Free Tibet (with every purchase)

My loyal readers (now 8, we gained another reader since I last broke the fourth wall), no doubt you are bemused by the title of this particular piece. You may be aware that I am a student of Journalism at university. As such, I often come into contact with various magazines for the purpose of study. Karma obviously caught up with me in a recent lesson, for I was unfortunate enough to be engaged in a study of magazines aimed at girls in their early teens, an activity akin to buying a happy meal, filling the box with deadly scorpians, and then placing your face in the mixture.

As the only male to turn up to this god-forsaken lesson, I assume that I am braver than my absent comrades, who clearly have an abject fear of catching the dreaded gay from the girly magazines. Hardly suprising, considering the lurid pink of the magazines, a colour only witnessed before by connoisseurs or highly unorthodox herbs and mushrooms.

Freakish, seizure inducing colour schemes aside, the magazines have a wide variety of contents and opinionated pieces, offering scathing political satire and hard boiled journalistic brilliance on every page...

Sorry, I can't get away with a lie of that extremity. The magazines I witnessed are completely vacant of anything remotely resembling intelligent thought, much like its intended audience.

I did, very briefly, wonder what leads writes down this horrible path, to work for trash like this. Then I realised, nice and quickly, that this is true capitalism at work. Sell shite for vast amounts of money. It's like stealing candy from a baby, but at least the baby will grow up traumatised and may craft thought provoking art inspired by the horror it has faced. Teen girl magazines, on the other hand, have no inherant journalistic value or quality, and simply propogate the views that teen girls are empty headed and follow what their told like obedient sheep. And if they buy trash like this, they probably are.

Somewhere out there, deep within a bleak fortress overlooking the fires of Mount Doom, a figure in a hooded cloak is laughing in a manner most psychotic, preparing to unleash the next issue of "Bliss" at us, printed on paper crafted from brain matter of young teen girls. Because there appeared to be no other use for them.

-Az