We haven’t yet met, so I hope you won’t find me too forward in saying that I have the highest expectations of you. It is my sincerest wish that by this time next year I won’t want to make like Mrs. O’Leary’s cow and set you on effing FIRE.
Oh, I’m not worried about you and my merry band of feisty Rebelles. I already know that we’re going to continue to kick all kinds of ass with one-of-a-kind feminist coverage of comedy, arts, culture, news, politics and shenanigans in Chicago and beyond. In the murky depths of my editor crystal ball, I see essays, stories and articles that will make our readers laugh, cry, do that weird laugh-cry thing that’s only attractive in movies and feel, overall, that they are less alone in this messed-up world we live in. We here at Rebellious Magazine, 2018, are gonna be just fine.
It’s everything else I’m worried about.
See, your predecessor 2017 was, hmmm…how do I say this without scaring you? Kind of just a touch TOTALLY FUCKED UP. I won’t get into the gory details but MeTooRoyMooreHarveyWeinsteinComeyCharlottesvilleRickettsOMGTRUMP, but suffice it to say that we’re all counting on you to not suck.
No pressure, totally not a big deal, but we need you to turn Congress over to the Democrats, see that the president is impeached, jailed or – bonus! – both, install women in our rightful place as the rulers of just about everything and boot every sexual predator anywhere from any kind of position of power. And by “position of power,” I mean anywhere they can prey upon, insult, harass, assault, demean or make life unpleasant for People Not Like Them, including Congress, newsrooms, film sets, board rooms, street corners, CTA buses, hotels, bars, malls, day care centers…you get the picture.
I would also very much enjoy more love and support for independent media in general and feminist outlets in particular. And pants that fit perfectly without having to be tried on inside dehumanizing dressing rooms of doom.
Again, 2018, no pressure. Just know that we’re all counting on you.
To NOT SUCK.