JOE VAUX, HUMMSTER - @JOEVAUX ISSUE 149 | MAY 2026 MANTIS: JONNY DESTEFANO DRAGONFLY: KRYSTI JOMÉI SPARKLEMUFFIN: JULIANNA BECKERT WALKING STICK: KAYVAN S. T. KHALATBARI CICADA: MARK MOTHERSBAUGH AHA HA: DANIEL 'DL' LANDES SUNSET MOTH: DIDI BETHURUM FRONT COVER: MARK MOTHERSBAUGH, FROM THE POSTCARD DIARIES BIRDY COLLAGE REMIX - @MARKMOTHERSBAUGH BACK COVER: STACY PERALTA - JAY SMITH BRITELITE BOARD FROM MARK WEATHERSTONE'S SKATEDECK COLLECTION - @PERALTASTACY HUMMINGBIRD HAWKS: JOE VAUX, ROB GINSBERG, BRIAN POLK, NICK FLOOK, JOEL TAGERT, ALI HOFF, STEVE HANEY, HANA ZITTEL, SCOTT FULLER, ERIC JOYNER, GRAY WINSLER, BRIAN J HOFFMAN, TOM MURPHY, DAVE DANZARA, JASON WHITE, NATE BALDING, RAY YOUNG CHU, BRIAN SERWAY, ZAC DUNN, HARI REN FIREFLIES: DANIELLE COENEN, SERGEI PROKUDIN-GORSKY, STACY PERALTA, NEIL BLENDER, JOSEPH POPE III, MUSTAFA SHERPIDIN ANT LIONS: MARIANO OREAMUNO, DS THORNBURG, PHIL GARZA, ZAC DUNN, CRISTIN COLVIN, ALAN ROY, CHELSEA PINTO, MATT HAVER, IZZY DOZIER, DJUNA MARTINEZ, LINDSAY BRUCE SUPPORT OUR FRIENDS & BENEFACTORS: MUTMUZ GALLERY, PHOTO BANG!, MUTINY COMICS AND COFFEE, COLORADO FESTIVAL OF HORROR, OFF THE BOTTLE REFILL SHOP, DECK OF PROMPTS, BRAND BABES, BENNY BLANCO’S, RADIO RETHINK, DENVER DIGERATI FOLLOW US – IG: @BIRDY.MAGAZINE | FB: @BIRDYMAGAZINE KEEP PRINT UNDEAD – MAILED SUBSCRIPTIONS + ISSUES + MERCH: BIRDYMAGAZINE.COM/SHOP BE IN BIRDY – ART + WORDS + COMEDY + ET CETERA: BIRDYMAGAZINE.COM/SUBMISSIONS ADVERTISE IN BIRDY + SUPPORT INDEPENDENT ART: BIRDYMAGAZINE.COM/CONTACT-US BIRDY IS MAPPING SPACE, WINGING IT MONTHLY ©2026 BIRDY MAGAZINE, A HIVE OF ELECTRIC BEES ROB GINSBERG (D.A.S.A.) 1
DANIELLE COENEN, THE HIVE - @DANIELLECOENEN
EPIPHANIES ARE LOUDER WHEN THEY’RE YELLIN’ IN YOUR EAR BY BRIAN POLK I HAD THE EPIPHANY THAT AN EPIPHANY ONLY REALLY MATTERS TO THE SPECIFIC PERSON EXPERIENCING THE EPIPHANY AT HAND So I have been talking to therapists and journaling in an attempt to identify and metabolize traumatic events in my life. And at first, I was a bit hesitant to partake in such intense self-examination, but recent events made it all but impossible to avoid. So I began unraveling decades of low points in my life and attempting to process my feelings about them. And I have to say, it’s been nothing short of amazing! I mean sure, there are a lot of tears and moments of pain, but the aftermath is that of sheer beauty. Anyway, I got all excited about my No. 149 process, and I’ve been telling my friends things like, “Did you know that unprocessed trauma can lead to hyper vigilance?” And, “Were you aware that conjuring up the most painful parts of your past and talking about them with a licensed therapist can improve your mental health?” And people are either unimpressed because 1) they’ve already done the work years ago, 2) they definitely don’t want to do the work themselves, or 3) they’re sick of hearing me talk about myself all the damn time. And it made me realize that personal journeys are great when you’re the one journeying, but not really relevant when you’re not in the driver’s seat. It’s kind of like when you’re tripping and you try to tell your sober friend something like, “We’re all one, man. And the more you try to deny it, the less you’ll feel like you belong in the universe!” SERGEI PROKUDIN-GORSKY, WHITE FOX
And your sober friend just shakes his head and says, “Sounds like some decent acid that you’ve been up all night on. But if you don’t mind, it’s 6:30 in the morning and I have to go to work — because even though I belong in this universe, it’d be nice if I could pay rent so I can keep belonging in this apartment.” ALSO, I HAD A BET THAT I COULD USE THE WORD, “EPIPHANY” THREE TIMES IN ONE OF MY COLUMN'S TITLES My friend Eric owes me $20. AND IF YOU JUST SAID TO YOURSELF, “BRIAN, YOU ARE A LIAR. THERE’S NO WAY YOU HAVE A FRIEND ERIC WHO MADE THAT BET WITH YOU,” YOU’D BE HALF RIGHT I do have a friend named