pomo update 17.0
the zine, feminine hysteria, & Byron in Bay Ridge
Zine 4
You can now order your copy of the zine vol. 4, featuring Chris Marino, Bridget Ruffing, Brandon Taylor, Sean Thor Conroe, Matthew Gasda, Carlos Egaña, John Milbank, Jonah Howell, Joe Enabnit, et al.
And get your tix for our launch party on 5/21 at KGB (attendees get a FREE copy of the zine!).
Pasolini Proceedings
We have finally posted the recording of our event “Real Men Are Pierced” with Eve Tushnet on Pasolini, the manosphere, and more. Listen on Spotify, Apple, or YouTube.
Pomo people elsewhere
Nikos Mohammadi on
the Vindication of Nick Fuentes in Crisis Magazine
I’ve been vociferously opposed to what Fuentes stands for, and unless he drastically changes and does a full 180 on many issues, I intend to continue viewing him negatively. Reality is reality, however.
No Kings as Carnival on his Substack
What is the purpose of carnival? Dressing up in creative masks? Unity? Performance? By all these metrics, the No Kings protest on Saturday in Manhattan — extending from Columbus Circle, down 7thAvenue, all the way to Penn Station — fit.
Stephen on
how he LARPs as Lord Byron in Bay Ridge in Romanticon
I’ve been told that, like Byron’s, my obsessions with cultures other than my own veer into exoticization, which, according to some people is insensitive and “problematic.” While I tried to defend myself at first, I eventually decided to stop caring and just lean into it—a journey I described in my apologia for “ethnofluidity.” As evidenced by my recent writings on Islam and my ode to my Arab neighbors in Brooklyn, this tendency of mine has led me to—again, like Byron—fall victim to the “problematic” allure of Orientalism.
Yet as much as my fascination with Arab cultures takes the form of a playfully decadent dandyism, I cannot deny that behind my Byronic romanticization lies a deep esteem for—even a dependence on—that Otherness.
how Dorothy Day began her conversion at St. Joe’s 6th Ave way before the zoomers did in The Dispatch
Whenever I find myself in the West Village, I make a mini-pilgrimage down Sixth Avenue. On the rare occasions that St. Joseph’s is empty, I’ll kneel in the back pew and read “The Hound of Heaven” silently to myself. As I visualize Day kneeling next to me, I pray that I and all the neighborhood’s denizens—from the Zoomer converts and tech bros to the chess players and beggars in Washington Square Park—may, like Dorothy, be led toward the answers to our deepest questions and yearnings, and that we may fulfill our own callings in life.
mansplaining feminine hysteria in no pomo
The hysterical female, the woman who loses her shit, is not idiotic—she has just temporarily dropped the reins. The woman scorned by unrequited loved, by adultery, by jealousy—Soraya in Maria La Del Barrio, Lucia in Mujeres al borde de un ataque de nervios—is barraged with an information overload, allowing her psyche to momentarily derail from its track toward superior intelligence.