A Bone to Pick

We’re the fly in the ointment. The vinegar in the well. We’re in the corner of the party, arms crossed, unimpressed. Spoilsports, killjoys, pot-stirrers, poets, and dreamers. That sacred cow you keep milking? We’ve come creeping through the fields to tip it. Those embers smouldering in the streets? We’re down on our knees, fanning the glow into a full-fledged conflagration.

SQUABBLER is a place where we vent our bile, spew our spleen, howl from the rooftops to shake the pillars where they stand. Here you’ll find essays, rants, polemics, diatribes, and creative works designed to spark discussion, discordance, and dissent. Don’t dream about a better world, scream about one.