WHAT MAKES THE SOUTH SO DAMN FOUL?
Absolutely everything. From drug-front-laundromats to pussyfooting hospitality, there’s no shortage of lewd associations with our low country of trigger-happy lawmen and bible-thumpers. Steeped in contradiction or not, this region hides behind nothing but their word (and drug-front,) however sinful or pure. Still, the romantic in me likes to dwell on Georgia’s cicada choir, charming abandoned houses, and nightshade-scented summers.
Both accurate portraits, but the South that draws me in is the matter-of-fact haven of free speech and shameless characters. Brazen honesty is what led me to start Foul South Magazine—because in an era where memes and failed ass implants take precedence over quality information, finding who and what’s worth our time can be difficult. With all the crap out there, it’s genuine personalities and ideas that make a cynic feel alive, and that’s where we come in. We’ve made it our duty to find people who slay their field, be it skateboarders who do it for more than the ‘likes’, or silversmiths inspired by found totems in New Orleans: If they’re good, wild, and driven, we cover ‘em.
So whether you’re conked out on the couch wondering what to do with yourself, or taking a break from a job you hate, find us—crack a beer, open an article and take in the work of people who give a shit, because we do.
Mariel Zayas-Bazan, EIC.