Cultural Studies as Intervention

Audio recording of the Zine Archive and Publishing Project (ZAPP) space. Includes the sound of a typewriter, laptop, music playing in the background, and pages being turned.

the brief honk of a car horn. a hollow tin thud and cheers from the baseball field. a fan turning in a computer tower – starting, then cooling, and turning off. The low hum of an oscillating fan. click, click, click. release. fingernails clacking on laptop keys. mechanized punches of letters machined into the surface of paper – punctuated thoughtful slapping clacks. DING! boxes whispered from shelves. plastic bags crinkling under the delicate weight of fingers pushing and pressing, pausing, then unsheathing, cool plastic slapping on a table surface. DING! a box slid back into place, smooth friction. a thumb fans the edges of gathered paper. paper rubs between fingers, catching as it bows. the melody of guitar strumming radiates from a speaker on the floor, circulating around table legs and shelving fixtures.

Ordinarily I begin a zine workshop by asking everyone if they know what a zine is, if they have ever made one; however, I ask you - the reader - to define the body of the zine through “doing,” through creating. Zine is an action and an alternate way of producing knowledge. I challenge you to accept the defects and accidents of “doing” that take place through feeling and touching, cutting and tearing, adhering, finding something in the ruptured edges and jagged sutures.

Materials you will need: Bristol board, sharpies, scissors, typewriter, pencils, pens, long arm stapler, glue stick, and other materials as desired.

Exercise: Gather newspapers, magazines, paper from the recycling bin, old bills, candy wrappers, text from old books, articles on theory from graduate school, old letters, short notes, sheet music, screenshots of Facebook or Twitter - whatever you find that you would like to cut, tear, and suture into a zine.

How can you engage in the practice of ripping, tearing, cutting, gluing, and creating to make these images and text your own? How might you write over and through the images and text selected to make it your own? How might your story overwrite these images and text? How can you interrupt the meaning represented in these materials?

A Call to Action

Zines[1] brought me to the conversation of cultural studies and frames my experience as cultural activist and scholar. At a time when social movements increasingly look to the Internet and the power of social media as a register for activism I am concerned about the place off-line independent publishing holds and what gets lost in this transition to online activism. These concerns are twofold. Accessibility is my chief concern. Who has access to and is able to engage when the primary method of communication and organizing is mediated by the Internet? I do not wish to position myself as a Luddite, decrying the shift to the online in raising awareness of social issues and movements; rather, I question the textuality of this approach, which brings me to my second concern: disciplining. In what ways is the writing you, dear reader, are reading right now, in this online space disciplined according to regimes of language and grammar? How does this text, created, organized, and finished in Microsoft Word, comply with certain standards of professionalization and perfection? While I acknowledge that social organizing using the Internet has been effective and that zines as social texts present their own issues of accessibility, there is an immediacy to the zine text that comes through in spelling/grammar errors, handwriting, and playing with powerful visual representations through the cult of the photocopy. 

In his essay, “Reading as poaching,” de Certau talks about the involvement of the body in reading, and the “modern” experience serving to distance the reader bodily from the text, going on to state, “[this] withdrawal of the body, which is the condition of its autonomy, is a distancing of the text. It is the reader’s habeas corpus.”[2] I bring in this conversation to highlight how handwriting and manipulation of text seeks to break down the modernizing autonomy of the reader, bringing them bodily into the “reading” of the zine. Zines often seek to bring the body of the reader into the zine space, where they must turn, twist, bend, refract and perform other movements in order to collaborate with a text. Making and reading the zine requires the body, it is not a passive moment, but demands action and active collaboration with the text. The reader is not freed from this zine, they are not separate; instead they are deeply and physically involved in it, embedded in its movements. Zines necessitate active engagement, making the act of reading foreign and strange, rendering the familiar unfamiliar. Through my own interventions I have been thinking about zines and their ability to cultivate reading as activism, the body of the zine disrupting unquestioned and normative notions of identity and subjectivity, calling on readers to become uncomfortable with the passive gesture of reading and animate them to action.