Eric. (IN YOUR FACE!) But yeah, you got me. He absolutely would never make a bet like that. In fact, I haven’t spoken to him in a while — even though I probably should at least text him soon. The older I get, the harder it is to keep up with old friends. It feels like yesterday we were young lads, skateboarding all day, going to punk shows, and developing lifelong aversions to Jack Daniels, because of that one night in Eric’s backyard where I got the genius idea of throwing up at night so I wouldn’t be hungover in the morning, so I kept drinking long after I knew I should stop. I mean, it worked. I definitely vomited. Do you remember that, Eric? And the next day, your dad got all mad at me for puking up a bunch of bourbon that the dog could have easily licked up. And he kept saying the last thing he wanted was a drunkass dog with terrible breath stumbling around the house because of me. Then he kicked me out, and we went and got breakfast meal deals at McDonald’s and spent the whole day skating and listening to that FOUR! tape, Play With Everything. Later that evening, we met up with the rest of our crew and Little Jay had Jack Daniels he stole from his uncle, but neither of us drank it, and they called us Mormons all night — even though we drank plenty of (Olympia) beers. And around midnight, we scraped your metal pipe for resin because none of us had weed, but we wanted to get high, and we didn’t really get high, but we did get buzzed enough to pick up some Taco Bell and pass out on the floor at Chris’ house. Oh man, those were the days. Anyway, how are you doing, man? I have this bet I want to talk to you about. IF YOU’RE SINGLE, HAVE YOU EVER REACHED A POINT WHERE YOU CAN’T BELIEVE ALL THESE PEOPLE ARE MEETING EACH OTHER, BECOMING COUPLES, AND STAYING TOGETHER? LIKE IT FEELS AS THOUGH SOME MONUMENTAL, INTERGENERATIONAL, MULTINATIONAL CONSPIRACY IS AFOOT, AND THE SOLE OBJECT OF THIS ELABORATE MACHINATION IS TO MAKE YOU FEEL LONELY AND UNWORTHY OF LOVE? I’m not there yet, but I fear this day is rapidly approaching. JEEZ, I SHOULD PROBABLY GET OUT MORE Anyone want to hang out? Oh wait, that’s right. Everyone is hanging out with their romantic partners due to the ongoing Conspiracy™ that I keep hearing about. Well then, I guess I’ll be the guy at the end of the bar trying not to succumb to a bitterness so bleak and sad that not even the bar dog wants to sit next to me. Cheers! 5
NICK FLOOK, I GOT YOU - @FLOOKO
No. 149
ALI HOFF, DREAM SPIRE - @COMRADE_HOFF
art by neil blender “Cramped leg room on major international flights unlikely to change course of famous river.” The line above is a nonsensical riddle, kind of like a Zen koan. Zen koans, being the ultimate nonsensical riddle, are not meant to be solved rationally. Instead, they are meant to bewilder and confuse the intellect with the goal of pushing it out of its analytical way of thinking so it can drop into a more intuitive level. “I have fond memories of events that have never happened.” “Neil, I’ve mailed you a void. You won’t know when it arrives, but please call me when you receive it.” Nonsensical riddles have the ability to twist the analytical mind into knots, the part of our mind that is desperate to make sense of things. This twisting can create more opportunities for non-linear and intuitive ways of operating. “I recently joined a knife club. Once a month one of the members agrees to a group stabbing and then we eat cupcakes.” — In 1984, I was in North San Diego County attending a meeting with seven others. We were there to discuss the creation of a new skateboard magazine. As with most meetings, this one dragged on to the point where I became very bored. I looked across the table at Neil Blender, one of skateboarding’s most celebrated non-conformists and artists. I could see that he was as bored as I was. I picked up a scrap piece of paper, scribbled a nonsensical line on it and