There are a few titles with a similar look and feel knocking around these days, though I’ve never actually seen anyone reading them. They turn up in doctors’ waiting rooms, hairdressers and lying around on public transport
A few of us Conspiraloons have discussed this peculiar publishing genre in the past without coming up with any concrete answers about what they’re all about.
You could argue that they’re simply the modern day manifestation of the ‘Penny Dreadfuls’ of the 19th Century and before; crafted to meet a basic human desire for a little death porn and the simple, honest pleasure that can be had from reading about other peoples’ misfortunes – the more fucked up and bizarre the better
But the big difference between these modern magazines and what went before is the way they’re presented – all bright and colourful, with a cover picture of a smiling attractive woman and titles like ‘Take a Break’, 'Pick Me Up' and ‘Love It!’
‘I’ve wanted to kill myself over marriage split’
‘A can of cola put me in a coma’
‘Cheating hubby was branded a rapist’
WTF is 'It' when 'It's' at home?
Week in week out reams of this stuff is published with a consistent mix of mutilation, death, betrayal and misery; presented in the same cheery format, very carefully aimed at a particular segment of the general public.
No, I don’t pretend to know what it’s all about but the combination of the pathologically morbid with the cheerful visuals reeks of having a deliberately disconcerting psychological impact – the kind of fucked up shit those cheeky chappies over at Tavistock famously pioneered. It's hard to believe that such an unmistakable and frequently-used format is being applied by chance.
Who knows what’s going on? Maybe someone is deliberately fucking with working class women’s heads or maybe this stuff really does just sell well
Whatever, it creeps me out big time
and remember, it's only subliminal if you don't notice...