It was 1988, and things were pretty boring. 
     I was working a midnight-to-eight-AM shift in a consulting firm 
putting together marketing reports helping banks to make more money by 
recommending outrageous fees to their clients, and telling hospitals that 
the way to make bucks was to have their doctors recommend that more 
patients seek hospital care. Very disillusioning. It was literally a hell 
of a living. I figured I could use the time to write letters to family 
and friends; however, the idea of writing the same thing repeatedly 
seemed ludicrous to me. The idea of a form letter struck me as much 
worse. I decided to put together a newsletter.
     Most of the stories were about me and my life in New York, and were 
written in a decidedly facetious tone. To reflect this tabloid 
sensibility, as well as the humor instilled in me after ten long years of 
Catholic school, the newsletter was named Inquisitor. I worked night 
after night, using Pagemaker and the office Xerox machine, and finally 
mailed out copies to most everyone I knew. When people I did not know 
asked my friends for copies, I realized that Inquisitor was destined to 
continue.
     From 1991 to 1993 I was back in school and Inquisitor was put aside. 
I was studying interactive telecommunications and wanted to start up a
newsletter on that subject as well. Logic told me that such a newsletter
should be "electronic"; faced with the options available, namely ASCII
text or Postscript files, I decided to look at it as a design problem. 
The equation comprising (not in any order): The desire to reach as many
people as possible as easily as possible; the need to avoid
platform-specific software; the need to meet certain design and
typographic standards; the total avoidance of any medium that has as a
prerequisite great outlays of cash; the necessity of the interface to not
override the content. The answer? Paper. This is not meant to denigrate
any e-zine out there. For Inquisitor, the answer, for now, is paper. 
     In March of 1993, I was back at the Xerox machine, trying to put out 
a 32-page zine, having by this time combined Inquisitor with Networker. 
Despite a favorable review in Factsheet Five and a good reception by 
distributors, the Xerox route was daunting and totally dependent on a 
friend's office machine. I needed to make the leap to offset, and by 
summer's end had saved up enough money--all the while dealing with scores 
of printers trying to find one who spoke electronic file-to-plate with no 
hemming or hawing. My perseverence paid off; I found a printer who took 
my Syquest cartridge and not too long after shipped Volume I, Issue 1 of 
the re-re-redesigned Inquisitor. 
     And here we are.
     To sum up what is Inquisitor, I would say the logical end result of 
the soupification of various  media, art, culture, and technology. Not in 
a cyberpunk-axcess-mondo way. In a matter-of-fact- down-to-earth way. No 
hype. No glitz. No unnecessary interface. Content dense. Informative. 
With many fragmented sentences. And tongue still firmly planted in cheek.
     And now it is your turn. We want to hear from you, any and all 
feedback is appreciated. Email: inquisitor@echonyc.com. Gopher: 
echonyc.com. Snail mail: Post Office Box 132, New York, New York, 
10024-0132. Fax: 212-595-8370. Let us know what you think.
     Yours inquisitively--
     Dany

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