passed it across the No. 149 table to him. He looked at it and laughed out loud. He then wrote his own nonsensical line and passed it back to me and I laughed out loud. Thus began a writing practice that has endured over 42 years. “Very early this morning a foreign adversary hacked into my oatmeal.” “I’m crowd-funding my next cup of coffee.” What began as writing actual physical letters to each other filled with absurd lines and riddles morphed into emails and is now done through texts. I haven’t physically seen or spoken to Neil in over 10 years. Prior to that, I hadn’t seen him for 15 years. So I’ve seen him once in 25 years. Though we don’t verbally speak to each other and don’t physically visit each other, we communicate frequently through the texting of these mutually appreciated nonsensical absurdities. Stacy Peralta: “This is official confirmation that you’ve been selected for nothing.” Neil Blender: “You’ve been pre-approved to eat lasagna.” The exercise we developed was not intentional, it happened as a result of attending a boring meeting. But as we began to develop our practice, we knew we were onto something. We began to recognize how the practice of writing these lines loosened up our minds, helping to propel us out of our own literal way of thinking, and dropping us into a more free form and intuitive way of operating. Sometimes the things we write to each other arrive as questions: NB: “I told a friend I was starting a new job on Friday. He said, ‘Do you have all your ducks in a row?’” I said, ‘No, they’re staggered, will that change the outcome?’” SP: “You have any interest in selling your soul? If not, how bout trading it for scrap?” Other times we write lines that come off as statements: by stacy peralta
NB: “They’re passing a bill this week that outlaws ‘going out on a limb.’” SP: “Between the first results and the new data, uncertainty and grave concern has increased among parents over their children’s use of the term, ‘a fly in the ointment.’” And other times we write the completely absurd: NB: “Man falls asleep while waking up!” SP: “I’m getting rid of some old grudges, let me know if you want one?” NB: “Today I discovered that seagulls love us unconditionally.” SP: “Hey, by chance have you made lunch plans for Saturday, March 2083?” Strangely enough, these lines full of nonsense are actually very hard to craft. Sometimes months go by without either of us writing anything at all. Writing them well requires our minds to be pliable and very loose. No matter how hard we try, there are times we still get stuck in the literal parts of our brains and we cannot find a way out. SP: “Today critics sounded alarm over alarm that failed to sound.” NB: “The price of helium just went up.” SP: “I’ve decided to take a crash course in how to slow down.” Though there is irony in the three lines above, they don’t possess the absurdity of some of the others. But then sometimes our goal is to come up with lines that could be literal but aren’t: NB: “For Sale: Ceiling Fan, yellow and gray, blades come off at high speed, otherwise in good shape.” SP: “For Sale: Imaginary Chair, LIKE NEW! Send check or money order and within weeks chair will appear in your mind. Send one dollar for certificate of authenticity.” 11 Sometimes what we write is theme-oriented. A few years ago we began writing about imaginary rock bands: SP: “I heard the rock bands Claude Damnit and Type 2 Diabetes just signed with Capricorn Records.” NB: “Supposedly Voltage Drift is opening for Drove Pattern, and Steel Kludge and Rope Toner are playing at a bus stop in Downtown LA.” SP: “I thought they were touring with Box Turtle and Waking Forest?” And then sometimes we just write quick one-liners: SP: “I brake for wax moths.” Keep Reading »
