Who, where, and what is the Feral Fringe?

The quick answer: the people, places, and things of Ye Olde Covidtimes, a new age marked by a pandemic that’s radically upended or changed people’s lives. With our day-to-days markedly different than before, many of us found ourselves living as foreigners in a strange land and strangers in a foreign land — the fallen-through-the-crackers and missing persons whose fate, by choice or chance, was a certain exile from the life they were accustomed to. Meanwhile, social norms snapped like brittle branches beneath the weight of a freak ice storm. Anomie has rendered entire subsets of the population invisible, and everyone’s doing unspeakable things. This is the new Wild West.

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Raw, real, relatable, revelatory.

Dispatches aims to shine a light on Covidtimes’ darker recesses, giving shape to the era’s otherwise nebulous ghost world and its specter residents. Here you’ll get an underexposed take on life at the outskirts of town.

Come be fringe, not cringe.

Be part of a pack of lone wolves who howl for humanity and its many follies. You may feel free to submit your own Dispatch. Hopefully you see yourselves reflected here, whether you’ve gone cottagecore or goblin mode. Covidtimes ain’t easy, but the human spirit — a new, reinvented one — shall triumph.

To find out more about the innovative publishing platform that’s powering Dispatches from the Feral Fringe, visit substack.com.

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What happens when the winds of change blow really hard? You land somewhere peculiar called the Feral Fringe. Covidtimes for many may appear in the rearview, but for countless others, fringe became the norm. These dispatches paint a picture of that life.

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Papa was a rodeo. Mama was a rock ‘n roll band. I could play guitar and rope a steer before I learned to stand.