do anything I wished for. My fate came in the form of

The church stayed true to their

my friend Sky. She invited me to

word. I got my accommodation

stay at her ranch. What I'd get was

and meals. They asked for

a fully equipped, free apartment

nothing in return, but, of course,

and free, daily communal meals

I helped and cleaned whenever

from the organic garden and farm.

I could to show my gratitude.

»So what’s the catch, Sky?«

I adhered to the stereotypical

»Nothing. You will just have to

commune lifestyle: I fell in

write a letter to the church.«

love, explored poly-amorous relationships and pure kinkery.

I wasted no time putting pen to paper and I arrived at

His name was Turtle. He

Saddlesworth Ranch on 6th

had a floppy Mohawk and he

August. I was surprised, to tell you

recognized the full worth of

the truth, I was half expecting a

the female forum – what made

load of hippies and a bearded man

him wonderfully desirable. One

wearing a Charlie Manson t-shirt. I

morning, it was Turtle's turn

was overwhelmed to find myself at

to lead the religious morning

a highly established, international

services. I entered the conference-

living community with its own

room-turned-church filled with

school, large communal dining

blue chairs arranged around one

hall, land upon land, an old

grand chair where Turtle was sat.

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He looked like some sort of

Therefore all things

monk, wearing a t-shirt which

Whatsoever ye would that

read Life is Good. There were 25

Men should do to you,

chairs. Only seven were filled

Do ye even so to them.

with lifetime loyal members; they were all elderly. I was wearing a

(Aka: If you come and join our

short, white summer dress and I

church, give us your savings and

could see him looking from across

follow this rule, in return we

the room, thinking of elaborate

shall provide you with a life full

ways of how he could tie me up

of true abundance, and greater

later. The organ began to play,

than that, a world where we shall

voices joint harmoniously and

overthrow the government and the

pleasantly, singing about Christ,

corrupt leaders! We will banish

and I was thinking: »Go on Ami,

jealousy greed, poverty and war.

immerse yourself fully into the

And in true culty style, I will

experience! Sing. Sing to the

in fact take all your money and

Lord Jesus Christ of California!«

essentially leave you and your family in poverty, whilst I live

He read out a biblical verse

my lavish lifestyle in Los Angeles

and some church literature –

I will hire doppelgänger actors

which was in fact written by the

to convince my followers I can

infamous Ronnie Bell when he

teleport and all the while have an

founded the church in the 40s.

open court case: treason against the United States government.)

The church’s foundation is Christianity; they follow the

Bell was a fantastic conman.

»hidden rule«, which says:

☞

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Fast-forward to 2016, there were

provided for me – experience, love,

only twelve members of the Church

knowledge and tomfoolery. The church

of the Hidden Rule left. All multi-

was not at its height of deceitfulness

generational families without church

without a conman leader. These were

leader but an elected delegates

people who had lived this life for a

committee consisting of two people.

lifetime and longer. Some families

One of them actually threw

knew nothing else but this. They

an Irish themed dinner party

treated me the same way they would

for me when I was leaving.

have liked to be treated. I guess you can say they really stuck to their vision.

Every morning we attended church, read some cult leader literature,

During my time there I accumulated

stood at the end and declaimed

a small worn out book in my

the church’s vision. I myself stood

processions. This book was Bell's first

proud and loud, embodying the

bulletin he would hand out to people

true spirit of being a cult girl.

to recruit new members to his church.

It was scandalous. My friends

I’m massively fascinated by cults! I

at the ranch showed me original

was neither vulnerable nor naïve. I was

court transcripts and told me tales

manipulative and artful, prying for

of old propaganda tapes. They told

information on the church and Bell.

me, if Bell was still here today, they would surely worship him.

I found out some sensible information I wouldn’t dare share

Time went by and I realized this

publicly as it could cause trouble to

would never be a place for me. I missed

the community. The community which

Manchester's party scene, this just

supported me in my needs, fed me,

wasn’t my idea of fun. I felt judged

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by the community because I like

I said my goodbyes. The church

exploring drugs and the occasional

gave me a lovely card and Turtle and

drink. Certainly, there was no good

I headed off on our farewell road

music! Our harvesting parties were the

trip to L.A. to go visit (you guessed

exception when we listened to soul.

it) Charles Manson’s old ranch.

My lack of knowledge in permaculture and gardening left

We must remember when looking

me feeling incredibly insecure and

at these groups: »cult« is short for

excluded me from conversations.

»cultural« and not so different from Judaism, Christianity or Islam.

I had a lot of sex, collected tons of eggs, and questioned a lot of the people

And can tell you, at one point,

around me, but most of the time I

I wanted to have a baby and get

sat on my swinging bench writing,

married, and stay there forever.

reading, and sleeping in the heat.

I had a flight to catch.

Until I realized – it was a just California dream. ◎

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California Cult Dreaming

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95

WORDS RIN JOHNSON

ILLUSTRATION ELEONORA BONANZINGA

Play Parties

Pa rt i e s a n d g a me s a r e o n ly f u n a s l o n g a s we ' r e in v ite d .

I n s t e a d o f ma k in g u s c o n n e c t t h e y c a n t ur n in to s o me th in g e x c l u s i v e . Re la tio n s h ip s th a t o n c e w e re o u r a n c h o r c a n s o o n b e c o m e a fr ia r ' s la n te r n .

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Two — The Games We Play

Relationships, Sex, Addiction

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My ex was into porn and play

echoing and I wish that they

parties and play sex and back-

allowed some scent at this party.

pages and whips and chains

But F is sensitive to scents, and

and latex and ropes and consent

so all that you can smell is BO

and protection and lube and I,

with a hint of asshole and latex

being dumb and 24, thought

and nitrile for those of us who are

how interesting: this must be

allergic to latex but sympathetic

queer sex, this is professional.

to those that like latex.

How interesting: this must be queer sex.

I am body positive but not about yours or mine and not about my ex's ankles which were objectively fat and they constantly asked me all the time do I have fat

At first, I’m sure it must have

ankles and I thought, yes, but

been fun or if they weren’t

said, no, because that is how you

such a horrible person I’d have

practice consent and love when

memories of having a good time.

you don’t understand either.

But lying there at a play party wearing a purple band on my arm to signal, yes, I did have herpes, being touched by the

They did not want to get it, get me.

only other queer who also, yes, had a purple band and, yes, had

They didn’t fuck me because I

herpes, I thought don’t touch me.

have herpes they did not want to

And I hate the sound of moaning

get it they did not want to get me.

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You cannot have sex with many

my alcoholism, my weed addiction,

people if you have herpes. They

my art practice, my dog peeing on

preferred Sex to be professional.

the carpet – I cannot control any of these things, I think, but I always

I cannot be professional.

found myself in some phase of

Fun cannot be political.

apology. That’s gas lighting I read

I am no fun.

later in a think piece on the internet in my bedroom which is mostly

Labor has a »u« in British English

grey like my t-shirts and my soul.

the colonizers have such an irreverent language. Only women of color do

A year later at 25 I go to Berlin and

not care that I have herpes – so what

meet a woman who is so beautiful

it won’t kill me – let me fuck you.

the simplicity of her jaw is burned into my memory even right now as

As dark as I am in the summer time.

I sit writing this on my typewriter because I am an asshole.

