This issue matchmakes an unlikely couple, rhymes skill with kill and junk with spunk, spells Dolls, Pistols, Clash in Greek and Latin, invites retrospection and opens up future prospects in textscapes and noisy proclamations. What can still be read in past provocations? What freedom forces meaning into text? Why is philology not an island holding off the barbarians, while punk meant using rotten wood dust as tinder? Don’t we live simultaneously in punk’s agenda of political intersectionality and the philological consideration...