Living our queer, twisted truth. Stories, art, love, and cantankerous cats.
This week in Underland: emotions ran high, the zine went live, and the cats were… unimpressed.
Poe staged a silent protest over font choices, Akela launched a full investigation into the suspicious movement of the red chair, and Mowgli may or may not have forgiven Rodgit (the jury is still napping).
Also, we might be moving. Probably. Eventually.
Family Values is a quiet reckoning in free verse — a poem about the people who watch from the sidelines, silent in their surveillance, absent in their care. It turns the old saying on its head, tracing the cold metrics of modern connection through graphs, likes, and creeping. This piece confronts the gap between visibility and support, and what it means when the people who should know you best… choose not to.
go on make yourself a victim
you will be soon enough.
You can tell your own
children
Why.
The glitch won.
Normal content has been corrupted.
Issue One of The Underland Review: This Zine is a Lie is now live — 57 pages of poetry, prose, art, and soft monsters from the margins of the algorithm.
Pay what you want. Hold it in your hands. Or vanish into the archive.
I made paintings. Tech advanced I let the algorithm chew on them. fAce-lIft™ is what happened when I asked AI to distort, not dictate — to echo, not replace. The result? Something almost beautiful, slightly haunted, and very much still mine. If that makes you uncomfortable… good. Come look anyway.
“Turns out gills work. You’re welcome.”
In a world where the rich breathe easy underwater and the rest are left gasping above, a rogue tech designer, a sanctimonious ex, and a sarcastic borg might be the last hope for redemption. Corporate theology, biotech betrayal, and underwater rebellion collide in Breathing Is For Closers.
I made paintings. Tech advanced I let the algorithm chew on them. fAce-lIft™ is what happened when I asked AI to distort, not dictate — to echo, not replace. The result? Something almost beautiful, slightly haunted, and very much still mine. If that makes you uncomfortable… good. Come look anyway.
I made paintings. Tech advanced I let the algorithm chew on them. fAce-lIft™ is what happened when I asked AI to distort, not dictate — to echo, not replace. The result? Something almost beautiful, slightly haunted, and very much still mine. If that makes you uncomfortable… good. Come look anyway.
Forgiveness is a process — especially if you’re a cat. This week, we navigate birthday dread, garden triumphs, and the slow but surreal shift toward our future in Thailand. There’s wine, weed wackers, and a temporary job at (possibly fictional) Amazon. Honourable mentions were won. Sausages were offered. Love, as ever, persists.
A haunting reflection on time, memory, and the ache of never growing up. “Once I looked into your eyes and whispered I cannot grow up…”—this piece explores the enduring pull of childhood, the weight of nostalgia, and the quiet grief of being seen. For all the lost boys, boxcar hearts, and sunset liars.
