Don't read this 'zine if you're easily offended. I mean I'm not out to shock anyone, you won't find any recipes for broiled infant in here (unless someone stuck in an Easter Egg without me noticing), I just don't want to spoon feed readers disclaimers every other sentence. Consider this your last warning.
If you see something in here you don't like, don't complain to the nice folks who distribute our print copy, don't write nasty letters to Geocities. Don't.
If you hate this that much, and I'm sure that someone will hate this THAT MUCH, e-mail me. I love angry letters to the editor, they're so fucking impotent. Hell, I might even PRINT your letter....
But if you're one of those sad, sad people who get all in a tizzy about seeing the word "fuck", stop soiling this thing with your damned dity hands and leave us alone, Goddammit!! Honestly you people, God hates you almost as much as He hates squirrels and Hippies!!
Sigh.... Here's the important part.
At some point in the last year I came to a number of philosophical decisions. Most of them have absolutely no bearing whatsoever on this 'zine, but a few do. These philosophies (I hesitate to use the word philosophy, it wreaks of a kind of hubris, but it seems to be the most appropriate word) form the basis of RQ.
So, at long last, let me explain what you are now reading. Welcome to Rogues' Quarterly, we here at the Quarterly believe that you have the Inallienable Human Right to be Really Pissed Off. About pretty much anything. And that there really aren't too many ways of coping with that sort of thing in polite society that don't involve jail time. We figure that if you vent all that outrage, creative destruction, and negative emotion you have into the written form of a 'zine you're less likely to start cats on fire. So please, get it off your chest. Let it out, and if it's good enough, smart enough, or sick-cool enough, we may just print it (and if it's not, we may print it anyway, we need the material). To submit a piece e-mail me (Mr. Gregg Narows at NarowEscape@Hotmail.com), and watch the fun!
Love and Fritos,
-Mr. Gregg Narows
P.S. Leave those cats alone, dammit!!