NB: “Let me know if you’ve ever recalled standing?” SP: “Oak Trees are planning to rebrand themselves.” NB: “I finally found a place that rents decisions.” SP: “Today I finished a sandwich I started eating in Grade 5.” NB: “I named my dog Janus Venture Capital Fund.” SP: “Last night I picked up my guitar and figured out the entire chord progression for German potato salad.” NB: “I just noticed a truck down the street unloading voices.” SP: “I figured out how to print the Starbucks logo on car exhaust.” To this day, Neil and I continue to craft these nonsensical one-liners in the hopes that our minds can remain loose and fit and allow us to drop into the more soothing, intuitive areas of our consciousness. And maybe to let ourselves laugh out loud at the absurdity of it all. SP: “I read in the paper today that all people named Don are being recalled.” NB: “This Friday night I’m going to a tree fight.” SP: “Today goldfish were declared irrelevant.” NB: “I’m getting ready to start a gambling addiction.”. The realization that life is absurd cannot be an end, but only a beginning. - albert camus No. 149
STEVE HANEY, PIPE DREAMS
Field Guide to Falling Ill by Jonathan Gleason (2026) “Here was the inescapable tautology of illness: to be sick was to be other, and to be other was to be sick.” In the title essay of Jonathan Gleason’s 2026 collection, Field Guide to Falling Ill, he blends his own medical emergency into his work as an interpreter at a free clinic. His fingers inexplicably begin swelling and tingling, then the condition escalates with back pain and hands turning blue. His emergency appointment reveals a blood clot that takes multiple surgeries, long recoveries and emotional turmoil to remedy. Sectioned into this story are the times he has spent translating live for people in the throes of illness, unable to communicate directly with their doctors. An attempt to mirror language in the medical setting to convey pain, confusion, stress, and all the other complexities of sickness and injury. Through this work and his own medical trauma, Gleason has a window to the difficult navigation of medical practice and how chosen words, empathy, medicine and illness intersect. Field Guide to Falling Ill was the first winner of the Yale Nonfiction Book Prize, and marks a special and intimate addition to the genre of medical essays. Gleason is personal, thoughtful and wellresearched throughout each entry. In three essays scattered throughout the collection, Gleason views the AIDS epidemic in the past and present. An epistolary essay, Blood in the Water is a series of letters to the misidentified “Patient Zero” of the AIDS epidemic, Gaëtan Dugas. In A Difficult Man, he researches the revolutionary work and friendship of Joseph Sonnabend and Michael Callen. Their release of the publication How to Have Sex in a Epidemic: One Approach, along with Richard Berkowitz, marks “the first systematic attempt to prevent the spread of AIDS by adjusting sexual practices.” Gleason highlights their work around community research, ethical treatment and advocacy that helped change the trajectory of medical care during the AIDS epidemic. Viewing the present state in the essay Gilead, Gleason intimately explores his relationship with a man he is falling for, Dalton, who is HIV-positive. Gleason details his experience going on PrEP (pre-exposure prophylaxis) to reduce No. 149 the chances of getting HIV to almost zero, while emotional complexity, doubt and anxiety linger. Jonathan Gleason’s command of language breaks down barriers to understanding medical concepts and his personalization of medical writing makes these topics messy, emotional stories rather than just research. Field Guide to Falling Ill is a beautifully complex reflection on the scientific field we often interact with on the worst days of our lives. It’s Lonely at the Centre of the Earth by Zoe Thorogood (2022) Graphic novelist Zoe Thorogood’s autobiographical work brings readers deep into her mental state. Suffering from chronic depression, loneliness and suicidal