Bimbo Agitprop captures the reality of growing up in West Texas in the early 21st century, through Satanic Panics, Y2K, a recession, abusive parents, shitty men, identity-centric politics, and woke/anti-woke pendulum swings. Reflective of the author's era (born in the late 1990s) of hyperindividualist over-sharing of late 2010s internet, while being firmly grounded in the unfiltered, handmade, radically anti-establishment art of the 1960s underground comix, Raquelle Jac keeps her wounds fresh and open to both remember the past and protect herself in the future. At turns explicit, hilarious, profane, and defiant, Bimbo Agitprop is both an act of self-preservation and a call to arms. Jac boldly embraces frivolity, 'bimboism,' comedy, memory, and storytelling to interrogate reality in the 2020s, ping-ponging among relationships, psychedelic trips, good sex, bad sex, romance, and trauma. Her dense, obsessive pages read like a manifesto, announcing the arrival of an arresting new voice in comics.

Bimbo Agitprop captures the reality of growing up in West Texas in the early 21st century, through Satanic Panics, Y2K, a recession, abusive parents, shitty men, identity-centric politics, and woke/anti-woke pendulum swings. Reflective of the author's era (born in the late 1990s) of hyperindividualist over-sharing of late 2010s internet, while being firmly grounded in the unfiltered, handmade, radically anti-establishment art of the 1960s underground comix, Raquelle Jac keeps her wounds fresh and open to both remember the past and protect herself in the future. At turns explicit, hilarious, profane, and defiant, Bimbo Agitprop is both an act of self-preservation and a call to arms. Jac boldly embraces frivolity, 'bimboism,' comedy, memory, and storytelling to interrogate reality in the 2020s, ping-ponging among relationships, psychedelic trips, good sex, bad sex, romance, and trauma. Her dense, obsessive pages read like a manifesto, announcing the arrival of an arresting new voice in comics.

Bimbo Agitprop captures the reality of growing up in West Texas in the early 21st century, through Satanic Panics, Y2K, a recession, abusive parents, shitty men, identity-centric politics, and woke/anti-woke pendulum swings. Reflective of the author's era (born in the late 1990s) of hyperindividualist over-sharing of late 2010s internet, while being firmly grounded in the unfiltered, handmade, radically anti-establishment art of the 1960s underground comix, Raquelle Jac keeps her wounds fresh and open to both remember the past and protect herself in the future. At turns explicit, hilarious, profane, and defiant, Bimbo Agitprop is both an act of self-preservation and a call to arms. Jac boldly embraces frivolity, 'bimboism,' comedy, memory, and storytelling to interrogate reality in the 2020s, ping-ponging among relationships, psychedelic trips, good sex, bad sex, romance, and trauma. Her dense, obsessive pages read like a manifesto, announcing the arrival of an arresting new voice in comics.