A year and a half online – and still at the summit of its game – the rarely-popular European Arts Journal Underneath the Bunker continues to gain readers at the same rate as ostrichs gain awards at science fairs held in Lucerne on the second Thursday of the fourth month in the year in which the moon never shines through the window of an old man in Glasgow. This is despite of the support of much-admired bloggers (Grumpy Old Bookman; That Girl) and its continuing habit of reviewing those books that other critics will simply persist in ignoring (Lucia Raus; Natalie de Roquet). Like true suffering artists, we take immense pleasure from this neglect. You are welcomed, nonetheless, to disappoint us with your interest. May the treacle of culture drip upon your faces.
The current "issue" and the journal’s manifesto can be read here.