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    <td width="215%" align="center" height="105" valign="top"><p align="left"><u><strong>COLUMN</strong></u></p>
    <p align="center"><big><big><big><strong>From the Editor</strong></big></big></big></p>
    <font SIZE="2"><p align="left"></font><font size="3">As is the case when walking down one
    of the lengthy corridors within the labyrinth of darkness, you get a case of tunnel
    vision. Then, when you least expect it, you come upon a room that is so expansive you
    believe it has to be the universe as a whole. As a writer and editor for AT this is what I
    had experienced. I realized I was beginning to rehash old material. More articles on
    death, more articles on nihilism, more articles on occultism, more articles on atrocity
    after atrocity, and more articles on conspiracy theories. It all seemed to be revolving
    around just a few subjects. Sure, I know I still had vampires, blood thirst, gothdom, and
    fetishes to toss into the mix, but even they seemed limited, limited by my own personal
    knowledge.</p>
    <p align="left">And then, in a brief moment, or over a weekend (it is all relative) a
    blinding insight strikes. I am thrust into a wide expansive cavern. Suddenly I am
    overwhelmed with subject matter. I went to a local theater, <a
    href="http://www.musicboxtheatre.com/" target="_blank">The Music Box</a> (pop over to
    their website and read about the ghost that haunts it), to see the European version of <em>Brazil</em>,
    the Terry Gilliam movie. After my two hours of pure enjoyment, the muse struck me. Or
    perhaps the ghost gave me inspiration. Either way, I was awakened to Dystopia. A whole
    genre of darkness that for some reason I was being blinded to. Call it tunnel vision. As I
    mulled over the idea, the wealth of ideas just from this one topic was incredible. Books
    and movies to be reviewed, stories to be written, articles to request, and cool new
    features that could be spawned all rushed around me like swarming bees.</p>
    <p align="left">With the scales removed from my eyes, my head filled with dystopic dreams,
    I continued to enjoy my weekend. Another theater, more movies <em>Rushmore</em>, <em>Payback</em>,
    and <em>Reservoir Dogs</em> and more ideas. Film noir and crime drama have been a source
    of darkness for many people for a very long time. Again, my mind danced with joy as I
    rediscovered a source of darkness that, for some reason, I had not been seeing. These
    discoveries have helped revitalize my interest. So many new directions to explore, to
    learn about. </p>
    <p align="left">That is what this is all about, this &#145;journal of the darkness&#146;.
    It is about learning about what can&#146;t be easily seen. It is about looking into
    ourselves, our neighbors, our community to see the sweet ichor of darkness that lingers
    behind the hearts. </p>
    <p align="left">July&#146;s issue was a fun one to put together. Summer is here and to be
    quite honest, dwelling on issue of the dark when the sun is up from 5 am to 9 pm is
    difficult. I want to be at the beach, cooking on a grill outside, going to the zoo,
    feeding ducks, hiking, camping, flying kites, lounging in the park, well, you get the
    idea. Sitting in my tiny apartment writing, editing, correcting my spelling, looking up
    grammar rules in my grammar guide, contemplating death, holocausts, conspiracies, and
    sacrifices makes for very depressing days. So why would this issue, developed over the
    first few weeks of summer, be a fun one to put together? I guess it is because I really
    threw myself into the work. Instead of being a passive observer of the darkness, I threw
    myself into the pits and wallowed. Going to clubs to hear new music (and old favorites),
    making an effort to see every movie out that even remotely touches on the issue of
    darkness, plays and poetry readings, and visits to the zoo and park. Okay the last part
    really doesn&#146;t add to the schematic of darkness, but without bright sunny days eating
    cold chicken and drinking wine, how are we to appreciate the dark?</p>
    <p align="left">Within July&#146;s issue, Dan Swensen once again graces our pages with his
    talent and skill. Our Technocracy Watchdog group dissects Walt Disney, the goliath of the
    entertainment world.&nbsp; We have our usual hodge-podge of reviews collected haphazardly
    from the whatever can be scaped together at the last minute. Silestra's calendar has been
    removed due to the fact it didn't get enough page view time.</p>
    <p align="left">As always, we are actively seeking submissions. If you have poetry,
    essays, artwork, reviews, articles, or stories that deal with the dark in some fashion, or
    are dark in and of themselves, we would be very eager to see it. And what do you get in
    return? Recognition, your own little biography box with your very own links section to
    increase your fame, which as we all know is just one step away from fortune. </font></p>
    <p align="left"><font size="3">Our Watch List:</font></p>
    <p align="left"><font size="3">The Haunting, Eyes Wide Shut, and Legend of Sleepy Hollow.
    &nbsp; If you have anything you want to write about any of these topics for us, we'd be
    much obliged.</font></td>
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