THIS ISSUE, NUMBER SIX, MARKS the half-way point for FM this semester and the quarter-mile mark of our year-long haul. It has been six weeks, six issues, over a dozen production nights, a handful of hissy fits and two all-nighters. So far, we're holding up alright. But I fear this moment may just come and go--no slideshow, no reminiscing, scarcely a celebratory bottle of brew. It's not that we're not nostalgic--it just seems that we don't have many classic moments.

Because they were so famously gutsy, the FM executive board of 1992 have a lot of wild memories. Phil Rubin, then magazine co-editor, remembers the time he went to a chintzy hotel lounge in Dedham for a singles' mixer party. He and his companion were hunting down material for that week's Scrutiny. He recalls, "After partying with the singles, then we returned, marching through the snow. We came back to The Crimson and wrote it the same night. Drunk."

I am happy to report that the reckless journalistic spirit has not completely left the magazine Rubin dubbed "Fifteen Minutes" back in 1992. This week the editors have abandoned the Scrutiny format and injected several gonzo reports from the booze beat. Issue six sends two writers to "Who's On First?," the skuzziest meet market we could locate. I think Phil Rubin would approve.

Even the executives decided to let things slide a bit recently. Last Saturday night, several FMers managed to wander away from 14 Plympton St. They headed toward a Central Square venue of recreational inebriation and for several consecutive hours not an e-mail account was checked, not a story re-edited. In the end, nobody returned to the building to write an account of the evening. Thank goodness.

Mr. Rubin, if you're reading this, thank you for writing a Scrutiny while totally blitzed. You've set quite an example. While we are not as irresponsible as you were, we're trying. So, Phil Rubin--our inspiration for risk taking magazine making--this issue is for you.