This woman with the jaw also has herpes and I only find out after I beg

I do have a perfect vagina. A

her to let me take her on a date and

herpetic perfect vagina. My father

get her home to my friend’s apartment

said if he could visualize my humor

where I am staying for the summer

it would be as dark as I am in the

and I try to undress her on the grey

summer time. I get very dark.

blue blanket but she won’t have it, she keeps her grey t shirt on and her

Fuck my ex, they were such a fucking

grey underwear won’t come off. ☞

cunt, always complaining about

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Play Parties

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99

She says she has herpes I say, me too, – a secret in common.

Immediately we jump off one another. M who is hyperbolic tells me that the only other two people who could maybe empathize with this sensation might be two gay men who are HIV positive.

This is comforting for a year and then later feels hyperbolic.

Time is no fun.

Herpes is not HIV. Only clichĂŠs come with time.

Me and the woman who also has herpes and has a jaw, we warm up to each other and have sex on other occasions, it is good and confusing and we have to get to know ourselves again in addition to getting to know one another because how crazy to be suddenly so.

Free. Again. Sexually.

Two — The Games We Play

Play Parties

Her mind is so sharp it is like

Still in Brooklyn in October and

reading a good novel but it is real and

still 25 I find myself at a sex party

a person and she smells like earth

called summit or submit. Both happen

and has insomnia and looks so good

so it doesn’t much matter what it was

in nothing and in dresses. She does

called. At summit or submit I meet

not care about herpes or me for that

another woman who could love me

matter but I read her over and over

and I fuck her in what is modelled

again trying to memorize her lines

after a bathroom stall and I think we

so I can recite them alone, on my

might have matched on tinder and I

clit, when I leave her and Berlin to go

take her to my grey apartment and

home to Brooklyn which is not really

suck on her breasts like a fiendish

my home, I am from San Francisco;

animal and hope to draw milk to

Brooklyn is where I keep my things.

gain power like a newborn or a pro basketball player which I would have

After Berlin sometimes I would walk around the park with the dog

been if I was born a real boy and actually gave a shit about basketball.

waiting for him to pee thinking I might have left a woman who actually

We have sex like the sun will take

loves me in Berlin to come back to

a day off and stay set for Sunday

Brooklyn but I’m too afraid to ask her

only to rise on Monday morning

if she loves me or even likes me so I

glowing harder than ever on our

am in Brooklyn not having any fun.

bodies which are heavy and smell of wood and lemongrass and BO and

Brooklyn does not give a fuck

female ejaculate and just a little bit of

about me a third wave black queer

asshole – we are in this fragrant soup

gentrifier in a neighborhood of town

of one another and it is best when it

houses and interracial couples and

is warm and better when it is hot.

old ladies and baby strollers.

Now she, that, was a good time. ◎

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Two — The Games We Play Jameson Kergozou

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Two — The Games We Play Jameson Kergozou

WORDS DELYTH TELFORD

PHOTOGRAPHY JAMESON KERGOZOU

There Are Many Wa y s To S c o r e The points you score Do the mean more Than the other person Behind the words

You chip away at the foundation With no realisation You’re invisible stranglehold Wreaks destruction untold

You need more and more And this inevitably turns to war A volatile playground Or an unknown battleground

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In the end I needed out Drowned beneath a shout Driven by doubt

Chasing splice From a malice That followed To a place I thought it couldn’t

Again and again A foul chase With the cards stacked In the houses favour

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Grasping for an altered state of mind Trying to find Escape from a war within the soul Ending up being swallowed whole

These matches within the head Things that shouldn’t have been said The rush we grab To escape it’s hold This poker of emotions Has lead us to vile potions The verdict is in Some games nobody wins.

Two — The Games We Play

There Are Many Ways To Score

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WORDS JAKE DUFF

ILLUSTRATION APOLLONIA SAINTCLAIR

Proxy How many hours do you spend browsing the internet each night?

Settling for less each and every time. Young and pristine to begin with, sucking and penetrating

End of the month, uglier

tight smooth bodies. Obvious

models. When you get tired of

enjoyment, obvious desire to

the monthly subscriptions you

please. To make sure you get what

pay upfront for certain girls you

you paid for. To offer something

find yourself fascinated by and

the thousands of others don’t.

find yourself drifting towards the

Something unique to them.

quieter corners of the internet.

☞

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What are you looking for in these models?

Do you think this is affecting your ability to form relationships with people in the real world?

People arrive at the same conclusion after a certain amount of time, which

It didn’t take long for binary

I guess varies from person to person.

preference to vaporize away in

The girl, boy or couple is always

the faint and lonely glow of the

secondary to the medium. Once you

computer screen. Though not

recognize that, you make better,

just any cock or cunt will do. The

more informed choices. You’re no

aesthetic criteria still matter.

longer looking for just anything. Your tastes become refined, they change.

Do these performances take place in a bedroom? Is the bedroom windowless?

How much do you spend a

Is it well lit? Is it well furnished?

month on these websites?

I like to look for performers You get used to certain girls. They

who have bookshelves as part of

become familiar. The particular way

their mise-en-scene. Those are the

they masturbate. Their mannerisms

performers who I will spend the most

and idiosyncrasies. They look into

money on. Private. One on one. It’s

the camera, towards you but not

in their best interests to keep your

seeing you. Some encouragingly,

attention for as long as possible,

others with total indifference. Both

paid as they are by the minute.

styles have their devoted fans, who might argue in some dim and mostly empty box of text over how and why their preference is the more artful.

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Me: Is that Bright Lights Big City I see in the background?

Them: yeah Me: What do you think of it?

Them: its ok – the so-called »transgressive« hedonism thing wears kinda thin though.

Me: You’re right. I find that to be the case with Bret Easton Ellis, too.

Them: i’ve only read American Psycho but I know what you mean.

Me: Do you have an Amazon wishlist?

Them: sure.

Me: Would you like me to buy you a copy of Less Than Zero? Or are there any other books you would like me to get for you?

Them: ok. The link is in my profile.

Me: Well, how about you show me how deep you can get your fingers into your pussy first. ☞ Two — The Games We Play

Proxy

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Have you ever wanted to transcend the performer/audience dynamic?

Occasionally short blow-job or jerk-off clips. Not worth paying for.

It’s even less like a conversation

I’ve found myself enjoying a

than the chat-rooms.

conversation to the extent that I’ve forgotten I was paying them for it. I

What I want is communication.

don’t know if they were quite enjoying

They do not reply to the messages you

it as much as I was, but they didn’t

send in response. All they have to do

have to take off their clothes. I’ve had

is render their images as text. Tell me,

others grow very clearly bored of my

don’t show me. There are a thousand

conversation and start masturbating

others waiting to show me, but I chose

themselves just to get me to shut up.

you. And I want you to tell me where you masturbated today. Where you

Have you ever had a relationship with a performer outside of a chatroom?

Some of them will give you their

sucked a cock. The detail I want can’t easily be conveyed as an image.

What effect do you think

»private« number. Always for a

this has had on the way you

fee. Most of the websites forbid

view others sexually?

them from doing so, for obvious reasons. Of course, they aren’t really

Performers are arranged by category.

personal numbers. Just a cheap,

Certain categories are never short of

non-contract phone they can use to

performers, where others are more

distribute pictures of themselves

sparsely populated. It hardly needs

to desperate lonely fucks like me.

pointing out which are which, though

Usually just posed tit and cunt in

there aren’t many that I can’t find

changing rooms or public toilets. ☞

at least something that appealing

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about. On the very bottom rung you

quite what it is we’re buying from

can usually find elderly performers.

them. Certainly what we’re buying

Mostly women. The men tend to

from them isn’t the same as what

devote themselves more to specialist

they think they’re selling to us. It’s

sites, where whoever might find

a personal thing, from consumer

them are most likely already looking

to consumer. From performer to

for them. Some never get tired of

performer. It turns me on to think

the young, nubile girls giggling and

of them paying their rent and

toying themselves to what look

their bills with money I gave them

suspiciously like genuine orgasms.

to masturbate into a webcam.

