Cuts aren’t easy, but they are often necessary – like a violent, visceral pruning (a pruning, sometimes by secateurs, and sometimes, say, by the warm lick of a flame). But the reality is that our operation could not go on in the fashion it had for so long.
Cuts, like fire, are a kind of rebirth. As was true of the phoenix in times of yore, it was foretold by every prescient, ancient mind that a print publication that undergoes a terrible, terrible blaze will arise from its ashes undoubtedly stronger and with less content liable to be found on the front cover of those DISGUSTING FUCKING TABLOIDS.
While, as a catalyst of rebirth, a horrible fire is useful, so too can it be an opportunity for reimagining. We need to take positive steps forward or our piteous trauma will be in vain.
It is for this reason that the human resources department, along with what remains of our board of directors, have vowed to tighten every extreanous bit of give that’s to be milked from the fountain nibs of this institution.
‘Less done better’ is The Garter’s mantra—or if it wasn’t before, it is now, because dissent from our editorial line, unlike the illustrious, crimson waratah, or brilliant orange myth-bird, is not something that will again arise from the modest pile of dust that remains in the wake of hideous destruction and death.
The future of print media is to have fewer reliable (and incidentally pro-broadsheet) editors and reporters writing more.
To demonstrate our commitment to sustainability and longevity, The Garter will, in the coming weeks, be introducing a host of new measures aimed at revealing the exciting future of the publication.
If the universe had had its way, those this-week-fired would have been slain in the splendid, LITERAL, fires of change. Figuratively speaking, of course.