Editorial - Issue Four: Underground [Grapeshot Magazine]

I don’t know about you, but I’m not into believing without seeing. I don’t believe in blind dates. I’m not religious. And I certainly don’t advocate buying any kind of attire without having first tried it on. In fact, I’m not even sure if I believe that Osama bin Laden is dead. The proof is meant to be in the pudding, but I haven’t seen any pudding.

Most of the time too, the things that you can’t see, you don’t want to know about anyway. Smelly bottom emissions. Bad breath. Germs. No surprises then that this issue of Grapeshot Magazine definitely pushed my beliefs and ruffled my feathers. Just like the rest of those things you can’t see, most of what you find ‘Underground’ and under our feet is grubby, gross and better left undisturbed. Dead bodies. Worms. Sewerage. No thank you.

But, as always, the creative juices of our faithful contributors pleasantly surprised me. No, I don’t think that does them justice. I wasn’t just pleasantly surprised, I was rapturous! And so, our pages are bursting with stories of drag queens, cemeteries, illegal substances, vampires, catacombs, leeches and other morsels underground and underground.

Adrian Chen encourages us to face the real facts about the so-called ‘War on Drugs’ – a war that, if he is to be believed, the Australian government is losing miserably. His solution? The legalisation of illicit substances.

And have you ever wondered where the sequin-laden, make-up loving, high heel-adorning drag queens of the 1980s have disappeared to? Alex Pittaway introduces us to Mitzi Macintosh, a retired Sydney drag queen who reminisces about days gone by, costumes since hung up and the disease that may have kept that uniquely Australian underground culture afloat all along.

Shayaan Malik lifts us up and out of the underground and catapults us 30,000 metres aboveground. She gives a nostalgic account of all those things we love about airplane travel. Queues. Lost luggage. Turbulence. Chatty neighbours. But we’re also reminded that, without the bad, a whole lot of good is forfeited.

I wish I could give you a little taste of all the treats that are in store for you as you turn the pages, but some things really do need to be dug up and discovered for yourself.