Others gravitate outwards once they’ve seen all they need to see.

What is the appeal of webcam performers over traditional

You catch yourself in idle moments

forms of pornography?

thinking of them as friends. The personality, real or perceived, has

The dynamic between performer

an escape velocity that finds its

and audience is radically different.

way out from the surface of your

You are encouraged to make requests

computer screen. Some look for

of them. This is particularly useful

personality, some look for a complete

with couples. It becomes almost like

absence of personality. I can find

directing your own pornographic film.

something to enjoy in both.

You can tell them which positions you would like to see them have sex

I’m not certain many of them

in. You can tell them which sexual

understand what it is we get from

acts you would like them to perform

them. I don’t think they understand

on each other, and for how long. ☞

Two — The Games We Play

Proxy

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You can direct the eventual

And you spend countless

ejaculation onto whichever part

happy hours trying to figure it

of the body you care to see it

out, not really caring whether

dribble off of. It’s in these videos

you do or you don’t. You find

that the performers look most

yourself occasionally swept up in

genuinely as though they’re

something like a cult, in which

enjoying themselves. Some

your fixation is shared with others.

people find pleasure in being

There is never a consensus as to

directed. In being a conduit for

what that unknown quality is.

the sexual gratification of an invisible, anonymous stranger.

What is it that unifies us in

It’s understandable that people

our adoration? A resemblance to

might want to be someone other

some long-forgotten infatuation?

than themselves, especially in this

Some deeply buried but still

context. They suspend their entire

writhing oedipal urge?

identities together. Temporarily, they both become the audience,

Perhaps. More likely though

and through his instructions, the

that it’s a shared perception of

audience fucks them by proxy.

some vulnerability or weakness that convinces these followers

Do you recognise this as being a problem?

that the performer is reasonably within their grasp. They don’t perform with the same confidence

You tend to fixate. There might

as others. They might not be as

be a performer who has something

attractive in the same way as the

that the others don’t. Almost

others. Or they’re more willing

always it’s something ineffable

to open up to their audience

that you feel you’re always on

than the others. Share the

the verge of understanding. ☞

mundanities of their lives. ☞

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Two — The Games We Play

Proxy

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Just enough that we can relate,

Though the fantasies can

not so much that they lose

also be surprisingly tender.

their position on the pedestal

Simply coming home to them,

we’ve constructed. There is an

to exist in perfect privacy as a

illusion of attainability that

normal couple. The loneliness

some of us cannot resist.

really is that complete.

Do you often think of

Have you ever considered

these people even when

becoming a webcam

you aren’t online?

performer yourself?

Each of us that spends our

I wish I could do what they do.

time browsing webcam galleries

Sadly, I’m lacking distinctly in

has in common the tendency

sex appeal of any kind. Nor is my

to prefer fantasy to real life. I

dick anything to look at. Maybe

promise you this. Some dream

as a couple, though the focus

of rescuing them. Some dream

would have to be on whichever

of being their co-star.

downtrodden soul who would be willing to let me fuck them

Guest51627: how can you stand to have that fat ugly Mexican inside u

on camera. Once you’ve spent enough time taking in these performances, and once you’ve

Guest51627: let me show u how a real man can fuck u

spent enough of your money encouraging them to satisfy your boring desires, you simply can’t

Guest51627: 9 inches uncut, 5 inches in girth

imagine yourself in their position.

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With people exactly the same as you watching, dick in hand and waiting, to see if you have anything they can use.

There’s absolutely nothing of myself that I can convey through sex. Not anymore. Not after so many nights of demanding exactly the same of others. ◎

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Three Press Play PLAY TIME UNBRIDLING PLAY PERMISSION TO PLAY POSTER: ADVOCACY – CONVERSATIONS WE ARE BORED IN THE CITY LIVING THROUGH MUSIC WATCHING A BEE EXPIRE IN THE GARDEN

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Part Three.

S e l f - e x p r e s s i o n . C r e a t i v i t y. S u p p o r t .

Press play! This last part is a manifesto to the Rememberance of Play. It listens to survivors, explorers, advocats sending sharing their experiences about the power of play.

Let us untangle the definitions of »play« in eavesdropping on a mental health support group in Scotland, a visit to the art gallery, a band member reminiscing on the magical powers of playing music together, and a brave fighter for love and sexual experimentation.

What's holding us back from being more playful? Is it our concerns how others will see us? Would you like to be more free? How many hundreds of days, how many thousands of hours, how many millions of minutes have we spent on the things, with the people, we love?

The only regret we're ever going to have is the piece of cake we have not eaten and shared with our mates, right? ◎

Three — Press Play

Introduction

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play time WORDS ALEX C. RENWICK

time may be precious but money isn't but what it buys is time

Three — Press Play

Self-expression, Creativity, Support

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Three — Press Play

Madalina Preda

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Madalina Preda

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133

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Three — Press Play

Madalina Preda

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Three — Press Play

Madalina Preda

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Three — Press Play Madalina Preda

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WORDS VASKA TRAJKOVSKA

PHOTOGRAPHY MADALINA PREDA

Unbridling Play In

a

South London park two years ago, I felt my senses heighten and the animal inside me awakend.

My breath quickened and the beat of my heart rushed.

In that second, all that mattered was that I evaded capture, that I wouldn’t be »It«. All that mattered was the game.

Play is like that. You surrender yourself to the present moment. It sharpens your awareness, connecting you to a part of yourself that is so often neglected. Your wild self. It can be risky business. Play requires us to abandon social norms, the layers of coded behaviour we put on like clothes as we move through adulthood. To play fully we have to defy social expectation and break the rules of being a proper grown-up. We have to allow ourselves to be seen as silly. We have to allow ourselves to be vulnerable. But that’s the sweet spot.

With play comes freedom.

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Creativ ity too. And the vehicle for play? Curiosity. Curiosity is our superpower. It reveals to us pathways to worlds waiting to be discovered and creates connections within ourselves, between ourselves, and outside of ourselves. The world becomes your playground when you honour your curiosity. Curiosity is Play’s twin - both thrive best when unbridled and free to roam. Both have the ability to transform our internal and external worlds, both have the power to unite and bring joy, and both can fill our lives with wonder, mystery, and the thrill of discovery.

Playful curiosity adds fullness to our lives. It is a flare that brightens the sky, so even the darkness is illuminated. It brings a lightness of touch to our exploration of the world and a depth of understanding to the human experience. Play is magical. And it can change your life. ◎

Three — Press Play

Vaska Trajkovska & Madalina Preda

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WORDS MIRIAM AVERY

ILLUSTRATION JUSTE URBONOAVICIÃœTE

Pe r m i s s i o n to Play

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2016 was a year of realisations,

uncomfortable realisations. Cheeky

right from the get go. Slap you right

little wink realisations – like that men

across the face realisations. Tear out

you don’t know are still going around

your guts, and heart, and brain – and

un-ironically actually winking at you

wriggle them around a bit (a lot) –

and what must this mean for the state

before putting them back in, in the

of feminism?!? Or just humanism?!

wrong order (probably) – realisations.