ideation, Thorogood never shies away expressing the turmoil of her inner thoughts on the page. She is working towards becoming a successful artist, but struggles to overcome bouts of deep sadness and loneliness. On a trip with her family she reflects, “Even on beautiful days like this one — it feels impossible to imagine a future where I don’t kill myself.” Thorogood’s artistic style matches her interior world, drawing the monster of depression lurking in her shadow and visually displaying the various versions of herself that have contradictory takes on situations that come up in life. At one point, she gets a brief respite from the sadness, traveling to the United States from London to pursue a crush. This moment of change alters her perspective. She writes, “Zoe was really, really, small. And that felt good. An inconsequential tiny piece of a much larger picture. It was a beautiful thought.” During a comic convention scene, she illustrates how often fans tell her that her stories are relatable, that it happens so often it’s the only thing she hears, but it’s hard to find another way to describe this work. Zoe Thorogood’s artistry is honest and chaotic, dark and real, sometimes silly and hopeful. It’s Lonely at the Centre of the Earth is a vulnerable and emotional honoring of the effort and tumult of living with mental illness as a survivor. By Hana Zittel
JOSEPH POPE III, BIRDY LANDS AT HUMAN RESOURCES
SCOTT FULLER, 2001 A PUNK ODYSSEY
No. 149
ERIC JOYNER, LAWN MOWER - ERICJOYNER.COM
h No. 149
BRIAN J HOFFMAN - @BRIANJAYHOFFMAN
BONE CASTER – ROMANCE THE SERPENT From the fantastical song titles — like “Bioluminescent Butterfly” and “Tower to the Moon” — to the varied BY TOM MURPHY textures and moods of the songs, it is clear that Brad Schumacher offers us a full journey through a mythical space in music. With roots in dungeon synth and black metal, Schumacher transcends with great imagination in the arrangements, taking us to places of tranquil and transcendent beauty through passages of gritty, dark, eldritch peril with spooky ambient pastoral folk and cosmic drones. Listening to the album is like hearing a visionary, transformative fantasy and horror film that simply doesn’t exist but really should. Robert Eggers should direct. GRAPHICS – THE GREAT UNCONFUSING At the nexus of Tortoise, Captain Beefheart, 70s prog and math-y free jazz one will find something approaching what you’ll hear on this album. Graphics seems to free-associate, going off into melodic passages and then back into gloriously discordant yet expertly syncopated rhythms that accent and augment the way guitar lines run, while bass guides the texture and tonality of the music. Even in its most challenging sections, there is something joyful in the performances that instantly render its experimental leanings accessible. The cinematic flourishes of the songs suggest a narrative of getting back on track and focused after an extended period of journeying in the psychological and creative wilderness. MANMADEMADMAN – FOURWARN’D Think of this fourth album from Manmademadman as a more inspired collection of experiments in synth composition and songwriting. Though the tracks are coherent, each feels as though it is guided by intuitive experiments in production and the expression of moods and psychological spaces. The lyrics come across as poetic sketches of emotions often buried. Musically it spans IDM, psychedelic industrial, techno and ambient. In moments it hits the same part of the brain most stimulated by The Legendary Pink Dots, Burial and Depeche Mode. Yet it never feels derivative and the immediacy of the production keeps it a fresh listen beginning to end. THE SNAIL – DADAO HUMAN MUSIC If Dirty Beaches went full plunderphonics dub and sound collage, Alex Zhang Hungtai might be doing something like this. Just turn off genre expectations and take in the sounds and masterful production