Researching / Producing Outside of the Academy

Zine Archive andPublishing Project (ZAPP) has been a site outside of the academy where I have been able to test out intervention as a practice through hands-on creative collaboration and research among the zine collection. I became affiliated with ZAPP in 2008 and the work I was doing prompted larger questions around the actions of zine making and reading. Through my activities of consulting and later volunteering with ZAPP I became instantly drawn to its anti-archive feel. My previous experience had been in more formal archive settings, and I was always a little put off by the pristine archival boxes, white gloves, and temperature controlled and policed environment. The material surrounding me in the archive felt inaccessible, and my movements and actions were under constant surveillance. There were specific movements and self-regulation required of bodies in an archive space. The ZAPP space turned that model on its head for me; ZAPP defines itself as a “living” archive, where the emphasis is on using the zine collection as a site for research or inspiring one to create their own zine. This is fundamentally different from the traditional archive space, which serves as a secure repository for important historical documents. The modern archive draws in a research public, from the community member interested in history or genealogy to the scholar invested in seeking out intense textual research. Within this model of the modern archive certain professional behaviors are produced, both on the part of the archivist and the scholar/researcher, which creates unquestioned assumptions of archives as neutral repositories for material circulating in a culture. The zine archive on the other hand is, as one volunteer stated, “a labor of love.” Sustained largely by volunteer labor, ZAPP is closely connected to fan cultures through its largely collection-based archive. Those interested in an arts-based approach or drawn to the undisciplined and uncensored conversations in the zine are primary among the volunteer labor that contributes to and supports this space. Writers and readers who come to ZAPP are interested in literature and writing, and the zine is an alternative format to fixed text-based approaches to writing with the ability to bring in images and handwriting to supplement and create other types of writing (and reading). Through my affiliation and partnership with ZAPP, my approach to librarianship and archives work has changed, where I see the archive as a vital site for traditional scholarship, as well as a location for creativity, collaboration, and conversation.

Gender & Sexuality

Conversations of gender and sexuality are central to my creative collaboration and intervention practices, and provide a critical framework for interrogation and critical analysis. A response essay from first quarter provided an early moment to begin bringing these conversations to the forefront and think through them as sites of inquiry.[3] What was of interest to me in this framing of gender intelligibility was not a simplistic dichotomy of male/female, but a sincere curiosity about the regulating power of gender regimes:

How is gender read in or on the body? When coming into a world that pre-exists us how does surface, a series of movements or gestures, ‘energy,’ create a language with which we speak, communicate, and transmit/produce knowledge? If our gender is unintelligible, misread or misunderstood, how does it threaten the legitimacy of hegemonic gender structures?

Using these framing questions, I began to articulate my specific interest in the way bodies are disciplined in order to comply with dominant norms of gender and sexual presentation/performance, and how, through creative intervention and collaboration, I might begin to question and challenge these norms. As a larger size queer cisgender woman I daily experience my own disciplining functions of gender and sexuality regulation as I move through the world, and through creative intervention I have had the opportunity to address and bust through these limitations. I have seen this emerge in my own collaborative work, which seeks to challenges notions of my own gender and sexual intelligibility operating in the culture, but I have also seen this in my textual research of zines in the queer and trans section of ZAPP. Written and creative work produced through the cultural studies program has allowed me to think critically about the power of identity formations and how this can be both a space for freedom of movement and expression, as well as a restriction of movement.

Intervention Practices: Thinking and Doing with the Zine

My engagement within cultural studies has been to seek out primarily creative methods for intervening in hegemonic sense-making representations of normativity. Throughout the MACS program I have been able to examine and engage in a creative praxis rooted in multiple modalities of presentation and documentation: zines, video, sound, text, performance, and image.

While I have worked with zines before, I had neither created a zine or considered the zine as a media intervention prior to entering the cultural studies program. A course in media and representation provided me with critical insight into using the method of media intervention to think through and with the zine. “FigANA: (according to the movement of arrows)” marked the first in a series of collaborative zines made with classmate and partner-in-crime, Ari D. Roy, and supplemented a discourse analysis, “Consuming the Other (and feeling really good about it): Empowering Women with Every Purchase.”[4] The discourse analysis took the form of a traditional scholarly paper and sought to explore ideologies of female empowerment in visual and textual representations of fair trade chocolate; the collaborative zine merged with Roy and her focus on consumption of and by the female body.

