I remember thinking two things when I picked up The BEAST’s very first issue back in June of 2002: one, that it was the greatest thing I had ever seen, and two, that it would never last. Even after taking the helm for issue 39 as the paper’s fourth chief editor a year and a half later, I never imagined that I’d still be doing this 61 issues later. It’s a testament to the enduring tenacity of this most callous of all publications, as well as my own legendary inertia.

There are a lot of stories I could tell about my tenure here, but that would be work. Instead, I have concocted a devious plan to celebrate our 100th issue: contact the former editors and get them to write “retrospective” pieces for free, while I take a long-deserved break from my usual content-generating duties. That’s why you’ll find articles from former BEAST brethren Matt Taibbi, Paul Salamone and Chris Riordan in this issue, each recalling his BEASTly days in his own inimitable style.

For me, The BEAST has been a simultaneously wonderful and horrible experience. I’ve enjoyed the notoriety, the camaraderie of my fellow miscreants, the unexpected praise, and the automatic inspiration that comes with deadline pressure. On the other hand, there’s the absurd workload, the poverty, threats of violence, and the gradually accumulating combination of sleep deprivation and outrage fatigue. I’ve tried my best, along with the indispensable Ian Murphy, recent arrival Paul Jones, and many other miscreants to provide you with a paper that is, at the least, unlike any other in America, one that will inform you, provoke you, or just crack you the hell up. No doubt exists in my mind that the experience has been worthwhile. I hope you, dear reader, agree. Carry on.

--Al Uthman