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painting by kerry madison
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contributors! emma pesin glenn federico jordan meiland emily moreno kerry madison noah rigby blake soule emily christ kelly cashman synovia roberts britt trachtenberg julia cowitt
your submissions and support allow us to do what we do, thank you! gutter mag loves you xoxo,
bailey hummel (they/ them/ theirs) editor in chief and layout editor
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illustrations by emma pesin
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TRUE GRIT by jordan meiland
Michael Murro holding up the final drawing for Sunstroke’s ‘Gritty’ shirt, photo by Jordan Meiland
No benefit merchandise stood out quite like Sunstroke’s “Gritty” shirt. The Philadelphia-based punk outfit’s second benefit shirt is eye-catching. Designed by teacher and artist Michael Murro, it featured Philadelphia Flyers mascot Gritty tearing the hood off a Klansman to reveal a pig underneath. On the back is the phrase “EXPOSE & DESTROY RACISM,” written in big cartoon-like lettering. “It’s a head turner for sure,” said Grady Allen, a fan that bought the shirt. “I remember seeing it on, I think, Twitter, and thinking ‘holy s**t, this thing is crazy. I have to buy it.” Sunstroke, like many of their peers in the American hardcore music scene, have joined the fight for racial justice, which
resurged after the killing of George Floyd in late May. Benefit merchandise, with proceeds going towards charities and funds related to the movement, is one way bands are pitching in on the financial front. According to Sean Farlow, lead singer of Sunstroke, the decision to do the Gritty shirt came about for a number of reasons. “The Gritty shirt was the first purely-benefit shirt that we did,” he explains. “After we listed the leftover Joeysxworld collab shirts for charity, I decided that I wanted to do another shirt deliberately as a benefit shirt. That’s when I hit up Mike and said ‘hey! I have this idea for a benefit shirt, want to get involved?’” Murro agreed, and in mid-June, work on designing the shirt began. Working for 1-2
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hours a day over the course of several days, he worked tirelessly on the design, especially on aspects like the positioning and scaling of the characters. “I don’t know if many people know this,” Murro said, “but mascots for Philly team’s kind of transcend the sport I feel.” “Yeah, Gritty has kind of become the symbol of ANTIFA,” Farlow adds. “At least in Philly. I’ve seen signs at protests with Gritty on them and I just think it’s funny.” When the design was finished, he sent it to Farlow, the shirts were ordered and in no time, they were selling. Proceeds for the shirt were split between two causes: The Bread & Roses Community Fund and the Up Against the Law Legal Collective. B&R received ~$300 while UATL received ~$500. When asked about the decision to benefit these entities, Farlow explained that a lot of bail funds for protesters have received plenty of donations and collectives, such as UATL, haven’t. UATL helps pay attorney fees which, Farlow explains, helps individuals acquire better legal representatives.
“After we posted the shirt, I did get some people in my DM’s that weren’t too pleased with it,” he explained. “So, I talked it out with them. We had discussions about it and resolved it in private with conversation.” Allen, a resident of a small town in West Virginia, also experienced trouble with the shirt. “One morning,” he said, “I was about to head out and go to the farmers market and, as I stepped out of my house, I realized I was wearing the shirt. I changed out of it and then went out. Everyone in my town knows everyone else and I just don’t feel like they’re ready for a shirt that loud.” Law enforcement depiction issues aside, Farlow, Murro, and Allen all agree that the best way to help your community and make change is to get involved. Whether that be voting, learning, or other ways, involvement in your community is the best way to better both yourself and those around you. “Use your resources for good,” Murro said. “Find what you do well and make positive change with it.”
“This,” he said, “is huge because a lot of unfair trials are caused by incompetent lawyers.” Meanwhile, B&R is a favorite of Murro. The fund, which has been around for 43 years, works to build-up underserved communities in the Philadelphia area, an objective he admires. “As a public educator,” he said, “I’m so happy to see funds like Bread and Roses working to help their communities. Communities have to step up and help themselves in times of need. This is our time to make ourselves available.” Of course, despite the good intentions of the shirt’s proceeds going towards respectful entities, some took issue with the depiction of law enforcement as both a pig and as a member of the KKK. After the shirt went on sale, Farlow received private messages from people upset with the depiction.
The back of the shirt, Photo courtesy of Sunstroke
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journaling from julia cowitt
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digital work by glenn federico
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This is Platonic The press of my toes Into the bared fat Of your pale thighs. I made sure to cut my nails. The chill of your feet, Toes tucked neatly Under the mass of my legs. What the fuck, man! Get socks! The sugar we share, Stored in my Jesus mug Atop your fridge. We should steal more from Starbucks. The nonexistent space between us As we watch whatever you decide is good that day. Yes, I’m still on Season 2 The dinner we eat Together in the couch As we talk about your nephew. Is he still scare if your grandma? Our conversations Through the bathroom door While the shower’s still running. At least we don’t pay the water bill. The time we stayed up Flipping bananas Like gun-toting cowboys. I still have that video. The way my brother Knows to ask How you’re doing? This is Platonic.
