Letter From the Editor
By Mikki Halpin
Welcome to Damn Joan No. 3, The Hunt!
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Sharks have always been my favorite predator. What’s more feminist than a species that is not only capable of virgin birth but also can abort their fetuses on demand? Plus, you know, blood. Not only that, but Donald Trump hates them and they bite men who annoy them. I’ve seen all three Jaws movies numerous times—I’ve even seen Deep Blue Sea—and I’m hereby dedicating The Hunt, our third issue, to sharks everywhere.
We might need to develop some DIY abortion skills if Crisis Pregnancy Centers keep up what they’re doing—luring people into their clinics by pretending to offer abortion care and then pressuring them to continue the pregnancy, with scare tactics ranging from warnings about the wrath of god to throwing around fake science about breast cancer. Damn Joan partnered with Gizmodo for an investigative look at the sinister new way CPCs are operating—read the stories on our site and on theirs.
On a happier note, Aunt Freckle is back, with advice on vital social niceties like what to do when your body betrays you, whether love is more important than money, and whether makeup might be more important than both of them.
And on the happiest note of all, check out our FIRST DAMN GAME! As an exquisite protest to all the hideous realities of Valentine’s Day, we’ve created Cupid Must Die. Cruise through the marble halls of Mt. Olympus and exact revenge on the chubby-cheeked little imp who preys on vulnerable hearts and pierces them with longing. Once stung by Cupid’s bow, we all become hunters—but now we’re hunting him. The game is full of Easter eggs and surprises—keep an eye out for Drake—and it’s suitable for every relationship status.
Editor in chief