What Is This Holy Racket? A Manifesto, Of Sorts.


Welcome to Cosmic Phallusy. Don’t matter why you’re here, or how you got here. Fact is: you’re here, and you’re still reading, so you must care enough about the mystery of the enigma and lowbrow literature guised in existential inquiry enough to not have sauntered out in a swift haze of ambivalence. Instead, well, you’ve pulled up a chair, haven’t ya, fully engrossed in the Holy Racket.

D’ja ever think about what you’d see if you peeked through the ethereal peephole of the universe… if ya stopped playing this game of hide-and-seek with the truth of it all? Just gave in and felt yourself as you are: suspended weightless in space without a darn clue. Nuh? Aww! C’mon, man! ‘Course ya have. Scrape the remnants of your noggin and think about life for a second. What? You need stimulus, like porn for your brain or something? Well ya should’a sed sumthin’ earlier, ’cause we got just the thing. Ya betta beleeve life ain’t nuthin’ butta inter-dimensional dick joke: a darn Cosmic Phallusy, man. So, go ahead and buy an issue, then try and tell me it didn’t get you off… or at least leave you used, pondering the point of it all.


Sure, it might seem like we ain’t nuthin’ but a buncha cheap, lonely, DIY rotten misfits reaching out from the far, dark-side of the galaxy gagging at our own knee-slappers in the face of the universe, at the expense of everything in it. And we are, definitely. Boy Howdy, we’re scum! But we’re also an intergalactic indie publication house and magazine, online and in print (and eventually cassette and vinyl formats), publishing our own magazines, anthologies, novellas and interactive issues when we can afford it; and in the meantime publishing all kindsa comic, cosmic and poetically philosophical work online at our Interzone home: ‘Reflections From The Holy Circus Mirror’.

Like the ravenous psychonautic vanguards we wanna pretend to be, we’re always lurking the unexplored alleyways of the universe for answers. Raw, funny, dangerous, holy, irreverent and deadly serious answers about life: music, books, philosophy, pop culture, truth — y’know, things that matter. And darn, lemme tell ya, don’t it make it easy when these kinda answers turn up in our inbox for submission! Heck, we’ll even pay for them!

Online submissions are always open. We pay. But we’re poor scumbags combing through life for some kinda financial security too, so can’t pay much. Though if ya keep telling your friends to buy our magazines then soon we can pay you more, and even commission pieces. So pitch us something — we’re friendly people, let’s talk about your ideas. Hit us up on the Gram, or email the editor: benjo.kazue@outlook.com

Our favourite styles include gonzo rock n’ roll, new journalism, beatnik drivel, gutter/street poetry, philosophical exploration, narrative nonfiction, radical fiction, existential essays, psycho-semantic travel chronicles and comics. Word count anywhere from 50 – 5,000.


Look, between you and me, we’re barely a lowbrow lit journal disguised as a Stanley-knife-it-sticky-tape-it and scan-it-in style nineties basement zine and underground internet blog. But shhh! Don’t let the cat outta the bag, aight?

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