Synovia Roberts
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the new world by Britt Trachtenberg
The sun glittered on Edward’s shiny coat as he gazed out the window, paws clinging to the soft fabric of the living room couch cover as he stood on his hind legs. He thumped his tail on the cushions, trying to make enough noise to drown out the sound of silence. The new world was empty to Edward: no one to bark at in the street, no cars driving by in the expansive presummer heat. Even the animals seemed to disappear into nests and holes in the trees. The emptiness, the loneliness bothered Edward so much so that he was left with no choice: his shrill bark rang out in the silence of the balmy day. He yipped at the day that was seemingly lost in people’s memories and at the sun who bore down on the pavement that stretched for miles. Edward’s owner came running. She was a small lady, her hair gathered on the top of her head in an untidy bun. Her robe hang loose around her petite figure, the long strips of linen tied in a knot around her waist. As she bent down to pet Edward, to scratch behind his ears, this knot slowly became undone, starting with the bow. “What is it, boy?” she asked the small dog, who turned to look at her questioningly. His tail came
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to a full stop, the only thing that seemingly kept the time in the otherwise still new world. The woman sat down next to Edward, inviting him to lay in her lap, but he stayed put. His eyes remained focused on her eyes widened, trying to mock excitement, her lips parted, awaiting a response. The pair stayed like this for a bit, frozen in time, with the owner rubbing the fur on Edward’s neck and back and him staring at her in appalled wonderment. Time started again when Edward lept off the couch and headed for the door, his long nails clicking on the hardwood floor. The woman watched Edward carefully to see where he was going. When he reached his destination, he turned and looked back at his owner questioningly. “Edward, why are you heading for the door?” the woman asked, standing up and following him there. He headed out the doggy flap and onto the front steps of the house. The woman opened the door and there stood Edward, staring out into the empty street, the vast nothingness of day. “Do you wanna go for a walk, boy?” the woman asked as Edward stood, gazing at the sun, who stood for nothing at all, a sun who smiled without cause down on the empty road. He turned to his owner, again with a sole question on his mind- Where are all the people? “What’s the matter, boy? I don’t understand.” The owner’s heart broke as she said this. The barrier between dog and owner never seemed more apparent. Edward proceeded to howl at the lackluster day. His howl thundered throughout the neighborhood, ringing on the rooftops of homes full of people who huddled inside. He turned to his owner to see if she understood his questions. “Are you asking where everyone is, boy?” she asked. The dog nodded. Patiently, the woman explained the state of the world to him and ushered him back inside. Once inside, little Edward placed his head on his owner’s lap. And she patted him gently.
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Quarantine Day 5 quarantine day Five still stuck inside lost my mind nowhere to Go no one to see thank god for our technology I will call you through Zoom and Facetime our connection will not end because of the pandemic fuck you covid-19 you will not get the best of Me
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If You Were Here If you were here, we would be worried. New York has more cases than any other country. I would never leave the house. You would have been so at risk, with all your health issues you suffered from, that I would be too scared to leave. I would want to spend time with you, I would want you to finally teach me to crochet. I always wanted to know how, but I never had the patience. During this pandemic though, I would stay away, to keep you safe. If you were here, we would be worried. I never thought I would want to worry. But I’d rather have my heart race, and restless nights, thinking about what if’s, if it meant you were here.
Kelly Cashman
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Cardinals of Quarantine Some days we see our family from a distance All in masks and some with gloves. We’re together but at the same time we feel so far apart. I want to go inside their house. I want to sit at the kitchen table and have dinner. I want to play card games until dawn. I want to hear our laughs echo through the house. I want. I want. I want. My desires all dangle before me like jewels from a chandelier. Taunting me, they pull away as soon as I try grabbing for one. A game. A game of hope we play. Day in and day out. Sitting in a field left astray. I am isolated. I am pushed into the cracks of society and the shadows of this earth. Be heard, be seen. Who will be there to see you if we’ve all already gone? Not a single life left unaffected. The bowels of this world tremble from a dark sickness within itself. There is an injustice in action. There are words rewritten and lives replaced. Lie and lie until we all die. The truth seeps through to those who are powerless. Who am I but another exchangeable body in this war against what is right? My family, my friends, all pawns for a few swift political points. Kill us. Kill us. KILL US. We’re livestock waiting to be slaughtered for you. Then rape our lifeless bodies until we peel apart. My back is a twig so break it. Let my embers empower you. Burning a wrongness in your lungs. Allow my flesh to fuel you. Pushing forward an army of disgust. Through this cardinals fly, deep red their wings cry. We pity them but in the end we are the ones to be pitied.
Emily Christ
image by emily moreno
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thoughts of a seventeen year old virgin You want to be something but all you do is consume; gorge yourself until you’re bloated, lapping up the addictions they sell Her poster on your wall is faded from being moved around too much finding the perfect way to angle her so she stares at you when you cum She has nothing on and sings about her twins and you think her music is really something, enough to make you say so If you wanted you could be a real man for her; the week-old beers under your bed and cheetos on your lips meaning nothing when you’ve got something they all want You could help the idols balance on anemic legs, hands on their hips and make a beat with chopsticks that would make all the girls swoon You’d guide their siren song mouths to their true destination down below, you’d be the man they’re singing about, and make yourself a star
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What’s pop culture to you a forty year old catfish asks over chat liking the way you reminisce over adult women as if he were the one you were talking about Big lips, fat thighs, just the right amount of white, sexy enough to pander to men but not enough to embarrass the suburbans Her skirt going up just a bit too much, as if she’s inviting you into her warmth the girls at school you’re too afraid to talk to singing along to Rihanna’s lust Your stan account you masturbate to when your brain is slow and your mom is making casserole It’s 7:15 and you think that’s Ariana in your ear letting you down with her seven rings and boyfriends Cocaine on her nose, appropriation in her hair she’s the one for you So you like sex the man presumes, probably on the edge, biting his lip, the pervert of the century and you say no, I don’t, I just love musicians.
Noah Rigby
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the back page SEPTEMBER 2020
illustration by emma pesin
SUBMIT 2 GUTTER send your poems, playlists, illustrations, articles, text messages, comics, photographs, short stories, shopping lists, paintings, fashion tips, crossword puzzles, recipies, collages and love letters to:
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playlist from blake soule
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(914) 251-6390
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