Dear Cringe Reader,
It’s unsurprising to see this issue’s theme resonating with our contributors. After all, anyone coming of age in an era defined by recessions, a resurgence of anti-feminist and -queer backlash, Covid-19, the housing crisis, not to mention the climate emergency and cost of living crisis, has more than one good reason to feel enraged by our current climate and those working hard to prevent anything from changing.
Living against the backdrop of wider socioeconomic crises at all times, we’re no strangers to turning our rage against everyday symptoms: Be this the exploitative, often cruel and capitalist military operation that is the hospitality industry (p. 17-19 & p. 29-33), or the inescapable misogyny of a heteropatriarchal world that keeps trying to gaslight us that it isn’t real (p. 21-22; 41-44), while simultaneously continuing to wage war against trans and queer people (p. 9-10).
Our own Georjia also takes a look at the internet’s nepo baby discourse (p.23-26), and whether this could indicate the end of blind glorification of celebrity talent, or lack thereof, and the belief in meritocracy. Other essays explore the difficulties of expressing rage (p. 34; 59-62) and the shame that might come from being encouraged to do so (p. 35-40).
This, and much more, can be found inside the pages you’re holding. As with all uncomfortable emotions we’re exploring through Cringe, you might discover rage’s multifaceted layers, which as much as including pain, shame and regret, are just as connected to passion, humour, perhaps even pleasure.
We hope that our fifth issue gets you to reflect on your own relationship with rage, how it is expressed in people and represented on screen, written about in books and intellectualised elsewhere, and very importantly, who has permission to express it in the first place.
For what it’s worth, here’s permission to do so with us.
As always, don’t forget to #StayCringeBeHumble,
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