Maybe you’re thinking the name sounds pretty…scaggy. That’s natural. Just don’t go thinking this is some kind of heroin periodical, like Hypodermic Monthly’s Quarterly Arts Supplement or something. The name is my fault and I’m not that classy.

Why Scag? Not because it’s an inspiring name. Because it’s a common name, and because me and my merry band of contributors – who I’ll glorify at every opportunity – this is what we’re into. Into…probably too much like some gawkers in an aquarium looking at the Siamese fighting fish; but whatever. Underbelly, underclass, unacceptable culture: self-abuse tinged and tinted with high entertainment/educational value – that’s what we like. But also, we like people being able to express themselves. We think you don’t need a degree to work out the worth of some art, you don’t need years of torture to have value or perspective. It just so happens many of us do have years of torture under our belts, not always from academic institutions though. And we reckon you like what you like, and if you’re passionate about it, that’s enough.

So this is a place for the filthy masses to open themselves up, if that’s what they want to do, and let all comers view their beating organs laid out on this operating table. The Scaggy Operating Table.

Our categories:

Journalism, self-explanatory;

Inebriational Travelogues, wandering prose stories blending fiction and non-fiction;

Pretty Pictures, art;

Meaningless Shit, memes and miscellaneous.


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