PARAPHILIA V IS AVAILABLE NOW, INCLUDING THE 30 PLUS PAGE FEATURE ON STOOGES GUITARIST JAMES WILLIAMSON, AND DELECTABLY PROVOCATIVE MORSELS FROM THE MINDS OF:
CHIKUMA ASHIDA, SID GRAVES, JOHNNY STINGRAY, CAROL TORRES, JIM LOPEZ, MICHAEL K, MICHAEL CANO, CHARLES PLATT, AUDREE FLYNN, BRIAN BLUR, ANDREW MABEN, THOMAS HASTINGS, DM MITCHELL, CHRIS BRANDRICK, JANA, CLAIRE GODDEN-ROWLAND, MALCOLM ALCALA, CRAIG WOODS, MAX REEVES, SUE FOX, DIRE MCCAIN, EVITA CORBY, DAVID BRITTON, CRICKET CORLEONE, RICHARD A. MEADE, SALENA GODDEN, GUTTERSAINT, GENE GREGORITS, PABLO VISION, SIOLO THOMPSON, BRIAN ROUTH, PATRICIA WELLS, MICHAEL BUTTERWORTH, RICK GRIMES, HANK KIRTON, RICH FOLLETT, DARIUS JAMES, DESTINY MCKEEVER, NICK TOSCHES, JOHN BARRYMORE, CHRIS MADOCH, CLAUDIA BELLOCQ, ANGELA SUZZANNE, RON GARMON, KATE MACDONALD, MARY LEARY, DOLOROSA DE LA CRUZ
παρά --para: beside, near, past, beyond, above, contrary, resembling, apart from, irregular and abnormal.
φιλία --philia: a love that designates friendship, love between friends, a desire or enjoyment of an activity, as well as between lovers, family and community.
Medical Psychology Meaning: Sexual Fetishes.
Metaphysical Meaning: Friendship from Beyond.
The restraints and constraints of cultural conditioning are omnipresent, spreading like knotweed into every crevice of humankind’s psyche, thus throttling genuine expression at its roots.
Over the years, wo/man has progressively acquiesced, and at times, eagerly collaborated in the widespread poisoning, consequently imposing cretinizing and debilitating conditions on expression, all in the name of propriety, popularity, and profit. Nowadays, artists often consider their “careers” before even embarking on the creative process. The insidious whispering of the superego and almighty dollar is looming over their shoulders, ensuring that the original, sincere, and thought-provoking is vetted and curbed.
Not surprisingly, the epidemic has spread beyond the “mainstream”, giving birth to a generic, contrived, ersatz version of the “avant-garde” that’s been shamelessly commodified and mass-marketed, driving otherwise “normal” human beings to assume conspicuous yet transparent costumes, all in an effort to fit in or cash in. It’s now burgeoned into an absurd masquerade that’s garnered a sizeable attendance.
Enter PARAPHILIA, an unlicensed, underground enterprise that renounces rules, regulations, guidelines, genres, categories, and all other manmade shackles. Paraphilia recognizes that expression is a fundamental function of the human organism, and within these walls, it will only be presented in the purest, rawest, most unfettered form. The sole requirement for admission is an open mind, so do come in, we embrace your presence.
PARAPHILIA MAGAZINE is currently a non-profit venture, thus we are unable to provide financial compensation for published works. All copyrights, of course, belong to the writers, artists, photographers, etc...
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and i got off the mat for one more round, one more roll in the hay, one last kiss before midnight, one last joust before the nuclear sunrise, the gods are screaming in rhythm and a horrible music fills the world as our societies sink deeper into mediocrity, art becomes pretension, the masses rule the airwaves, film and literature turn ugly, music becomes monotone, the crystal-white memories of blue-thunder magic passing slowly by raucous sex-talk in your window sunburn alabaster machine-gun ending, all things fade born again whiskey-sour back alley blow-jobs on her knees begging for more, early morning sex-buzz, love fades in the moonlight, Django plays the strings in the last-call reverie, boom boom and out go the lights, dishpigs run up the bar tab, musicians do the cock-walk ugly as always, that old sweet song on my mind the hours slumber by, with shadows we dance the endless slow-song caress, and the blue-morning dreaming, and the brutal long-hour sunset, and the virgin mind-fuck kiss me deadly, covered in these thoughts I smelled her perfume and saw her across the back alley as she led me in deeper and deeper the tornado in my mind screaming tortured songs unwanted happiness…
