I've always felt that magazines get a bad rap. They occupy this kind of limbo-like space between literature and entertainment, and as a result, are often relegated to the darkest corners of doctor/dentists' offices all over the globe.
While it's often said that print is dead, the demise of the written word certainly doesn't appear to be anywhere on the horizon. With that in mind, here is a collection of magazines from the '80s and '90s that I vote we bring back into circulation.
With scintillating headlines like "Learn Numbers with the Count" and "Help Cookie Eat Right," I'm amazed that this Sesame Street companion magazine ever went out of print in the first place. There aren't enough magazines out there that are strictly for kids, anymore.
Creepy magazine was a collection of illustrated horror tales that were guaranteed to set your teeth on edge. Every issue was published in black and white, and what also made Creepy unique was that it didn't carry the Comics Code Authority.
The magazine Popular Electronics was widely distributed and incredibly popular for the bulk of the '70s and '80s. Before it ceased publication, it was the world's most widely-read electronics magazine and is credited with igniting the home PC revolution.
If you didn't spend the bulk of your childhood clipping articles and photos from the pages of Tiger Beat, then you clearly didn't live through the '80s and '90s. I can still remember how my sister's room used to be awash in clippings of The Backstreet Boys.
One of dance music's most significant revolutions took place in the early '90s. Dance Music Report was essential reading for anyone who claimed to have even a casual interest in the genre or the technology and equipment that supported it.
I had completely forgotten about the movie Good Burger until I saw the front cover of this issue. If that isn't reason enough as to why we should bring back Nickelodeon magazine, then I don't know what is.
We need to shine more light on women in sports — it's as simple as that. womenSport magazine was way ahead of its time, and something of the like would carry a lot of sway in the 21st century.
If you fancy yourself a fan of The New Yorker, then you're going to absolutely love Wigwag. This magazine was founded by ex-employees of the former who were looking to bring something new and exciting to the table.
First of all, absolutely no dogs were harmed during the making of this magazine. Secondly, if you're someone who has grown up worshipping films like Animal House and Christmas Vacation, then this magazine is the one for you.
TheaterWeek was one of the only magazines in circulation that had anything intelligent to say about the New York theater circuit at large. They covered everything from Broadway plays to small independent productions in dire need of audience support.
Yet another classic for horror fans to drool over. Suffice it to say that The Twilight Zone has become synonymous with the strange and unusual forces that inhabit our world. Trust me when I say that Jordan Peele has nothing on Rod Sterling.
I like to think of Cracked magazine as the bastard brother of MAD. It may not have been able to live up to the journalistic standards set forward by Alfred E. Neuman and company, but it was equally as funny and far more raunchy.
Throughout the '90s The Simpsons had the final word in the world of animation. Their yellow faces were emblazoned on everything from t-shirts to lunch boxes. Considering that the show is still going after more than 30 seasons, it seems sad that the magazine was so short-lived.
When I was a kid growing up, having a monthly subscription to Nintendo Power often meant the difference between beating your favorite video game and giving up forever in a fit of tears and frustration. I recently just purchased a Nintendo Switch system and I could certainly use some help...
In its heyday, MAD magazine was an American institution. Not only did MAD boast some of the best writers and editors in the business, but they were positively fearless — lambasting everything from Star Wars to Britney Spears.
