Part I: Created entirely by accident, I swear…
Dylan happened to remind me of this ‘monthly publication’ idea at the exact moment I was reflecting on how awesome Gonzo Journalism–my recent obsession–was. Things clicked, and it’s been downhill ever since ;p
A. The Former:
I’d toyed with the idea of a monthly magazine for several months; after I abandoned outright plans to start a publishing house, especially now that I’m back at NYU, I retained this little idea for a magazine–no ideas for content or form or much anything of substance, just the idea. Originally it would have been the forerunner to the publishing house–building me a name and reputation off which to erect a sweeping publishing empire, of course. But as the publishing house, per se, was pushed further and further into the future, that magazine stuck with me. Nothing really stopping me from trying…and if it took off I could then dabble about with this publishing house as well, so…
Well, life got in the way for a bit. I’d tentatively (that is, randomly) approached a few people–Dylan Stayman, Jon Levine, and perhaps one or two others–but mostly let it drop for a while as school, moving, running about, and sex (oh, how i wish…) cropped up more and more.
Nevertheless, one of my two classes kept the dream from all but dying. This journalism course–all this talk of liberty, freedom of speech, of the press, democracy, a libertarian press, absolute 1st-isms, hope, justice, libertariani justice–got me riled up. I’d written for my school newspaper back in the day and more or less enjoyed the hell out of it. But I’d drifted off into more literary stuffs, vague and ambling as that all was, and so from journalism. But this class not only re-fired the old passions, it set new blazes. I really wanted to be a journalist this time, save the world in whatever way I could or something. Prof Kroeger just seemed so coool….
So with every mention of colonial presses and papers, comparisons with european papers, analyses of modern issues, blah blah blah, I’d think how I‘d do it with my own publication, how I‘d do it my way if I could…but something seemed slightly lacking in the picture….
B. The Latter:
Gonzo itself held and still holds a certain strange fascination for me, a recently inducted Journalism major. I’d read up on it some before such that with every mention of journalistic objectivity, ethics, method, a little voice would say, “Well, not always….” So my fascination grew; further research was done.
To be sure definite elements must be kept, I felt, the “gonzo”–the degree of presence the author holds within the piece–chief among them. There was something incredibly alluring about that–I’d had the most fun writing Op-Ed’s than anything else for my high school’s newspaper, so it was obviously in my blood. But the level of disregard, unrestraint…so unabashedly the author…mmm, delicious.
The dedication to greater truth soon follows. I have always, always, championed greater truth in everything. People have mocked me–saying, “Can’t there be entertainment for entertainment’s sake?”–not realizing how profoundly I wanted to scream “No, you nimwit, what the fuck’s the use of that!?” more from indignation than sincerity of feeling–I’ll admit, I like Jackass, I like Jackass a lot, and lord knows there’s no “deeper,” “higher” meaning to any of that except perhaps that humanity should count itself lucky to have survived this far. No I understand that entertainment is to entertain; I’ve made peace with this–allay thy fears, down thy lances, O critics of mine!
But art. Or serious work. Whatever. That assuredly needs something worth its weight, something worth my time to have appreciated it–otherwise, why the fuck should I give a damn.
Anyway, so this emphasis on writing to something higher appeals to me muchly. Being also a sometimes poet I find the license to craft things towards this while still being so grounded in the truth–an orgasm, to say the least.
Other things though–the plethora of drugs, the “rawness”–appeal less although certainly interesting in their own right.
But gonzo afforded me too many licenses I crave to simply pfft it off for its drug-crazed reputation and so forth. First, I don’t think I’d survive long having to utterly abandon my literary leanings; gonzo lets me not only keep to them but make them integral to the writing. Second, the more I learn about objectivity and so forth in journalism, the more I’d sooner be damned than forcibly differentiate my bias, opinion, self out anymore than I truly needed. And damnit I’m gonna have my way on both counts it would seem.
C. Folly and Happenstance;
It is important to understand that, first and foremost, I am a fool.
I was actually on a date, if one can say such things, or date-like substitute when it happened (my poor date, or date-like substitute; I think I managed to reign myself so the poor kid wasn’t too traumatized.
We were having a rich man’s dinner on Weinstein Stoop–that is, I was too poor for much beyond one overpriced Naked, but understand that was all of that day’s breakfast, lunch, and dinner. He was having a few pieces from the buffet thing in Space. Truly, dinner of champions.
I’d managed, again, to work myself into a towering ramble of some kind or another, and just as I was reaching some of my key gonzo rants, out of the corner of my eye, I see Mani going into Weinstein–so already emotionally caught off-gaurd, seeing my ex in the middle of a date like that–and then suddenly assailed from the front by my good friend dylan asking me what’s the news on that monthly magazine thing.
Well, it was an overloaded moment to be sure–ripe for madness. I jabbered something satisfactory because we were saying “I’ll catch up with you later,” when it hit. And it hit hard. All that libertarian zeal from Kroeger, all that enthusiasm for gonzo, all that desire to publish and be published, collided then with all the rainbow magic of an acid trip.
Why couldn’t I combine it all–make a gonzo-y, in fact, gonzoid, magazine…. I had interested people to write for me, literary and editory friends to work with, and just enough of that good ole gumption (and madness) to pull it all off….
Well various friends were duelly intrigued. I made a facebook group; there was discussion; it was Arielle who suggested starting online–even on a blog–for saving money and building readership type-reasons.
And so…here we are.
Upwards, to “About…”
Nextwards, to “Part II: What it all bloody means”
