Another Brush With Mortality,
Or Liminal Notes
by carl juarez
It seems most everyone this issue is speaking, as much as ink can speak, of beginnings and endings, so, whilst we wait for our ultra-rational masters from planet Nicholas, a word from the excluded middle.
Nostalgia for a past that will never be reminds me of a story. In this story Apparatchik had been published for half its life before Victor enjoined me to proofread. Around this time Andy, whose amor fou had started the gears turning, took on Victor as co-editor, and somewhere back there myself as well -- it's all kinda a blur right now.
With three full-on storytellers for editors, and many gifted writers and artists for contributors, the collective post facto entity also known as Apak can never be entirely described by any single point of view, but we can all have pride in our collective creation. Much fine writing has occurred (it would be rude to single out my friends, so I'll mention Ted White and Christina Lake, whom I've never met). Or maybe we peaked with the Thompsonesque X-Files parody, or the Ray Nelson baseball illo, I dunno.
Anyhow, I thank Andy and Victor for giving me the opportunity to participate in a historic, or at least historical, contribution to this decades-long conversation that could be called fandom. It was hard sailing, and a privilege.
On a different sort of note, any readers in Seattle during the pride festivities this weekend might stop by Volunteer Park immediately after the parade to see Tami Vining's band Chibavision, in which I play guitar, play in front of way too many people. (I'm not much of a rock guitarist, but we have some pretty good songs.) Show starts at 1:30, Sunday the 29th, but as that's s.q.t. (Standard Queer Time) we'll all deal with it.
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