December 21, 2024

As the Editor-in-Chief and founder of Pink Disco, I want to first give my sincere thanks for allowing us to continue this little misfit magazine for two years now. When I first conceived of this publication, I had no idea what kind of audience there would be for such a thing. I only believed that amongst all the places for writers and artists to submit their work, there were few spaces that truly embraced the multitudinous nature of sexuality, took it seriously, and celebrated it in all its forms. Good. Bad. And Ugly.

Since our last issue, the publishing landscape hasn’t changed much but our social, political, and cultural landscape has. Now, more than ever, there’s a real need for voices of resistance against misogyny, queerphobia, transphobia, and ideas of cultural supremacy. Pink Disco is proud to be in that fight.

And what more appropriate archetype to invoke for such a pièce de resistance than the devil.

Setting aside the Abrahamic interpretation of the devil, such trickster figures are also regarded as adversaries, rebels, misfits, and even (gasp) humanity’s protector against the tyranny of the gods. It was Prometheus, seen in some traditions as a mask of the devil figure, who loved humankind enough to defy the gods for our development and ultimate survival.

The interpretation of the devil card in the tarot is just as complicated. In most traditional circles, the devil represents indulgence, vice, and bondage to earthly delights in lieu of the higher spiritual rewards. This, though, is a reading derivative of A.E. Waite’s interpretation of the tarot as depicted in the Smith/Wiate deck, a byproduct of the Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn tradition, which was infused with Christian undertones. In Crowley’s reinterpretation with his Toth tarot, he saw the devil as: “material energy in its most creative form.” The devil is the spirit infused in flesh. It is the creative fire underlying all things material. As the old priests have always proselytized, to celebrate the flesh is to celebrate the devil.

Winter, too, is a season that beautifully wrestles with the relationship between darkness and light. The figure of Christ is one who was able to conquer death. The traditional tree is a symbol of the perseverance of life amongst a season of death. And the ancient Roman festival of Sol Invictus celebrated the “unconquerable sun” in times of winter. The name Lucifer, translated as light bringer, also encapsulates the interdependent relationship between light and darkness, life and death.

This, of course, is all a simplistic reading of this very nuanced and complicated figure. And my point is simply to illustrate the many masks that the devil may wear. Perhaps it’s her elusiveness that makes her such a trickster.

The pieces selected for this issue all interpret this theme and this figure in slightly varied ways, some more overtly than others. All are, in my opinion, pieces of resistance that take seriously our relationship with flesh, carnality, and (gasp) the devil.

To help celebrate this winter solstice, we are also excited to feature our first collaborative artist, Luxa Strata, host of Lux Occult podcast and founder of the Green Mushroom Project and Void House. You can check out more of her work with your chosen podcatcher, YouTube, and Instagram.

Sol Invictus.


The long, cold night is upon us.

In this season of manifested joys, of treats made of fake food and trees felled and risen again garishly decorated, of lights of unnatural colors lit to symbolize one’s accordance with traditions maligned over the centuries, we choose instead to celebrate a different kind of material seduction.

This is also a time of my own exit from the shackles of capitalism, no matter how temporary. The following pieces spoke to the resolve I am feeling.

Caterina Minezzi’s Sexy Nightmare is the opposite of a misnomer. Expertly rendered, it reminds me of some of my own strife-filled, passionate dreams. Irina Tall Novikova’s work is recognizable by anyone who frequents this space and we’re happy to have it! These pieces harkened for me a sense of those age-old angels, multi-winged, multi-eyed, something between a beast and a paragon, full of passion and fallen from grace. Anna Kirby responded to the question of ‘The Devil?’ with the answer: Venus Riding the Carousel. This collage struck a chord in me, a rememberance of the classic Venus rising, now a figure to stand against the horned-one. Keira Norton, another repeat submitter, was ahead of her time in her aptly-named The Devil from issues passed and we’ve chosen to honor its appropriateness by republishing it in this edition. Finally, in the realm of photography, Rachel Turney and Luxa Strata offer us images of debauchery, one quiet and one loud, both promising release from whatever binds you.

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This issue’s playlist can be found here.