2013 Edition 1 Editorial27 February 2013
Welcome to Farrago.
The magazine that cares about freeloading and federal politics, loser cowboys and high ‘cultcha’ in equal measure. This first edition was made with the very special kind of crazy that’s bred upon by being locked out of your office at a crucial moment in a print production cycle. But we survived, and we hope you enjoy the talent and work of the writers and artists within. Read on first hipsters being sliced open, reflections on feminism in India and super-rich mining kids—as well as info on that whole O-Week thing. We hope you find something to amuse you as you start to Dream Large for another year. Contact us if you want to get involved. We like scamming off your talent (and we’re pretty nice too).
My eyes feel like they’re hanging from storks, and my boyfriend told me that that if I said the word ‘magazine’ one more time, he was going to vomit. Like some childish chant, everything in recent memory has seemed to be ‘for the good of Farrago’. Nonetheless, I’m excited. I’m so thrilled to have this opportunity, and so proud of the end result. Student media has this reputation as a kind of idiot sibling of the actual media. And despite the fact I currently feel idiotic with sleep deprivation, I feel like we’re more a motley collection of the brilliant and the confused. There is so much talent within these glossy pages, and so much space for new voices. Whether you’re brilliant, or just confused by my ramblings, you should get in touch and get involved. Now, a final note to my downtrodden boyfriend—look at this fucking magazine I made!
Edition 1 was made with the help of David Hasselhoff’s dulcet tones, the power of chocolate cake and the patience of those who watched us make massive mistakes and then bought us fast food to reconcile the screwups. Hopefully the following pieces stave off public transport boredom, and make you wildly envious of the talented folk who have let us use their words on our pages.
I feel so lucky and sleepy to have completed the first one, so thanks to all who helped out. If you even have an inkling that you need Farrago or it needs you, get in touch. We like making friends who are good at things, and those who trip over lots too.
This magazine that you hold in your hands is very precious to me, like a baby that I’m terrified of dropping on its head. This first edition is the product of two months of the frustration, elation and love of a team that I am so proud to be a part of. We are so privileged to publish such amazing student work, and I am so excited to bring it to you.
Farrago is more than just a magazine, it’s Media Collective meetings, launch parties, our website, and Above Water, our creative writing anthology. Be on the lookout for Wordplay events and podcasts too as we expand the Farrago family.
Most of all Farrago is heaps of fun, so come and say hello, send us your words, your art and your love and we promise to give you more Farrago-love in return.
I’ve been told that instead of apologising for your failings you should thank people for accepting them. So instead of saying sorry to my friends and family for only having seen them for twenty minutes over the past month I’ll say thanks for letting me spend those twenty minutes talking about Farrago. Instead of apologising to Thom for turning our date on Saturday night into an impromptu proofreading sessions, I’ll say thanks for finding all those errors…and for feeding me…and for still talking to me…
Farrago is one VERY hungry caterpillar. It devoured my sleeping patterns, my conversational ability, and most of the other stuff that made me function. But now, after chowing down on my life, it has emerged from its InDesign cocoon as a beautiful wordy butterfly. In this respect I have no apologies for you, Farrago readers, only thanks for picking this up and reading it.
All of the thanks
Thank you to the writers and artists who came out of summer slumbers to kick off this edition, and to our wonderful sub-eds for working, conferencing and drinking with us. To Vicky and Scott for popping in and smiling, and especially to Max Denton for appearing when we needed him most to make sure we hadn’t fucked too much up. To the inventor of the slurpee and ceiling fans and to Tony Abbott’s highly collage-able face (might staring be his greatest strength?). To our lovely Students’ Councillor for all her hard work. And of course to our family, friends and housemates who didn’t believe us when we said Farrago would us boring. We’ll stop talking about text boxes in December.