The Anticraft
this issue

the anticraft > archive > letter from the editrices

Lughnasadh 2007

Issue the Eighth: Calling Nurse Ratched
by Renée Rigdon and Zabet Stewart

"If Mr. McMurphy doesn't want to take his medication orally, I'm sure we can arrange that he can have it some other way. But I don't think that he would like it."
-Nurse Ratched, One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest (film quote, 1975)

Over the past three months, we have been trying to kill ourselves.

All right, to be accurate, Zabet has been ill; Renée has been injured.

Between the two of us, we would have made a damn fine starter for the world’s first Crafters' Hospital. In fact, we think we might start that. Sure, we obviously only know enough about medicine to know when we are sick (or injured), but that should be enough to treat people for all the craft-related ailments that can befall us, right? Right?

Okay, maybe not.

As time to update with the new issue approaches, our ailments have been on our minds a lot lately. Zabet, though grateful for the $30,000 scholarship and a chance to represent her peeps in the Miss Universe pagent, is sick of being the Mucous Queen; Renée is tired of house arrest—er, bed rest—and the constant, burning pain; but we're neither sick nor tired of the offerings we bring to you on this Loonawsa. Lughnasa. Um . . . Lughna . . . nevermind. [Sidenote: Has anyone else noticed how damn hard to spell that is? Maybe we need a pneumonic device, but we'd rather just have our medications. Orally please.]

Herein you will find eight projects to soothe your summertime sniffles and sufferings. Kick your feet up, have your manservant bring you a martini (or some Crunk Juice, perhaps, depending on world affairs) and enjoy.


homeantifestothis issuearchivesubmiterratamastheadcontact uslegal