Halloween … yeah, I know horror, I know bloodshed. I know the smell of carnage hanging like a wet blanket
over a thousand blistering bodies. I know the fly kissed, vacant stare of the corpse. I've seen it all, right here at
Hullaballoo headquarters. I am so in touch with the macabre at this very moment, it would make ole H.P.
downright jealous. Horror I know. There's been nothing but the melody of the death rattle to fill the putrid air
day and night for the last seven days. You try getting a mask and a comic of Giordano.
Hall-o-ween. Samhain. The Day of the Dead. Such delicious words. Let's face it, the Hullaballoo staff only
switched to a two-month format so we could start working on the Halloween issue early. And when we weren't
working or schooling, or drinking ourselves to death, or obsessively – compulsively watching Mystery Science
Theatre 3000, we were reading Lovecraft, Poe, Byron, Hex Files, Goth comics, Charles Addams cartoons, liner
notes to all bands dark and gloomy, watching Ed Wood flicks, Blair Witch, the Crow. Basically bloating our time
on all things ghoulish and sublime. And there's no reason why that can't be done year round, 'cept we can call
it "research" this month.
So.
We begin this issue with an interview with a psychic and end with a murderer. We like to be well rounded, ya
know. In between you'll get mine and Jim's baby: the trials of sorting out just what Goth was and has become;
mainly for those who think "Goth" means "Marilyn Manson fans deliberately trying to torture their parents,"
and for those like Jim and I who have been involved with the Goth movement at some point and time and have yet
to nail it down. I mean, what do you 80's "Cure heads" out there think about what "Goth" has come to
mean?? Check out the Letters to the Editors page for some more inquiry on this topic.
Nothing like being misunderstood, eh?
Basically what you will find between these two covers is a lesson in Darwinism. Let's say: a survival of the fittest. There were many, many people who were fairly bursting to contribute to a Halloween issue and then were unable to come through in the end, leaving us empty handed where we thought we were rich. Others indulged their poison pens and – voila. You have what you see before you. The strongest will meet a deadline. Even if it is the very last minute of the deadline (Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. Greg Giordano. Greg Giordano, thank you ).
Little is usually said of our contributors and since I will probably expire the moment this issue is printed, I feel
that gratitude should be given where it is due. Our contributors are the bulk of the zine's content and it's a
precious few who are able to overcome the self's ability to distract and produce true, quality material. This
month we introduce two new contributors, Tristram Kuntz and Jimm Gerstmann, whose works are integral,
I believe, to the feel of a Halloween issue. And as an added hobgoblin bonus, we have a brand new columnist,
Mr. Christopher Black, who will bring you plenty of Southern horror in EVERY forthcoming issue of
Hullaballoo.
And you thought Swanton was bad.
You hold in your hands the blood, sweat, and tears of our Hullaballoo life for the last two months. So, without
any Gothic pretensions, we really are going to retire to our coffins now.
Beth
P.S. send letters of sympathy
to Hullaballoo c/o the
Burlington City Morgue.
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