Whether LS-Land returns for Issue 17 (rumored topic: “Dandelion Smoke, 0.003”) is unclear. For now, remains a shimmering artifact—a reminder that the smallest common flower, properly regarded, can contain a universe of resistance.
A photo series by lensmith R.K. Thorne. Daisies superimposed over industrial accidents. A child’s hand holding a bloom, but the background shows a collapsing cooling tower. The effect is unsettling, not merely ironic. The accompanying essay, “Weed as Witness,” argues that the daisy—Eurocentric, over-discussed in Romantic poetry—becomes radical only when it refuses to symbolize innocence. LS-Magazine-LS-Land-Issue-16-Daisies-15.525
A surprising pivot: actual correspondence from one resident of Daisy, Kentucky (pop. 109), interspersed with LS-Land’s fictionalized responses. The real letters discuss crop rotation and a missing cat named Fibonacci. The fictional replies discuss entropy and the heat-death of the universe. The dissonance is heartbreakingly funny. Whether LS-Land returns for Issue 17 (rumored topic:
A faux-technical manual with circuit diagrams, soil pH charts, and a cryptic ritual: “Place 15.525 grams of dried daisy petals into a brass bowl. Recite the 1932 radio broadcast of the last daisy merchant of Seine-Saint-Denis. Wait for the hum.” This section reads like a love child between William S. Burroughs and a permaculture zine. Thorne
However, after checking across available databases, literary archives, and periodical indices (including niche and small-press listings), as of my latest knowledge update. It does not appear in standard magazine registries, ISBN/ISSN systems, or major digital archives.
The issue’s final page is a blank square of creamy paper, with a single instruction: “Place a pressed daisy here. Write your own 15.525 below. Then pass this magazine to someone you do not yet trust.” As of this writing, no known library holds LS-Magazine LS-Land Issue 16 in its physical collection. Scattered PDFs circulate among private collectors and a small Discord server dedicated to “plant-based transmodernism.” The original print run was rumored to be 150 copies, each with a different dried daisy taped to the inside back cover—15.525 millimeters from the spine, according to the colophon.
Ending on a radio-frequency transmission log, this section claims that at exactly 15.525 MHz, on clear nights, one can hear the “photosynthetic whisper” of daisy fields. Whether hoax or poetry, it includes a QR code (still active, leading to a 47-second loop of static and a woman humming “Greensleeves”). The LS-Land Aesthetic For the uninitiated, LS-Magazine has published LS-Land as a biannual “anti-geographic” journal since 2019. Each issue focuses on a specific plant or mineral, but Issue 16 feels different. There is no defined “LS-Land”—it is not a place on any map. Rather, LS-Land is a state of attention, a willingness to see the numinous in the overlooked.