Whoooosh! I kind of really enjoyed

Tickle you gently on the fanny type

that one in an extremely obtuse

realisations. Stare meaningfully

way. So yeah, I’ve made my point.

into your eyes making you really

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Realisation station. My newly

three years in university! – and

acquired friend who has the

that was with no money coming

exact same birthday as me, down

in really, and a part time job in

to the year, and who is big into

between working my arse off

horoscopes would tell you that

to get me through having no

this is all part of turning 29

money coming in… so double

and something to do with the

work. And actually then the year

movements of Saturn. It can

before that I was just straight up

start happening any time from

working my arse off because I had

your 27th birthday onwards and

a minimum wage job and needed

involves questioning all aspects

to pay the rent and couldn’t afford

of your life and evaluating

to do much more than eat pasta

where you are so far, where to

and drink bloody Red Stripe.

go next and so on and so forth.

Oh, and then before that…«

Maybe so, maybe so, who am I to

And so on and so forth until I

argue with the stars – especially

realised that I couldn’t remember

when they sound about right.

the last time I hadn’t been working

But I digress. The realisation I am

really hard – either academically

here to talk about today is the one

or professionally or physically – for

that went something like this :

any real extended period of time.

»Hang on a second? I’ve

Now I’m not blaming anyone

been…I’ve been working really

else for this, nor do I regret

bloody hard. For the last three

that this has been the case but

years! No, wait, no that’s just

it dawned on me that amidst

since having this last job (which

all this work there had been a

is gnarly, believe you me). Before

glaring oversight on my part.

that I was working my arse off for

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And this oversight had been

So back to that oversight.

occurring continuously for a

Yes, I had managed, I realised,

variety of reasons – not all present

to neglect to manage to

all of the time but each playing

really bloody genuinely:

a part in the overall oversight.

Depression and anxiety I think

Enjoy myself.

number one culprits. Not feeling

To have fun.

comfortable in my own skin – a

To mess about.

kindred spirit of the first guys

To be silly.

of course. (Oh, you guys!)

To play.

Just not bloody having the time or the energy another favourite,

Did I even know how, any more?

along with the recession classic –

Shit.

noooooo moneyyyy (deep voice).

I thought, as I began to formulate And not to forget: my own

the ideas for this piece, that I

ludicrously high expectations of

would go off to thesaurus.com or

myself, whereby doing anything

just – hey, why make life difficult

that I did not consider to be

for yourself these days – go

work or productive or »achieving

straight for google search and get

something« in some way (who

in there with the etymology of the

knows what the criteria are, well

word, noun, verb, adjective: »play«.

actually I do, but I’ll spare you and you should thank me for

I like words. I like to do this

that) had driven me forward in

kind of thing on a day-to-

my quest to be... to do… what

day basis anyway. But before

exactly? A good question.

I could even get to this point my own definitions began to pop wildly into my head. ☞

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I still haven’t googled it (and

Apart from the bits with details

won’t now until this is published,

which were added later on because

I promise you. I’m intrigued to

I do concede here that I had to go

see if mine match what is there

and google to check the dates so I

or not at all). These following

didn’t look like a complete numpty

definitions just seemed more apt

if anyone ever asks me about this

somehow, a better starting point.

IRL) led me to the nugget of

So, I am going to thrash them out

thought that »to play« is:

and see where they take us. I hope they are something that some of you might be able to identify

»To enact things differently or ideally.«

with. If not, well, so it goes.

Which, surely, is what happens My first thought on assuming

in many plays and films, and

consciousness to the tune of the

in any number of fictional

multiple and varied meanings of

narratives you can think of.

the word »play« was: »a play«, as in

Fantasy or science fiction seem

one that is performed on a stage.

to be obvious examples of this

And the next quick leap

function of storytelling. But,

transported me to the European

how much has been created from

morality plays of the 15th and

our human need to imagine

16th century in which local or

things as they might or could

wandering players would enact

be in a better world. Or indeed,

well-known scenes with well-

as a counterpoint – dystopian

known characters such as Death

fictions – how things might be

and Knowledge – and of course a

if they were to be worse – and

moral lesson to impart. Which

thus help us imagine solutions to

then (all this occurring in a split

prevent or reverse such a decline.

second in my mind, by the way.

☞

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Children surely play, surely in

equated with a lack of freedom.

some ways, to imagine and enact

It is clear that carefully chosen

their future, idealised selves – but

and communally agreed upon

also to be able to solve problems

rules can help to facilitate

and make mistakes in a way that

freedom in an equitable way.

causes them no real harm but allows them to learn and develop.

For example, the rules particular to BDSM community gatherings

The adult equivalent to this,

ensure that everybody is

which occurred to me here, is the

comfortable and safe within the

concept of play within the BDSM

space – and hence able to play.

or role playing communities.

Even children left alone to play

A space is created for people to

may make up rules to govern the

enact the versions of themselves

games they invent: there is nobody

which only otherwise appear in

there telling them what to play, or

their fantasies. The ones which

how to play it, or what the content

are not acceptable in the »vanilla«

of the game must involve – they

world. I think the »vanilla«

are free to simply go with whatever

world has a lot to learn from the

it is that comes into their heads at

BDSM world. Which brings me

that particular time – to proceed

to my next definition of »play«:

without self-consciousness.

»To behave freely rather

The rules can and do change

than under the jurisdiction

to accommodate new characters

of another (or ourselves).«1

or scenarios whenever they decide. The thoughts I had here

Now certain forms of play

are connected more closely

have rules of course but I don’t

with my ideas about being able

believe rules as such to be

to be oneself without fearing

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or imagining judgement from

»(Or ourselves).«

an external source. This could be a teacher, editor, manager,

So the aforementioned

parents, the church, legal system.

realisation had a kind of sub-

The consequence would be the

realisation within it: of course,

modification of behaviour: sit up

nobody had been stopping me

straight, write in full sentences,

from doing anything that I

finish everything on your plate,

wanted, or really cutting loose, or

pray every day, don’t take drugs.

enjoying myself, or however it is you want to term it – apart from

But the external judgements we

myself. The often very real voice

are subject to as unself-conscious

of my consciousness, sometimes

children, playing in this way

even tiresomely narrating my

can become internalised. Even

every movement as if it was the

despite our ostensible freedom

judging voice of someone else,

to be ourselves, as adults we

or the critical narrator in a film

may become limited by the

of my life, or the voice of those

echoes of voices which once

people over there, and what-

determined the parameters of

must-they-be-thinking-of-me-

our existence – and perhaps

just-walking along-minding-my-

prevented us from behaving

own-business – but they must

freely or from being able to play.

be thinking something. Probably about what I was wearing, or how

The more I thought about

I was walking. So it's best to be as

this, the part of this definition

inconspicuous as possible, shrink

which I put in parentheses »(or

back into the shadows, don’t

ourselves)«1 – in actual fact

make any sudden movements.

becomes the main event.

Definitely. Don’t. Dance. ☞

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But you love dancing! My »me« would argue back sometimes. »Doesn’t matter«, says a critical

who had seemingly taken up permanent residence in my mind.

I thought and I thought and I

narrator. »Not allowed. Someone

talked to people who did not have

else (unspecified) might not like

an agenda or an opinion about

it and if there is even a slight

who I should be, or what I should

chance that anybody else might

do, but who simply listened and

not like it, well, then that's

reflected my own voice back to me.

off the cards. No apology. You don’t get to have an opinion.«

It took some detective work, and let’s be honest – some LSD – but

So exhausting. So boring.

eventually something cracked and the wave of realisation which had

Where do these critical narrators

been slowly building, escalated

even come from? How do they

into a wonderful crescendo.

gain so much credence in both

A kind of almighty fanfare of

our mental and physical lives?

trumpets which heralded my

How do we get rid of them?

return to a state of being in which I realised that ultimately the only

I wanted to answer these

person judging me was me and:

questions and I knew that really, it was only me who had the answer.