FigANA fused both our interests, bringing together elements of fair trade chocolate production/consumption, sexuality, and global commodity chains. By integrating a references page and providing a statement of positionality in the zine, we sought to create an academic intervention into this media format, and also bring the zine as a form of knowledge production and media intervention into the academy. Our positionality statement situated our use of the zine in this way:

Positionality statement from FigANA: (according to the movement of arrows)

While the traditional scholarly essay is privileged as a type of intervention, zines are an important alternative knowledge production that has the possibility of bridging audiences that are (or can be) restricted to the academy. FigANA: (according to the movement of arrows) was the first zine created collaboratively with Roy and provided a space to think about food, bodies, and sexuality in movement. The arrows present throughout are the most obvious symbolic surrogate for movement in the zine space. A representation of me and Roy as fig and banana brought our own bodies into the zine and in a symbolic form tied to global food production (banana) and sexuality (fig). This work creates the activation - the movement - the zine space/body provides. The fig and the banana serve to “move” the reader through the zine, taking one on a tour of production and consumption - including our own. The assignment in the media and representation class called for an intervention. The opportunity was there and we took action. The critical discourse analysis paper then became a critical and structured intervention into representations of women in chocolate production/consumption, as well as the movement of a commodity across global paths, but the zine laid that out on the page, inviting visual engagement from the reader in a way that a traditional paper might be a passive reading.

Through my own practice, I have come to understand the zine as a critical tool for intervention. This practice has also fostered a space for non-censorship, and a place/location/site for work-shopping complex and difficult ideas. Creating zines is a chaotic and messy experience, but through this hands-on experience I have been able to examine my process and loosen up some of my self-regulating ideas about what academic work looks like. FigANA and the discourse analysis are two products that function together: the critical discourse analysis, produced as a traditional scholarly paper, and the zine, operating outside of an exclusively computer-mediated environment. The zine merges my and Roy’s research focus, and also creates a messy, undisciplined space for thinking about the fair trade chocolate industry and how an ideology of female empowerment is manufactured through powerful media representations. Roy’s piece brought in conversations of the female body and consumption through advertising. Emerging from this collaborative project is a zine that seeks to intervene in dominant representations from a critical feminist and post-colonial perspective.

I acknowledge the zine, often situated outside of and in deference to dominant cultural norms, is still in relation to and disciplined by its own counter- or subcultural norms. The Riot Grrrl movement gave birth to a vibrant punk rock music scene, along with an explosion of zines demanding “revolution girl style now”; however, the Riot Grrrl Movement, as one facet of third wave feminism, has been critiqued for not being a social movement with meaningful inclusion of conversations of race. The same could be said of the American hardcore movement and it’s indifference towards issues of gender and sexuality. Punk social movements, of which zines operate as a material circulated in and among its membership, are often listed under the heading of alternative/counterculture/subculture. I don’t wish to propagate an ideology of alternative/counterculture/subculture as a wholly liberating space. In terms of operations of power in a culture, Foucault clearly states, “Where there is power, there is resistance, and yet, or rather consequently, this resistance is never in a position of exteriority in relation to power,” an assertion extending to the zine.[5] Creative intervention might be an interrogation of dominant norms, but in the collaborative zine work I have undertaken and participated in I have no illusions that this is a format for utopic realizations. Even when engaging with disciplining functions of normativity, and resisting this, I do recognize my own ability to participate in creative interventionary praxis (or participate in my free time) from a privileged position. In an issue of Brainscan 21, Alex Wrekk states, "We live in a society that celebrates and reveres leaders, people who can get things done or get other people to do things and this is so very often reflected in our subcultures as well.” I bring up this conversation because I have been challenged within the educational institution and within the zine archive by use of the term subculture or alternative, which creates a separate, and therefore privileged and liberated, category of existence in the larger culture. Such separations only serve to isolate a practice or group from the larger culture in which they operate, while harboring some of the same forces; these forces can function within hierarchies of inequality along lines of unacknowledged privilege. Hierarchies of oppression very often still operate within these subcultures.

I also acknowledge my ability to participate in creative interventions from a safe and comfortable distance within the academy, and understand how the tone and gesture of the zine is greatly impacted by my own theoretical and privileged position. Zines can serve as a necessary organizational tool for a community event or to flag disagreement within a dominant system. The Bend-It Collective, an organizing group made up of queer youth and older allies, holds a yearly Bend-It Extravaganza in conjunction with the Gay Pride Parade, seeking to create space for queer youth barred from accessing certain events due to age restrictions. In celebration of Gay Pride they put out a zine announcing weekend activities and workshops, bands and performances, as well as information about anti-oppression work they do to foster a safe space. Bend-It Collective aims to raise awareness through anti-oppression education and caucuses, which reinforces their mission to create a safe space for queer youth to be creative, have fun, and collaborate. Zines have been a physical media format central to the Bend-It Extravaganza, and helps to orient attendees and provide information about the event. It is distributed in print form for the primary purpose of accessibility.