techniques that Vail Kuntz employs. It’s almost like cut-up technique was used in the song title generation, yet the wordplay is perfect for each track. The images suggested by “Funk Shui” and “Anemic Boogie” alone, and the sound paired with each, create new associations in the brain which music doesn’t do often enough. The latter song in times is reminiscent of Nicolas Jaar and King Tubby, but written as a pop song that expands the very concept. WHEELCHAIR SPORTS CAMP – OH IMPERFECTA If you’re expecting the same kind of visionary, jazz-infused hip-hop heard on 2016’s NO BIG DEAL, this is a major leap in a different direction. The evocative beatmaking still informs the songwriting and the spectacular sense of rhythm that has been a part of Kalyn Heffernan’s projects all along. But some of this music is exuberant punk that punctures notions of privilege with imagination, compassion and humor, lending each song an elevated righteousness that renders even its most pointed invective a poetic elegance. With contributions from Jello Biafra, Amy Goodman, RAREBYRD$, Kimya Dawson, Olivia Jean and Junia-T, this album expands concepts of punk and hip-hop, illuminating each subject in ways the genres have needed. WHITE SATAN AND FARM TOAD – WOLF A genre-bending re-imagining of country classics as darkly pastoral. The vocals are often processed and distorted so that while every song benefits from exquisite performances from Gregory Hill, Maureen Hearty and Kim 9, each feels subversive and somehow off in a way that still works. Not in a William Shatner covering “Rocket Man” way. But listen to “Some Velvet Morning” (Lee Hazlewood and Nancy Sinatra), “She Thinks I Still Care” (George Jones), “Wichita Lineman” (Glen Campbell) and “Hello It’s Me” (Todd Rundgren). For those familiar, there is something sinister and unsettling that is truly more Satanic music as considered by Anton LaVey, than the bombastic heavy metal of the 70s and 80s that modern day Puritans keyed into for the Satanic panic. SEE MORE: QUEENCITYSOUNDS.ORG No. 149
BY DAVE DANZARA AKA LOST IN TIME DESIGNS The empire entertains them as it falls. Because the collapse is padded by comfort. How can we trust history when the present is being manipulated in front of you? 25
No. 149
meditation BY MATT HAVER There is no now that is nower than now ya know? MUSTAFA SHERPIDIN, YEARNING
CONSTANTLY AMAZED BY DANIEL 'DL' LANDES We draw strength from the decay around us, like children playing on the banks of a poisoned river, we cleanse ourselves in foul water and coagulated fat. Never stuck, we draw butterflies on the inside of our concentration camp walls and blow them alive and away over the razor wire to alight on the limb of the old cypress tree. Hand in hand we leave fresh tracks in the ash of cities in riot and skip stones off the reflection of the blood moon. We are not the red flesh pasted to a white wall of a preschool surrounded by cop cars and media vans. We are not the shooter within. We are not what travels in and out of our mouths and our assholes. We just happened upon this place; to us there is only beauty. So we coo to each other in museum whispers; constantly amazed by the end of the world. No. 149
NICK FLOOK, STAR GAZER - @FLOOKO
RAY YOUNG CHU, THE STRONG WILL SURVIVE No. 149
THE FORK BY ZAC DUNN One of two paths shall Always remain in more Ways than one That are always different But never the same twice To be the lonely bear Wandering hungry in the wild To never know contentment To be the sheep Who eats and sleeps In peace on the Other side of the fence Awaiting the blade's kiss To wisp the breath we spent in vein Knowing only an empty pain of comfort Neither is better but those will suffice As we charge into the next fork With our eyes on the prize FOLLOW FOR MORE — IG: @UZIEGO TUMBLR: @SAVAGESNEVERSLEEPNYC 31 BRIAN SERWAY, CLEVER GIRL - @BSERWAY
HARI REN, #CARDBOARDCATS - @HARIR3N
1 Publizr