I allowed myself to play.

So I spent a lot of time by myself to practise listening to my own voice.

I played with myself. I played with other people. I played

I realised I wasn’t even sure

with people I knew and those

what I really sounded like, having

I did not know at all, and I

spent so long only listening to

made so many new friends.

the throng of critical narrators

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I played out all night

I began to really have fun.

whenever I wanted.

I sang my heart out and I danced until I could hardly stand up.

I played with the ideas I had about myself and I thought about

And I danced when nobody

how it might be if the ones I

else was dancing but I danced

had and did not like could be

every time I felt like it for as

different. I played at enacting

long as I felt like doing it.

myself differently and found that nothing bad happened when I did.

I played with whips. I played with belts. I played with paddles. I played with rope.

I played with the possibilities which sprang from the many ideas that had been forming in my head

I played at laughing and being silly and realised

for a very long time and I imagined how they might be in reality. ☞

that I did not have to be so freaking serious all the time.

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I did not stop at imagining them

I took the plunge and gave full

but enacted some of them into my

permission for my inner critical

actual reality and saw them take

narrator to stop performing the

on a form which I could not have

monotone and repetitive script

possibly predicted they would take

of the well-known and well-

when they were just in my mind

rehearsed but anachronistic

as mere hints of ideas with no

morality play of my mind.

agency and no stage to play out on.

I pursue the dream of an experimental performance

None of this was as hard as I had

piece in which the only narrator

imagined it to be all those years.

is me. This new state of being

It mainly just took the decision to

certainly took some time to get

experiment with a denouncement

used to. And I still shrink back

of both the external and internal-

into the shadows at times. But I

external jurisdiction wherever

will never stay there for long.

possible. This gave way to a glorious realisation that there

I’m having far too much fun.

were no reparations for doing so.

â—Ž

Definitions of ÂťplayÂŤ noun a dramatic composition or piece; drama; a dramatic performance, as on the stage; exercise or activity for amusement or recreation; fun or jest, as opposed to ser iousness;a pun; the playing, action, or conduct of a game; the manner or style of playing or of doing something verb to exercise or employ oneself in diversion, amusement, or recreation; to do something in sport that is not to be taken ser iously; to amuse oneself; toy; t r if le (of ten follo wed by with); to take part or engage in a game; to take part in a game for stakes; gamble; to conduct oneself or act in a specif ied way; to play fair; to act on or as if on the stage; perfor m phrases: play along: to cooperate or concur; play around: to behave in a playful or fr ivolous manner; fool around; to be sexually promiscuous; play at: to pretend interest in; play back: to play a recording, especially one newly made; play down: belittle: play off: to play an extra game or round in order to settle a tie; to set someone against another play out: to bring to an end

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WORDS MATILDA ROBERTS

PHOTOGRAPHY JAMESON KERGOZOU

We a r e b o r e d in the City!1

For the Situationist International

The SI rejected the fragmented

(SI), an art movement active in Paris

nature of modern society and called

through the late 1950s and 1960s;

for synthesis. For the Situationists,

boredom is the price we pay for living

»play« was a form of »direct

in a rationalized world as Gilles Ivain,

living«, a way of breaking out of

French political theorist, activist and

the mundane. This article uses

poet associated with the SI, puts it:

Situationist theories regarding play

where »darkness and obscurity are

as an intermediary into the current

banished by artificial lighting, and

trend in contemporary art galleries

the seasons by air conditioning« .

and museums to display art that

2

involves participation and increases »play« on the part of the viewer.

1

»We are bored in the city!« Gilles Ivain, French political

theorist, activist and poet;2 Ivain, Formulary for a New Urbanism

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For me, a long-term enthusiast for

knowledge, and culture, with the

Situationist ideas and tactics, the

consequence that people are removed

move in contemporary art towards a

and estranged not only from the goods

more playful and physically involving

they produce and consume, but also

mode of viewing is a positivie one.

from their own experiences, emotions,

However, the recent craze in

creativity, and desires. People are

encouraging grown-ups to »play«

spectators of their own lives. Living

as an antidote to stress and anxiety

in the midst of codes, messages, and

— something undertaken in order

images that produce and reproduce our

to reach »mindfulness« — is not as

lives, all that remains is the pleasure

innocent as it seems. Rather than

of playing in the fragments, the

aligning with the Situationist call

disruption and resistance of the codes

for disruption of everyday life and its

in which we live. The Situationists

routine, »play« has been appropriated

envisaged a future in which the

by the establishment to give people

creativity, imagination, technology,

momentary relief, so they can

and knowledge developed within

better partake in working life and

capitalist society would allow us

sustain the means of production.

to abolish work in favour of play.

The Situationists saw modern

Contemporary installation artists

capitalist society as an organisation

such as Carsten Höller can be seen

of spectacles: a frozen moment of

as belonging to this lineage. His

history in which it is impossible

installations aim to create situations

to experience real life or actively

that break the mystical illusion of the

participate in the construction of

spectacle and to disrupt it. In 2006

the lived world. They argued that

Carsten Höller’s Test Site was installed

the alienation fundamental to class

in the Turbine Hall of Tate Modern.

society and capitalist production

☞

has permeated all areas of social life,

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It comprised of five spiralling

entertainment, Höller recreated a

tubular slides that ran from the

carnival atmosphere in the gallery.

upper floors of the gallery to

Russian philosopher Mikhail

ground level. Sliding down was

Bakhtin discussed the carnival as

an experience that was both

celebrating »temporary liberation

physically and psychologically

(…) from the established order«.

intense. At the age of 13,

In engaging with the spirit of

experiencing the kind of euphoria

the carnival, Test Site suspends

brought about by sliding in an art

social order and asserts the

gallery was both confusing to me

value of »letting go«. It brings

as well as exciting. Unfamiliar

us face-to-face with the level of

as I was with the theories of

control exerted over our day-to-

the SI and accustomed to the

day lives through the physical

usual rules associated with

structures that mediate our

going to look at art — »don’t

activity: the way that towns,

touch«, »don’t run«, »be quiet«

cities and buildings are organised

— I couldn’t understand why a

to maintain obedience and

piece such as this was allowed

subservience on the part of their

within the gallery context.

inhabitants. The curator of Test Site Jessica Morgan asserts that

Höller caused participants to

the transformative effect on one’s

question their relationship to

behaviour offered by sliding will

their surroundings, each other

»subtly alter our outlook« and

and themselves. Even better, he

»provide an altered perspective«

did this in a way even a 13 year

through the exhilarating and

old could understand. It was

joyful experience it offers.

not overly intellectualised or inaccessible. By appropriating

☞

models of fairground

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However artwork that encompasses notions of »play« cannot maintain the same kind of power as Höller’s when it becomes repetitive or, even worse, expected. Test Site works against the notion of the selfreflected and self-controlled visitor and this can be valuable. However, once you begin to encounter this kind of work repeatedly, it begins to becomes a part of what you expect from a visit to an art gallery, rather than disrupting your experience and helping you »let go«.

You want to be entertained rather than reflective. Participatory art begins to become part of the spectacle rather than a disruption to it.