Intervention, creative collaboration, and discourse analysis are three critical cultural studies methods I have gained through this program. By not creating a zine during one quarter I realized how my own traditional scholarly work suffered as a result. At this point, I had to admit that I really value and need creative intervention to facilitate some of those ideas and intersections. While zines and other forms of media production can be seen as residing outside of traditional knowledge production, I see their value as an essential supplement to my own critical engagement with formations and intersections in the field of cultural studies. In my own experience, zine making as knowledge product has been treated as supplemental to, not a surrogate for, traditional scholarly writing. Traditional scholarly work in the academy takes the form of the publishable book or article, the essay or what one professor referred to as “capital t The capital e Essay.” From this division I consider notions of body-based works, performance, visual, or otherwise that, through their very movement or aesthetics, create noise in the ivory tower. This complicates the structure, efficiency, logic, and order that make up and reinforce what is desired. Journal articles, books, and book chapters are the currency of the academic system. Through alternative knowledge production, primarily through media intervention, I hope to find other ways to “speak” or “do” the “work” of academia.

Collaborating: Do it Yourself, Do it With Others

Through investigations and actions in cultural studies, I have been able to articulate, plan, and execute projects on my own and in collaboration with others. Collaborating has come easy with Roy and fostered an environment productive of both friendship and critical interventions through zine work. We both have different interests in cultural studies: I focus on issues of gender and sexuality and she on disability and embodiment. As self-identified queer women with atypical ideas of our gender presentation and sexuality practices, our combined efforts suture most easily along lines of the performance of queerness and sexuality. Through my collaboration with Roy I have realized a desire for a certain type of interaction, one that is open and flexible, and most importantly, a partnership that is actively engaged and passionate. Collaborating with someone who wants me direct them and tell them what to do is an attempt that will fall flat. I have discovered through collaborating with others that it is difficult, if not impossible, for me to carry the passion of two people. Through an exercise during fall quarter 2012 I had the opportunity to reflect on the value and challenges of working with others on a project:

I have learned it is absolutely essential to be part of a group or collaboration that functions well, has open and honest communication, and, even though we are all very busy and have lots of things going on in our lives, we can still come together to do something that is creative and stretches the boundaries of knowledge production, as well as our own understanding. At a time when there is so much emphasis on purchasing and consuming, collaboration is an important function toward seeing and creating intersections between seemingly disparate elements, and can put into focus larger connections and implications for political struggle. The collaborative cookbook project, and collaboration in general, has raised questions about how collaboration can be meaningful in a Euro- American, westernized society and cultural moment that emphasizes individualistic achievement? More importantly, how is collaboration possible beyond the MACS program, or even outside the institution? In a time of insurmountable pressure to achieve, to move, to excel, to progress, how can we be collaborative, bearing in mind the issues and limitations that compete with collaboration?[6]

Using traditional and media-based work, as well as external engagement and participation, I have been able to contribute to a rich and dynamic body of work that shifts between the theory and practice approaches that are foundational to the cultural studies field. Collaborating with volunteers, interns, and staff of ZAPP to create presentations and workshops has provided a way to serve as researcher, educator, activist, and artist; this has not been one-sided. In the past two years I have coordinated with members of ZAPP to co-present at the Women Who Rock (Un)conference (WWR) in Seattle. These were highly involved events, bringing myself and workshop collaborators together to brainstorm and draft a proposal for WWR, and work within ZAPP to select zines as examples and inspiration in the session. The inaugural WWR event was test of the theory and practice elements I have struggled with as a cultural worker. Merging activists, musicians, artists, and scholars, this event was an important moment where I was witness to a merging of theory and practice in the form of photography, film, music, self-documentation, and activism. While I had already arranged to make a zine with Roy, my experiences at the WWR event made this media project an absolute necessity.

In the action of creative collaboration I am curious how this can happen in a way that is equitable and ethical of all participants involved. My experiences have been exclusively one-on-one or in a small group, and the projects that emerge have been reflective of that; however, during winter quarter 2012 I participated in a 7-person, class-size collaboration culminating in a session at the Women Who Rock (un)conference in Seattle that was a challenge to prior collaborative efforts. After WWR, the class reflected on the experience and critical questions were raised about the organization and governing dynamics of a small group that I had not considered, but feel is a vital conversation to have in any group project (and is so often not had). Considerations for different styles of working together, methods of governance and decision-making were not factored into our process, and while the session ran smoothly and was a beneficial experience, addressing foundational issues of group dynamics and governance with a group of our size would have set up a system of representation and engagement for everyone involved. As I move forward as a cultural worker, I will make this a consideration in future collaborations within which I participate.

