-------------------------------------- Editorial --------------------------------------
The nature of complicity is that of a boiled frog. The heat slowly rising as the water around you boils and you do not even notice so preoccupied with your own self you are. Perhaps such sentiment is a tad cynical. After all, we are good people, are we not?
One’s emotions are difficult to reconcile with. It takes practice, effort, will. Then come the questions of morality. Is it best for the world? For the relationship? For them? For them? What might the best be, in any case. To ask oneself such questions ad infinitum is, perhaps, at least a step in the right direction.
I do not want to see the world burn. I do not want to see hate spread. Best smother it in its cradle, though it is no longer an infant. Best pluck it by the roots. No, I only fear I have grown far to complicit to do what is necessary. Perhaps I fear that which is necessary.
Frogs, by all accounts, do not let themselves be boiled alive. They have a sense of self-preservation, and they certainly know when water is too hot for them.
No, truly. Frogs are not complicit in their own demise. They, however, have an easy choice to make.
------------------------------------ Art of London ------------------------------------
This War Of Ours
Part III
by Reinol von Lorica
Irvin Schmidt was a tall individual. Pale and blue eyed, with dark blonde hair and smooth features. His dark grey uniform contrasted with his bright features. The commander nodded and gestured for him to come over.
“I suppose you’ve heard of our assignment?” he inquired. To his side, a brown haired officer with dark eyes stared. Lieutenant Colonel Hans Meyer. While he never got along with the younger officer, he admired his sound head for tactics. Irvin however, was another matter entirely.
“Yes sir,” he replies. His thoughts wandered. Behind them, a flock of birds flew past the screens. Idly, he wondered what it would be like to fly like them. To be free and unidbidden by the duty that burdened him. Those thoughts are quashed by the words from the fourth officer who had joined their group.
“Those damn rebels really don’t know when to quit do they?”
Irvin said nothing, but Hans flinched at his harsh words. He always was a soft man. “Richter. Mind your words,” he lightly scolded. “We’re supposed to act professional.”
Captain Arnold Richter was anything but a professional man. His features were tanned and rugged from years of fighting, his dark hair cut short and his beard even shorter. The man scowled and folded his arms. “You know I’m right.”
A brief silence ensues. He supposed he was. The rebellion was far more fierce than what the government or the military had expected. So much so that the uprising had spread to the colonies.
Any reply he had in mind was soon cut off by the captain of the ship, who approached them, her bright eyes gleaming with amusement. “If you fine gentlemen would allow me to interrupt, we’re almost at port. I suggest getting your troops ready to disembark. We’re on a schedule.”
Irvin nods and gestures for the trio to get ready. “I will, captain,” he said nothing else, and it was clear they were dismissed. “Pardon me for cutting this short. We’ll talk again when we land.Get some breakfast while you still can.” Nods and ‘yes sirs’ were his reply, and soon they found themselves marching towards the corridor to the mess hall.
“And Fabian,” Irvin spoke. The lieutenant stops, startled by the older man’s call. “Try to get more rest.”
For a moment, Fabian von Lorica stood on the bridge, waiting for the colonel to say something else. But when no other words came, he sighed, and made his way to the mess hall. Partially to gather the troops and partially so that he could get some more sleep after a quick meal.
If he closed his eyes, he could still see the blasted wasteland of the fields.
--------------------------------- ~ * ~ * ~ Electorial News ~ * ~ * ~ ---------------------------------
Election 1898 Candidates Announced
Three prominent Londoners have announced their candidacy in the year 1898 Lord Mayoral elections. This year, something truly exceptional has happened. Perhaps we can thank Lord Mayor Virginia for opening the door for non-humans - whatever the case, the candidates are truly exquisite!
F. F. Gebrandt - a chemist and an academic, planning to build a palaeontological museum in London; her candidacy, of course, is in support of progress and the sciences.
The Viscountess of the Viric Jungle - an honourable cat candidate. As the first cat-candidate, she promises to protect the dreams of Londoners from the wiles of nightmares (and, perhaps, snakes).
The Tentacled Entrepreneur - a well-respected Rubbery candidate! The Entrepreneur is respected not only by other Rubberies but also by many humans. A businessrubbery to be sure, he has taken to liking the arts of not only humans, but also other Rubberies, and promises a Renaissance of Rubbery Culture!
Indeed, we are proud and excited beyond belief to announce that not one, but two candidates are of non-human disposition in this year’s election! With these candidacies comes a more diverse, and hopefully more just, London.
Elections proper are still two weeks away, and we patiently await to hear more of the candidates’ platforms! Do let us know what you think, London!
------------------------------- News of Art, Art of News -------------------------------
First Great Hellbound Railway Station - Ealing Garden One Train Closer!
The Great Hellbound Railway is making headway as the very first station opens its doors. Passing through the Ealing borough on the edge of London proper, this station signals great progress in this Hellbound venture.
Ealing, as some may know, has been out of the reach of London’s powers-that-be since the fall. Home to outcasts and criminals, it also houses the unwelcome Rubberies who form more welcome (though still suspicified) communities. The Tentacled Entrepreneur also has his first and largest factories there.
Seeing as Ealing is a more underprivileged part of London, yet still a part of London, the question becomes how this connection will affect life. With a train connecting this distant part from the centre of our city, perhaps business can prosper and life can become better. It is also left to see what the Great Hellbound Railway Board (on which the very Entrepreneur sits as a member) will act to possibly support Ealing.
While still under minor construction, trains should start running to and from Ealing Station in a few day’s time.
---------------------------------- Ask Mother Goose ----------------------------------
Dear Mother Goose,
Oh how I despise the thoughts. Cannot financing be a simpler matter?
Swamped
Dear Swamped,
Everything has its place and time. Perhaps consider waiting next time. Though, of waiting there has been enough. Perhaps, well, perhaps I can grant it just this once.