This can be confirmed by a

artwork and getting excited

visit to the new Tate Modern

about it. With the constant

extension. Room after room

interaction, however, it feels

contains art that invites you to

like the meanings of work often

interact with it, look into it, open

get lost. You can find yourself

it, and lie down in it. I found

wandering around looking for the

myself unable to reflect or engage

next interaction and forgetting

with the art I was »participating«

to actually contemplate the

in as I was too distracted by

work and your contact with it.

the experiences of other gallery goers. I was underwhelmed by

For many artists and curators

paintings and sculptures I have

the Situationist critique of the

previously been amazed by, my

spectacle strikes to the heart of

brain deadened by the expectation

why participation is important

of interaction and entertainment.

as a project: it rehumanises a

It is really refreshing to see

society rendered numb. However,

people engaging physically with

the discourse of participation

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no longer occupies a subversive,

boundaries of the »norm«. The

anti-authoritarian force. David

last year has seen a rise in the

Cameron’s »Big Society« for

number of adult-only »play«

example encourages participation

events taking place in Manchester

and community, yet it works

and the UK more generally. As

only to make citizens feel they

part of Manchester Science Festival

are involved, active and making

at the Museum of Science and

their own choices regarding

Industry an adult only ball pit

their lives, while distracting

was installed. Described as an

them from their actual

»interactive art installation«, Jump

passivity and lack of control.

In was the vision, not of artists but of a leading design agency.

Participation and play has been

They describe it as an experiment

neutralised through its repetition.

in art and science, aimed at

Play can only been seen as an

encouraging and inspiring

antidote to boredom and passivity,

creativity through play. Visitors

as »direct living«, when it takes

could drop in, sessions costing £5...

place outside the confines and

This craze for adult-play has now moved outside of the realm of art. Nightclubs such as Amusement 13 in Birmingham city centre are holding nights out filled with opportunities to play. The club sells »a night time experience designed to take you back to a freer, sillier state of being whilst enjoying a solid soundtrack of house, garage, drum & bass…

Get some air on the bouncy castle, lose yourself in the ball pit, bounce to old school garage and hip hop in a room devoted to space hoppers, get glitter artfully applied to your face for free by our talented make up artists, and bash some piñatas!!« Morning raves are yet another craze to hit the nation built on this idea of giving adults an opportunity to play. ☞

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In our society, »play« has become

and anxieties? This form of play

something seen as helpful for

is only giving temporary relief

relieving stress and anxiety, which

so that the workers can go back

can encourage more creative and

to their stations and build up

coherent thinking. These ideas are

their stresses all over again.

not dissimilar to those aligned with Situationist thought. The

Those really benefiting from this

idea essentially being to break out

new craze are bosses who gain

of your everyday experience, give

their employees back at work,

your brain a break and live, if only

refreshed and more willing to

for a few hours, freely. However,

work and the marketing agencies

can adult-play in the form that

and entertainment agencies

it is being sold to us, actually

who are profiting. Unlike the

achieve this? We have to look at

art of the 1960s and Carsten

who is really benefiting from this

Höller’s that sought to use play

fashion for play and whether it

to disrupt social order and to

really is encouraging us to »let go«.

disturb our passive submission to society's constraints, these

For example, a bouncy castle was

current attempts to encourage

installed on London’s South Bank

play can only be seen as

for three days (they have also been

contributing to our passivity.

popping up outside university libraries and offices). Here, smartly

Marketing strategists have

dressed office workers on their

jumped on the increased attention

lunch break are seen bouncing

to mental health issues and

away their worries. But is having

»mindfulness« and used this

a cathartic bounce after a hard

attention to take advantage

day in the office really dealing

of people who suffer from

with the root of people’s stresses

stressful everyday lives. ☞

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These forms of play are not without their own stresses either. Besides the fact that they often cost money they often come with an element of forced fun and encourage a certain type of »letting go« that isn’t for everyone. Anyone who’s ever been self-conscious of their clumsiness or felt awkward in these »fun« situations will know what I mean. If encouraged to bounce on a bouncy castle, attend a roller skating club night, or a sober rave I will be transported back to childhood, but not in a good way! Constant deliberations in my mind between whether I would rather feel like I was making a fool of myself or not join in and be called the »uptight« one come flooding back and fill me with fear.

Playing can be a successful way

Instead, it needs to be self-

to escape boredom, relieve stress,

governed or spontaneous,

and reconnect with the world

thought-provoking and engage

around you and with yourself. But

the brain in some way that

I’m cynical about the infantilising

differs from everyday. It can

commercial trend towards

be encouraged through art and

playfulness. The cure does not lie

achieved for some through music.

in colouring books, animal onesies,

The musician John Cage described

adult ball pools and soft play

music as »purposeless play ... an

nightclubs. Nor does it lie in the

affirmation of life not to bring

stifling confines of the huge art

order out of chaos or to suggest

institution that is Tate Modern.

improvements in creation, but simply a way of waking up to the very life we’re living«.

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In the modern city a maelstrom of sensory bombardments and activities surround us and therefore for play to really engage and help us it need not contribute to this.

What we identify as interesting, is often short-lived, quickly exhausted. The interesting becomes boring. We desperately seek satisfaction and the avoidance of boredom, through a wide array of entertainments and self-help techniques, yet these fail because they do not go beyond the confines of our privatized and commodified life experience.

We need to find for ourselves as individuals our own form of play that can survive outside of that and be carried out unfettered by the rules and regulations that surround us. â—Ž

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WORDS MAZ DUBLE

ILLUSTRATION ANTONIA STOYKE

Living Through Music Some of the most wonderful

listened to, which included 1990s and

moments with music are when

early millennial pop music. I became

there’s a seemingly spontaneous

periodically engrossed in these artists.

synchronicity. Like there’s a freedom

It felt like they were talking to me

about it, an unplanned playfulness,

in their performances. At the same

which just seems to »happen«.

time, in some sense, their story of

I »studied« music since I was a young

becoming a successful singer, playing

child. Some of my earliest musical

these innocent songs to the masses,

influences came from what my brother

seemed somewhat unattainable.

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Their route to musical fame

But actually, »Slide Show« wasn’t the

was like a fairytale – like

last track! There was a hidden track

winning the lottery.

called, »Blue Flashing Light«, raw – like you weren’t supposed to hear it – but

One Christmas, my godfather

once you found it, you were hooked.

asked what album I wanted as a present. To my brother’s

It was a glimpse into someone’s Saturday

surprise I veered away from

night. A song about someone waiting

the pop music to which we

around for their drunk partner to hurl

usually listened. I felt it was

abuse at them upon their return home.

time for a change. Based on just

It was a story of the everyday. Not some

the album cover, I picked the

perfect, unblemished love tale. The

band Travis' »The Man Who«.

sound was unrestrained and the lyrics unfiltered, telling the story as it was felt,

The last track on the album, »Slide Show«, starts off with

Cause it’s Saturday night.

the sound of a man closing

And your friends are all out.

the door of a car and driving

And you feel like shit.

off. It was just so ordinary, but

Cause they never call you.

signalled the end of the album

No they never call you.

so well! The band had finished

No they never call.

their time in the studio, and it

Never call. Never bloody ever…

was time to pack up and leave.

It had an honesty about it, a

One particular memory stands out as

directness which made the song

an epiphany, what turned out to be, my

very real and untampered with.

lifelong relationship with music. ☞

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My best friend Pete proposed we see his cousin’s band, Just Like Jimmy, perform at a pub. I didn’t know what to expect. There was all this sound coming from these guitars. It was a spicy mix of funk bass, distorted guitar and growling vocals singing songs with a horror theme. I remember one chorus line involved belting out,

»Just be yourself,

Just be yourself, be yourself.

be yourself.

