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C
A N N I B A L C U L T U R E M A G A Z I
N E
Other Issues: Number
9 / Number 11
the zenith of mongoloid entertainment
Issue No. l
Coroner's Report
| Well here it is, the first ever issue of CANNIBAL
CULTURE, here's hoping a few eccentrics and gorehounds actually
buy the fucking thing so I can make some of my money back.
And I don't want to mislead you, so I might as well tell you
right off that cannibals, literally speaking, are not
what this magazine is all about (sorry to disappoint you.)
It's like, a metaphor. A tool for political satire.
Or something like that. CANNIBAL CULTURE is primarily
a magazine of horror and its humorous counterpart -- something
I think Vancouver desperately needs in order to survive the
plague of Commercial Drive vagina literature and shitty rave
publications I keep finding everywhere. So why horror?
Why glorify a genre that perpetuates violence and objectifies
women? If you have to ask that question, Fuck You.
But I'll be generous enough to supply you with an answer anyway.
First off, let's deconstruct the popular notion that horror
is an unintelligent and condescending genre aimed at trailer
park white trash with nothing better to do than blow their brains
out while listening to Judas Priest or mutilate small animals
for kicks. OK? Still with me? Good.
I happen to be a fairly well-educated, middle class, 25-year-old
woman, and I can appreciate the fact that the origins of avante-garde
and transgressional film lie predominantly in the horror genre.
Read: without say, Robert Wiene's 1919 The Cabinet of Dr.
Caligari, there would be no David Lynch, no Derek Jarman,
no John Waters, etcetera. |
|
 Once
upon a time, horror was one of the most respected genres around,
as you could be sure that its writers and directors were extremely
familiar with 19th century psychology (check out Freud's essay
'The Uncanny') and the gothic and surrealistic movements that
grew out of it. So what happened? Has this changed
somehow? In the 1950's, and again in the 70's and 80's,
horror became a huge cash crop (especially in the midst of
really lax 70's censorship codes), and every schmuck with
a couple thousand dollars to blow wanted to get in on the
action. What resulted was a slew of 'Teenage She-Demon'-type
turkeys (that have since been reassigned to the 'cult' genre,
whatever that means) and Florida backyard slasher flicks that
succeeded in undremining the seriousness of the genre.
This is certainly not to say that I don't love these tasteless
chop 'em up flicks as much as any faithful gorehound, but
merely that the number of quickie horror movies eventually
eclipsed those of a more serious and artistic nature.
Despite this, it is a mistake to dismiss the genre altogether,
so don't do it.
In these pages you'll come across cheesy cheap-laffs
horror and intense, surrealistic dreamscapes alike, not to
mention analytic essays and critiques on the nature of both
horror and its advocates. All types of horror have an
equal place in my heart, for various reasons, and I can only
hope that you can find a place for them in yours. But
whatever you decide, I'm in for the long haul,
so if you plan to stick around, grab your forks and knives,
and get ready to eat or be eaten.
Sincerely,
Kier-la Janisse
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