This is a Test Project: We Interrupt Your Regularly Scheduled Programming to Conduct . . . an Intervention

The This is a Test project is an extensive body of materials borne of creative collaboration and developed throughout several smaller works that aimed to interrogate the binary of hetero- and homonormativity, which both operate as a disciplining function in the culture. It began as an interest by Roy and I in staging an intervention into dominant and personal narratives we find ourselves a part of or imposed upon us. At the same time, I became interested in glitch aesthetics and suggested this as a possible idea for a zine to complete a collaborative cookbook exercise. Together we created a zine that was a visual interruption in everyday knowing, challenging the daily programming of everything existing outside of this space. There were several pieces to this project, of which one was constituted by the collaborative efforts of Roy and I in the initial zine. Personally, I find I am pinned down by or eclipsed by expected behavior associated with my sexual and gender presentation in mainstream and alternative notions of femininity, masculinity, and everything in between. The collaborative cookbook assignment created during fall quarter 2012 marked the beginning of the This is a Test project, providing the opportunity to work with Roy and tackle normative notions of gender and sexuality from a very personal perspective. Using a combination of solid-color paper and transparencies, we used predominantly images of ourselves to create a personal intervention into normative notions of gender and sexuality, but also pulled in the emergency alert system color band to create a visually recognizable intervention into everyday life. Working with Roy on the collaborative cookbook assignment allowed us to create an intervention that was a visual and ideological interruption. The This is a Test collaborative cookbook zine, through its inclusion of our own personal histories and use of different materials, allowed us to use visual and textual elements that sought to render the familiar unfamiliar. This project allowed me to begin seeing the operation of the aesthetics of activism or visual activism. The scrolling closed captioned text, the interruption and glitching of images within the zine, all functioned to bring the reader in, but with the aim of interrupting one’s daily programming.

After the collaborative cookbook exercise I engaged in a series of multimedia projects including image and video manipulation.[7] Small image and video projects built up to a larger zine and video project that was a scrambling of hetero- and homonormative representations through the use of glitch, using WordPad, Microsoft Paint, and Audacity to manipulate images and datamoshing software for video.

These projects were intended for an existing audience already engaging in the act of media manipulation with the intent of creating or thinking about meaning in a different way; it was also created with a self-taught, Do-it-Yourself (DIY), queer media-making public in mind. Performance-based work in the queer community through burlesque and variety shows, spoken word and poetry events, and multimedia-based presentations is part of a thriving arts-based culture in the greater Seattle area. Zine-making has long been – and continues to be – a format for creating personal and collective narratives off-line, but in the last 10 years the queer body and voice have come center stage, activating the text and giving voice to dissent through bodily performance. Queer writing organization, Bent Institute organizes weekly spoken word events. Several performance-based queer art collectives have emerged staging burlesque and variety shows at least once a month. While the embodied approach to queer arts and activism is the most active and performative way to engage and be visible, zines can function in widespread distribution networks and transcend the boundaries of a region or state. These projects were also intended for ZAPP where the visitor might view the content and linked projects of this zine and imagine a world where the glitch could transform the meaning of a powerful representation.

Through learning more about glitch aesthetics I took on more images and video to purposefully glitch them. I looked up hetero and homonormative images in Google Images and embedded text from manifestos into the WordPad reading of those images and saved them. My intent was to scramble the meaning of these images, to make their common sense unintelligible, which could be done simply by saving them in a software platform other than that which it is accustomed to being used. Including manifesto text into the image opened up the realm of scrambling meaning by embedding intention into the bits of illegible matter that make up these images.

The This is a Test project brought in different kinds of media interventions, and provided multiple entry points to work across the textuality of representation. Aspects of these projects are extremely messy: a scramble of littered text in “reading” an image through WordPad; sifting through my personal archive to cull material from my life experiences and interactions; piecing together remnants of audio and video to create a five-minute video. Throughout this process I allowed the mess to take place, the sutures to show. Exposing the jagged sutures through production was central to the process and embedded in the messiness of the material body of the product.