Don’t let anybody tell you what to be!

Don't let anybody

tell you

Being a young teenager, this line

what to be!«

After that, music became a lot

really resonated with me. Just Like

freer. Playing whatever I wanted.

Jimmy opened up a possibility

Making sounds and lyrics up as I

that hadn’t yet occurred to me.

go along. Writing music, knowing

It showed me that anybody

it was uniquely mine. A sound

could play music. You could play

that I had made for the first time,

whatever music and have fun. You

just then. Similarly, playing with

didn’t need to be on a big stage,

others; it’s a fusion, a musical

playing the next worldwide hit.

relationship. Creating sounds that

You could just be you, playing

integrate a sonic representation

with those you get on with and

of each of its players. At the same

go for it. Pete suggested we start

time, resulting in something

our own band. So we did.

fresh which represents the group as a whole, and the particular

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relationships between the

are marginalised in society;

players at that time and place.

those who didn’t feel empowered and didn’t think everything

Exploring sounds on your own is

was okay. Playing together, we

an exploration of yourself. I spent

wrote music from all sorts of

a lot of time playing other people’s

genres, blues, indie and metal.

music. Then, feeling inspired, I found the energy to write myself.

Playing with others you connect

Playing with others makes you

with really makes up the person

think of sounds in a different

you become, inside the music

way, too. There are sounds that I

room but also outside. When

wouldn’t have considered and ways

you become immersed in playing

of playing I may not have tried, if

and writing music, you end up

it were not for playing with others.

thinking about melodies, rhythms and song structures all day. Your

I went on a musical journey with

daily living experience becomes

Pete. I listened to more genres and

one which you see with musical

sounds as a result. Each song and

lenses. It brings a new meaning

artist I listened to was a voice, a

and reality to how you experience

story, a feeling being portrayed

life. Ultimately, life comes out

to me. It made me feel like there

and is expressed in your musical

were others who understood

output. In what you choose to

what was going on in the world

play and the songs you write.

and were a voice for the people.

Music becomes a kind of creative,

Johnny Cash's »Man in Black«

expressive autobiography. Music

was the ultimate »outsider«

captures a person in sound.

song. It spoke about people who

☞

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I loved it, seeing other musicians,

falls off halfway through his

jamming for fun. The way they

guitar solo, and Robbie Robertson

would stop playing at the same

immediately takes over until

time for half a beat, and then

Clapton rehooks his strap onto

burst into a wave of musical

his guitar. It’s all the better that

energy, flowing together in a

something went wrong. It shows

graceful dance which had all been

that it’s happening right in front of

coordinated but made up on the

you, at that moment, in that way.

spot at the same time. I loved it

Unlock

when I played bass guitar in a funk band and took part in this same liberation of playing what you feel at that very moment.

Bouncing off what the others are playing; hearing, sensing and directing the living performance.

the sound

you.

inside

You play music with others as you are, then, at that very

You can see this in one of my

point in time. You all offer

favourite performances, »The

yourselves to the music, together,

Last Waltz« concert by the »The

communicating and expressing

Band«. It was a momentous gig,

yourselves through the notes you

with many legendary musicians,

decide to play as you play them.

but it looked like a gathering of friends who simply came together

It’s a kind of freedom, when those

to have fun and play the music

around you help you to unlock

they loved. There’s a great point

the sound inside you, and you

when Eric Clapton’s guitar strap

make it possible for them too. ◎

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Watching a Bee Expire in the Garden WORDS MK PUNKY

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Death and life are interchangeable,

inextricably entwined.

Without a brain there is no thinking,

no motor of the mind.

Fret not about the end impending

when you suppose you’ll not be able

to kiss and laugh – oh, all the pleasures

almost justifies the pain.

Without a wound there is no succor,

unwelcome drought, cherished rain.

Call it fated, then call it luck, or

consign your dance to humble measures.

But dance you must. And singing! Loudly.

And loving oddly. And now

you see that when the playing concludes

what’s left is not about how

or when you tamed unbearable moods.

No. Embrace your death – and life – proudly.

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NOUS MAG EIGHT ARE

Alex C. Renwick lives in Ottawa, Canada & Austin, Texas. Her fiction has been translated into ten languages and her poems have sold on three continents. More about Alex ☞ alexcrenwick.com Ami Nash is a Derry-born documentary filmmaker and writer whose work explores social, cultural and political issues. Her films follow drag queens, homeless eccentrics, skin heads, Irish republicans, sound healers, witches, and Moss Side gangsters.

Angus Stewart is a restless Scot with a fair share of bad habits and a degree in English and Creative Writing. He has been writing seriously for a few years now and has managed to put a peaceful novel, a violent novella, and two equally yin-yang collections of his writings up on the Amazon Kindle Store. He loves animals, lager, and evening sunlight. ☞ dustsymbols.tumblr.com Antonia Stoyke was born in 1987 in Gotha, Eastern Germany. In her past life she used to take pictures of nursery school kids and at weddings, now she studies Visual Communication at School of Art Weißensee, Berlin, living her dreams.

Dan Ryder is a poet who is from and lives in Doncaster. In 2015, he lived in Melbourne and was a poetry editor for Voiceworks. A recent graduate of the Manchester Writing School, he tweets ☞ @danr

Douglas W. Milliken is the author of the novel To Sleep as Animals and several chapbooks, most recently the pocket-sized editions Cream River and One Thousand Owls Behind Your Chest. His stories have been honoured by the Maine Literary Awards, the Pushcart Prize, Glimmer Train, and have been published in Slice, the Collagist, and the Believer, among others. ☞ douglaswmilliken.com Eleonora Bonanzinga is an Italian illustrator based in Parma. She collaborates with theatres, magazines, and takes part in different exhibitions. She lived in London for a while and travelled to Jerusalem, Tel Aviv, Bruxelles, Copenhagen, Keys Islands, Sedona, New York, and Berlin. Now, she lives and works in the foggy hills of Parma together with her precious little wolves which are her advisers and fog lights. ☞ behance.net/eleonoraetlabora Gary Beck has spent most of his adult life as a theatre director, and as an art dealer. His original plays and translations of Moliere, Aristophanes and Sophocles have been produced Off Broadway. His poetry, fiction and essays have appeared in hundreds of literary magazines. He currently lives in New York City.

George Odysseos is a bad-ass historian. He is trying to keep his head in the past so he doesn't have to worry about the future.

Delyth Telford ›Sometimes when faced with hell you simply have to sit and toast marshmallows on the flames‹. ☞ @delyth22.tumblr.com

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Hal O’Leary, now at age 91, has been published in 19 different countries. He lives by a quote from his son’s play Wine To Blood, ›I don’t know if there is a Utopia, but I am certain that we must act as though there can be.‹ Hal, a Pushcart nominee, with two books of poetry to his credit, is a recent recipient of an Honorary Doctor of Humane Letters degree from West Liberty University the same institution from which he became a college dropout some 60 years earlier. He currently resides in Wheeling, WV. Hendrik Schneider is a German graphic designer living and working in Hamburg. He enjoys the challenge of working between different disciplines. This motto also defines the approach of design agency Stick Up Studio, which he co-founded in 2012. A good example is their most recent book Views On Vegas, featuring forty-two portraits & interviews with Las Vegas citizens as well as a photographic exploration of the city beyond the famous Strip. ☞ stickupstudio.com ∙ hendrikschneider.de J. J. Steinfeld is a Canadian fiction writer, poet, and playwright who lives on Prince Edward Island, where he is patiently waiting for Godot’s arrival and a phone call from Kafka. While waiting, he has published sixteen books so far. His short stories and poems have appeared in numerous periodicals and anthologies internationally, and over forty of his one-act plays and some fulllength plays have been performed in North America.

