Founding Editor's Letter

The Future. The Future. The capital F future everyone and their mother is concerned with at all times. To me, she (the future is female!) is a big cloud I can see across my window, somewhere across the Hudson hovering over Jersey, closer to my little stake on Manhattan every time I look out of it. She’s huge, hex color #627177 toned, chaotic monster of a cloud with either acid rain or powdery white snow in store for us. And sometimes, not even the best of the freaking best weather app can tell me what it’s going to be before I leave the door so I know if I need some extra protection that day.

We try to build weather apps to tell us what’s going to happen, exactly when whatever is going to happen will happen, and for exactly how long it will last. We also try to shield ourselves from the future by creating all kinds of umbrellas and raincoats to keep whatever’s coming away, because who wants to get drenched?

I’ve realized that sometimes it is absolutely 200% necessary to get so caught out in the rain that after awhile you give up trying to maintain some semblance of dryness and just have fun basically taking a shower, in the middle of the street, with all your clothes on. It’s coming, some way or the other. If three days ago I managed to grab my umbrella before running out the door and kept my hydrophobic Birkenstocks miraculously dry, the joy from that will only last so long before I somehow get splashed by a too-fast car turning a corner. Perhaps this is the long lost cousin of karma.

It will rain, and it will snow, and it will hail. But would you rather fret endlessly about forgetting your raincoat or just accept it, and try to remember for next time? I myself am guilty of perpetually worrying about what’s going to happen next. Whether it’s waiting for a big test to be graded, my report card web page to load, a package to come in the mail, or the classic first semester senior college question, something about the future is most likely stressing me out. And it’s okay. I cannot avoid December 15th, when the college I apply early to will reply back to me. I also cannot avoid getting tests back. It will happen. And instead of worrying, just accept it and deal with it when it happens.

This issue of Retrograde is almost contradictory to everything I just said - it discusses the future, and asks the Pandora’s box of a question of where will we be in five years. As I said in my Retrograde 1. 2 editor’s letter, Retrograde is like a function to deal with the chaos life brings us. In this case, Retrograde 1.4 is taking in the cloud inching across the Hudson right to me, and trying its best to optimize the outcome and just find a way to deal with that nagging concern of the future. I hope flipping through these pages helps that #thefutureisfemale cloud become more aesthetically pleasing and #EDEDED toned for you.

Isha Chirimar