Writing through the image of gay white male sailors with Queers of Color manifesto

Glitched image of gay white male sailors

Also included in this project was my first experiments in violently merging created and found film, where two segments were mashed together in a process termed datamoshing. This video method included an audio component of the manifesto of Ari and I, articulated under the heading, “WE ARE THE BAD GAZE”:











The This is a Test Project culminated in a zine substituted as a final research paper for Writing Through the Image. Created entirely in PowerPoint, This is a Test Project was a creative disuse of a presentation product (i.e., PowerPoint) for the purposes of layout of the zine, and is a synthesis of the starting points of the collaborative cookbook assignment, as well as visual elements culled from the available digital detritus of the Internet.

Epistemologies of Intervention

The This is a Test Project was a critical step in articulating my interest in visual activism, providing me with a method to “think with glitch.”[8] Through this project I saw similarities between thinking with glitch and thinking with zines; both of these epistemologies were central to my interrogation of normativity, giving me valuable tools for intervening in dominant sense-making representations. Thinking with glitch and zines has provided me with a methodology for intervention where I question dominant values through this interaction, this misreading, and misunderstanding, and consider the possibilities it holds for creating new meanings.

I came to cultural studies a practicing librarian and archivist hoping to fuse my passion and work with zines together with my interests in interdisciplinarity; contiguous with this is my history and participation as a queer cisgender woman in the United States. Cultural studies, through its emphasis on theory and practice, has provided space to examine my work in libraries and archives and question the unquestioned objectivity of this position. The work of Halberstam (2003), highlighting the participant archivist, provides a framework for creating and participating in queer art and activism outside the academy:

For a new generation of queer theorists – a generation moving from the split between densely theoretical queer theory in a psychoanalytic mode, on the one hand, and strictly ethnographic queer research, on the other – new queer cultural studies feeds off of and back into subcultural production. The academic might be the archivist or a co-archivist or they might be a fully-fledged participant in the subcultural scene that they write about. Only rarely does the queer theorist stand wholly apart from the subculture, examining it with an expert’s gaze.[9]

The importance of active participation in the culture one documents, or even self-documentation, is one way I see myself operating as a cultural worker in the world. The work of the Women Who Rock (WWR) Project highlights this approach as well, emphasizing - from a Chicana feminist perspective - archives as activism (archi-vista) and art as activism (arti-vista). The value of documentation and self-documentation is an activist intervention, fostering the idea that the archivist is no longer a distanced observer, but a participant in chosen spaces, cultures, and actions.

This program has provided me with critical questions about my archives practice: how can archives and archivists stage more interventions into the work they do and the spaces they create? How can the practice of archives and archivists be expanded to areas outside of the institution that are actively creating culture? How can the archive and archives work be more conscious of the work it does selecting and curating materials in its collection? As I move forward into the next phase of my involvement with ZAPP I will be obtaining oral histories from zine writers/creators present in the Queer and Trans section and putting together a zine on the outcomes of this project; it will be freely available and distributed to other zine archive spaces. Cultural studies, the conversations it has created, the theory and practice framework it has put into action, and the creative intervention and collaboration will be invaluable tools for me as a cultural worker.

[1] Zine is short for fanzine and is most easily characterized as an independently, self-published serial publication for distribution to a variety of groups. Zines have been used to provide information about other zines, bands, science fiction, sports, comics, feminism, queer politics, and a variety of other topics. Primarily, zines are free of the constraints of mainstream media production and are usually produced by individuals or collaboratively created with one or more people.

[2] Michel de Certeau, “Reading as Poaching,” in The Practice of Everyday Life (Berkeley, CA: University of California Press, 1984), 176.

[3] See artifact: 2_RSCD_11.doc

[5] Michel Foucault, The History of Sexuality, Volume I: An Introduction, Vintage Books. (New York, NY: Random House, 1990), 95.

[7] See artifact: 6_BCULST 587 [Folder]

[8] In her essay The Glitch Moment(um), artist and scholar Rosa Menkman emphasizes this practice as an epistemology, asserting, “To think with glitch is to straddle a gap between non-sense and knowledge” (p. 66). I introduce this here, because I wish to explore similarly in thinking with the zine. Rosa Menkman, The Glitch Moment(um), Network Notebooks 04 (Amsterdam: Institute of Network Cultures, 2011),

[9] Judith Halberstam, “What’s That Smell?: Queer Temporalities and Subcultural Lives,” International Journal of Cultural Studies 6, no. 3 (2003): 322.

Subpages (2): Artifacts Capstone Essay