Jacqueline Seewald, multiple award-winning author, has taught creative, expository and technical writing at Rutgers University as well as high school English. She also worked as both an academic librarian and

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an educational media specialist. Seventeen of her books of fiction have been published including books for adults, teens and children. Her work has appeared in hundreds of diverse publications and numerous anthologies such as: The Writer, L.A. Times, Reader’s Digest, Pedestal, and many more. Her website can be found at ☞ jacquelineseewald. blogspot.com Jake Duff rearranges the drunkenly incoherent, spittle-flecked notes he wakes up next to into poetry and experimental fiction. His debut poetry collection Horarium, and consecutive release Yetzer Hara are available ☞ teamtridentpress.com Jameson Kergozou is an English photographer and journalist based in Gdańsk, Poland.

He is also the founder of Paw Paw, an independent publisher, and O Brave New World a blog on Polish Culture ☞ bravenwblog.wordpress.com Jessica Higgins co-founder of Glaswegian institution Good Press, vocalist of musical cowabunga Vital Idles, a Sculpture and Environmental Art graduate of Glasgow School of Art, helped gather the conversations featured in our community poster feature with AIMS Advocacy, a free service employing independent advocates for people who have difficulty speaking up. ☞ goodpressgallery.co.uk & vitalidles.bandcamp.com & theadvocacyproject.org.uk Joanna Simpson is a Leeds based fine artist and illustrator: ›HAND DRAWN DRAWINS FER RYT SASSY GRLS AND BOYS‹ ☞ joannadont.tumblr.com

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John Molesworth is a recent graduate from Camberwell, where he studied illustration.

His work takes a bold, colourful and process driven approach across his portfolio, whether it’s paintings or posters, publications or drawings. ☞ johnmolesworth.co.uk Justė Urbonoavičiūte is a freelance photographer and illustrator based in Vilnius, Lithuania. She likes drawing faces, other body parts as well as surreal and absurd compositions. ☞justesmwhr.tumblr.com Liv D’Cruz is a graphic designer and academic researcher for independent publisher GraphicDesign&, with a specialist interest in the Philosophy of Consciousness. ☞ oliviadcruz.com Lucie Knights graduated from Manchester School of Art in 2016. She is an illustrator and designer, currently working at a major arts festival based in Norwich. ☞ luciemknights.com Lucy Grainge is a Mancunian in her final year at Glasgow School of Art, studying illustration. In her work she is currently looking at the link between dyslexia and creativity. She enjoys avoiding coursework by taking on extra-curricular projects. ☞ lucygrainge.com Lucy Jones is an illustrator, designer and printmaker. Her work primarily focuses on mark making with line, ink, and texture, whilst combining collage and type, resulting in colourful and playful illustrations. ☞ lucyjonesillustration.com

Maita Hajiioannidou works under the pen name ma[t]ita colorata. She draws human figures, or parts of the body, as well as flowers and plants, depicting love and scenes of the everyday. Inevitably, she observes the plants while growing with her and observes the bodies while dancing with her. Maita works as an architect and graphic designer in Thessaloniki. ☞ matitacolorata-sketchblock.tumblr.com Marco Armbruster was born in the Black Forest in 1988. He studied Communication Design focused on Illustration at University of Applied Sciences Mainz. He now works as freelance illustrator and designer in Germany. ☞ armarco.de Matilda Roberts lives and works in Manchester. She regularly contributes to The State of the Arts, focusing on contemporary art and the politics of participation. Supporting arts ability to interrupt & disrupt ones inert thoughts and its capacity for encouraging social change, Matilda writes critically of the gallery space and is drawn to art that intersects with daily life and takes place outside the realms of the art institution. ☞ thestateofthearts.co.uk Matt Mullins is a freelance artist & filmmaker working from Manchester. Matt enjoys working with film, paint, installation and design. In 2015 he worked on a documentary about the positive impact creativity can have on mental health, which was screened in the UK and across Europe. ☞ cargocollective.com/mattmullins

Madalina Preda is a writer, activist, and photographer currently based in Amsterdam. ☞ madalinapreda.com

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Matthew Harrison lives in Hong Kong, and whether because of that or some other reason entirely his writing has veered from non-fiction to literary and he is currently reliving a boyhood passion for science fiction. He has published numerous SF short stories and is building up to longer pieces as he learns more about the universe. Matthew is married with two children but no pets as there is no space for these in Hong Kong. ☞ matthewharrison.hk Maz Dublé is a philosophy graduate from Warwick University who has spent much of his career in support work of various kinds.

His interests include music and travel. ☞ @MazDuble Mercedes Webb-Pullman‘s latest work The Jean Genie explores the work of Jean Genet through a series of contemporary sonnets.

She lives on the Kapiti Coast, New Zealand.

Michaela Pointon is hughely inspired by mid-century design and travel. A graduate of Visual Communication at Glasgow School of Art she now lives and works in London. ☞ @martiillustration.com Miriam Avery is a Literature graduate, Children's Mental Health Nurse, writer, and researcher. She is very interested in creativity and alternative therapies as ways to care for the mind and body, currently exploring the use of yoga as therapy. She is also experimenting with writing styles which are not academic... this is one of her first experiments.

MK Punky Author of ten books, most recently The Termite Squad, MK Punky was a founding member of 80’s hardcore band The Clitboys. He serves as poet laureate of Vista Street Community Library in Los Angeles.

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Nick Taylor is a freelance illustrator and music obsessive who lives and works in Sheffield, UK. He combines hand-drawn elements with collage and enjoys playing with texture, mark-making and printing techniques to create dynamic compositions. ☞ @nicktaylorillustration.co.uk Nicolai Diekmann is a graphic designer and illustrator, based in Hamburg. He's got a passion for graphic design, illustration, typography and sweets. Follow him via Instagram ☞ nicolaidiekmann or visit ☞ littlepictureshow.tumblr.com Noel Heath recently graduated from the heady worlds of pot-washing and cleaning the rooms of hospitalised dying alcoholics, he now lives in Trondheim with his partner Hanne. He reads, scribbles, erases and fights the slow-moving glacier that is failure. Noel studied Race & Resistance Movements, now he plays Playstation 4.

Olivia Havercroft is a PhD student at the University of Manchester, studying the history of psychology and urban space. In her spare time Olivia develops projects to provide a platform for women writers, artists and musicians, including running the music zine and collective Can You Hear Me Now?. ☞ canyouhearmenowzine.tumblr.com Rin Johnson is a Brooklyn based sculptor and poet. Johnson is the author of two books, Nobody Sleeps Better Than White People from Inpatient Press and the forthcoming VR Book, Meet in the Corner from Publishing House. Johnson founded Imperial Matters (a space for liquid poetry) with Sophia Le Fraga. ☞ imperialmatters.com Sharon Tully Odysseos from humanity and am defined by humanity.

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Tony Allen is a visual artist, songwriter, and skateboarder currently living in York. He likes keeping sketchbooks and draws inspiration from reportage and life drawing whenever he can.

Vaska Trajkovska is a creative coach, storyteller, and documentary maker with a mission to help people tap into their creativity and curiosity. With a background in social anthropology, she has a decade of experience in creating audio documentaries, recording life stories, and coaching people to create lives and careers that bring them alive. ☞ @the-curious-cat.com

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