As I begin this month’s letter to you, Dear Readers, it’s 26 degrees outside on the tail end of this historic winter storm, in a January that has felt agonizingly endless. We didn’t get but three hours into 2025 before everything went to hell with the Bourbon Street massacre. Mere weeks later, we’re out building snowmen and watching in wonder as icicles form on our awnings. I’m sure for a lot of you the blizzard was a pleasant distraction from the indignities of the inauguration and a return to an even more supersized news cycle and chaos government.
Amidst it all, there’s a common theme of tactical retreat, of unplugging a little and refocusing on our immediate surroundings and inner circle. As your EIC, I don’t really have the luxury of turning away from the buzzsaw news cycle, but I am heartened when I step back and really take in the web of community and relationships that ANTIGRAVITY has formed over the decades. Of course there is our ultra-talented and dedicated editorial corps, and the dozens of regular contributors—writers, photographers, illustrators, transcriptionists, distro team, and such—who put their heart and soul into their work every month. And though your team of editors works diligently on every issue to make sure all the rough edges are sanded down, it’s still important to us that the voices represented in these pages be as unfiltered as possible. That’s partly why we grant semi-autonomous pages to organizations like MaCCNO and Jane Place, who can speak directly on their areas of expertise. We’re also doing what we can to find a place for your voice. We feature public comments in our For The Record column not only to showcase and encourage civic involvement, but in gratitude to the people who take time out of their lives to speak directly to their elected representatives. And of course we’re always looking for reader contributions for our Close Encounters column, as well as a return to publishing an advice column (by a professional this time!), among the other columns that solicit questions and contributions. The core mission throughout is always to let you know, ye of bold heart and freakish thoughts, deep compassion and boundless creativity, that you are not alone.
I also appreciate those who take the time to write us in response to some of our content, not only with accolades and gratitude for what we do, but with grievances as well. One such visitor to New Orleans recently wrote to us, “I respect a variety of opinions and our country’s freedoms that allow such material to be made available but still find such trash troubling.” I couldn’t have said it better myself.
I would be remiss if I didn’t include our advertisers in this round of appreciation for the AG community. As you’ll see flipping through our pages, the vast majority of them are local and independent, trying to survive as much as we are. I’m not saying we wouldn’t take Live Nation’s money, but it’s nice to know we don’t have to. Please support the businesses featured in our pages, who in turn support us, and in turn we do our best to support you. It truly is a cycle of life and one increasingly crucial to keep healthy and churning as everything disintegrates around us under the weight of politicized incompetence and bigotry.
I’ll conclude with the wish that we all have a happy and safe Carnival season. Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to perform at least one Mardi Gras mitzvah. Help a reveler in distress, let someone through your blockade, offer refreshment to the famished, exercise a touch of grace in traffic, catch a prized throw and give it to the nearest kid, succumb to the universe when your plans inevitably fail. Do whatever you can to ease the tension and dark energy that always descends on New Orleans during this time (perhaps more this year than ever before). We’re all we got. —Dan Fox
illustration by Laura Frizzell
February 2025 cover by Maegen Guidroz.
