Welcome from Jenny and Diablo
Nobody asks us personal questions anymore.
Back when we were young, in the Bronze Age, conversations were like oceans. Deep and dark and rollicking, upheaving bits of shipwreck and sometimes a body. (Stories with bodies; those were the best ones, right? ) We asked each other questions. We interrogated each other under black light, we passed the blunt or the bowl or the Cherry Coke can with holes poked in it and we laughed our taut, firm asses off. It was a great time to be a curious person or a crack storyteller. It was the 90s for us, but it could have been any era where kids have time to kill and so much to find out.
These days, when we’re asked something, the question is more likely to be something like, “Where’s my green hoodie?” “So, are you guys going anywhere for spring break?” Or “Last four of your social, please.” Demands, small talk, and administrative queries, basically. It’s dehumanizing. We’re AI in yoga pants, and no one ever thanks Alexa.
Those long-ago conversations we once had, oceans so deep their trenches swarmed with prehistoric glass creatures, have become sad little dribbles of Fiji water, and it sucks.
We created this little publication so we can ask each other personal questions. Some will be gnarly, some will be goofy. All will be answered.
Welcome, and remember: nothing leaves this room.
—Jenny Mollen Biggs and Diablo Cody