During this magazines rise from obscurity, there has been some debate and much misunderstanding concerning its title. Many readers and commentators profess to abhor it. Even one of our own writers has urged us to consider replacing it with something less wanky. Confusion has been added by our sub-heading, Strange and Dedicated Magazine; it has led some to refer to us, erroneously, as S&D Magazine, and also caused Ed Salt in DWM to make the elementary mistake ...hence the title. Wrong. As anyone who read issue 2s editorial should have known, the title came first; its acronymical apologia was a belated, and possibly misguided, sop to those who felt uncomfortable with it.
SAD Magazine was originally no more than a pun on Americas favourite satirical effort, MAD Magazine - indeed, there is (coincidentally) at least one other magazine on the internet going by the name. But in the context to which it was applied, the name conjures up so much more, plumbing a rich seam of semiotic thickness. In line with their insane ambitions for the fanzine, the editors wanted a title which would be timeless, universal, not tied to Doctor Who, representative of both the mags contents and its audience, and vaguely humorous. It was, they contend, the only monicker to fit the bill.
Over the last ten years or so, fandom has entered a new era; one might call it the post-tragic era. This is the age of the menk, the fan who has grown up with his obsessions, rather than out of them, and lives at peace with the world of non-believers and content in his sadness. Fittingly, the menks relationship to the text is at once as complex as a kiss and as simple as a smack in the mouth: Oddly fond, but also mocking bits, as Paul Cornell wisely said. Along similar lines - if less poetic - was the SAD editorial teams expressed intention in issue 2 of coming to praise Doctor Who, and to bury it.
We see our audience as we see ourselves: benign parasites, feeding off the text; masticating lovingly on its juices and then regurgitating them in a techicolour yawn of delight. Surprisingly, this enlightened view of its followers is buried within the phrase Cult TV, so often used as a rod with which to beat us. The dictionary definition of cult clarifies the term: Any television programme to which devotion or homage is paid - in other words, television which is not just passively consumed, but experienced. Post-tragic fandom is a self-contained, self-perpetuating orgy of mutual pleasure, where the menk repays the bread-and-butter work of hacks with his heartfelt devotion and homage.
Devotion is not too strong a word to describe ones fannishness - if youre doing it properly. We shouldnt be afraid of such a label; rather we should follow the example of the one and only Darth Vader. When that sneery bloke in Star Wars summed up Vaders faith in the force as his sad devotion to that ancient creed, the Sith Lord quickly proved him wrong, by making his neck go all wobbly. We at SAD share Vaders impatience with non-believers, and that is why we rejoice in our own SAD devotion.
Id like to end this tract by discussing homage. This practice lies yet one step further on, requiring a more creative, interactive appreciation of the text. We are obviously still working on that. But look around fandom at large and see how noted fans of all persuasions have infiltrated the real world of proper people. The successful Visual Imagination publishing group is largely staffed by ex-DWAS bods, and Dreamwatchs Gary Leighvy is following in their trail. More impressive still are the achievements of the new menky mafia: Cornell had his CITV drama, Wavelength; Gareth, Lance and Rebecca are tightening their grip on Emmerdale, and seem to be trying to turn it into a kind of Coronation Farm; Russell T Davies and Matt Jones are the creative powerhouse behind the most innovative drama of recent years; Steven Moffat, and now Mark Gattis, have worked similar wonders in the world of comedy. The list goes on. No-one can doubt that the future is ours!
And only by backing SAD Magazine can you be assured of your rightful place, somewhere on the fringes of that future, feeling slightly left out and gittish.
Article Text © 1998/2003 the respective author(s). All other text © Rob Morris / SAD Magazine. Design © Rob Morris 1999/2003. No reproduction of material in whole or in part may be undertaken without permission of the copyright holders.