A Letter From the Editor

To whom it may concern, 

There persists a bloody thump that begets the writer; An underlying rhythm that chillily exhales onto the editor. A subterranean beast that moans to be fed: the Reader. 

The current crop of reporting, decidedly in alternative publications (our reporters unremorsefully included), has pronounced optics as their idol. Wherein the text functions superfluously, yet nonetheless requisite to the operation. Material that is non-mandatory and leisurely participatory. Pieces that work in dull mediums, whose performances are reserved for entrance exams and cover letters– a serif-fonted logjam consuming valuable real estate. We hope to write and report tirelessly and furiously. Beholden to wild and curious thought, which cries drunk with life! 

This, however, is not to say that media and text work against each other. On the contrary. Rather, it's at the fault of the editor– we are failing to enhance the contents that we wish to celebrate. For how could the journalistic cannon find phenomena wherein Ralph Stedman’s name must also incur Hunter S. Thompson’s, or Bill Eppridge’s with James Mills’?  

Thus, there indeed exists an intersection, a tandem, wherein the reader is not begrudgingly retiring themself to isolated reading. Whether binaries exist beyond for editorial, for entertainment, or for explanatory purposes. Instead, we seek to provide material that exploits the remarkably ingenious, savvy, and hungry (depraved) reporter that sees out stories with vision and tact. 

Now, dear Reader, I will say now that through subjective experience, concrete and itemized reason and out-sourced professional opinion, we’ll trudge through truth to interpret it into that beyond. To not only saturate you with the facts of life, but to illuminate the senses. The breaching emotion that journalism can, and ought to, offer. We will bring to you the understanding that we are provided with the burden of contextualizing something all-encompasing into something honest and conclusive: We will perform as the reporting wills us. 

At Angler, we will work in gratuitous flair; we will employ buzzy syntax and form. However, our foremost concern is the understanding that our subjective reason is only earned through objective truth. Call it new-new journalism, call it pastiche-gonzo, frankly, call it whatever the hell you want! 

But Angler will: 

Be for neat-necktied commuters,

Be for unintelligible poets displaying cupped hands for a fix, 

Be for buff pull-men on scaffolding,

Be for meak souls buried in whatever have you,

Be for architects of the soul, bemarked by the grease pencil, 

Be for victims of the inkblot, of the superman in the mirror,

Be for well fed, cross legged, informationalists, 

Be for all who choose to indulge. 

Angler will dig beneath the surface. And Reader, I’m excited for you to see what's in store.