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14th of July 1897


It is important to enjoy the little things. Listen to the wind’s whistle, observe the snail slowly slime, caress a flower’s gentle petals.
It can be a dreary world in the Neath. You might wish for the sunlight of the surface. Or you might enjoy the darkness. There are stances to be had, of course, but also a reality to face. It is dark, damp, cold, bitter. Yet it is ours.

Look at the glimmering side of life, London. The one showing you treasures, wonders, niceties, and joy. Hold the hand of those you love. Smile from ear to ear. Emotions fuel our art, and happiness creates the most beautiful art of all.

Do not be afraid to dream. Do not be afraid to be happy. Damned be all those who shun us for our joy, for they themselves lack it. Do not be afraid.

There is art everywhere in the world around us.

Art of London

House of Troubles, Part II
by Tuesday Next

The club was crowded, loud, and already full of the smell of alcohol and sweat. Eli had been in what felt like hundreds of places like this over the past few years, but this one was different. It wasn’t anything to do with the music or the decor and everything to do with who was there. He’d been watching the door as much as he could after the concert, and as far as he could tell, Martin had yet to leave. All he had to do now was find one man in a crowd of people, most if not all of them his fans. Easy, right?
Eli pushed through the crowd, straining to see if he could find that familiar face, when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned around, hoping, only to be met with a young woman, bright red hair hanging about her face.
“Hey,” she shouted over the music, “You’re him! You’re the Madgod, right?” She took his silent half-nod as confirmation–he supposed his face was that recognizable, especially with the butterfly–and continued, “Man, I’m, like, your biggest fan. ‘Mad, Bad, and Dangerous to Know’ totally changed my life. Can I get a selfie with you?” It was all Eli could do to keep from sighing. Yes, he’d wanted this life once, but now, after so many late nights and hearing the same fannish statements over and over again, it was getting stale. Eli put on his ‘smiling for the fans’ face and positioned himself next to the young woman long enough for her to pull out her phone. However, just as she was about to snap the picture, Eli finally saw Martin walking by.
“Sorry!” he said to the woman, “I have to go. There’s someone I’m supposed to meet…” It was only halfway a lie. He dashed off, leaving the fan with a blurred image of her idol, and chased after the familiar man. This time it was Eli’s turn to put a hand on someone else’s shoulder.
“Martin?” he asked, “That is you, right?” For a split second, he had a sudden doubt. What if he had been wrong? What if this was just someone who looked like his old friend? But his fears were abated as soon as the other man turned around, smiling. It was definitely him.
“Eli Bereth,” Martin said with a smile, “It’s good to see you again.”
“Why’re you here?” Eli asked. He vaguely remembered a conversation where Martin mentioned that he lived in this area, but that didn’t explain how he’d heard about the concert. The only advertising had been on the band’s social media, and far as Eli knew, The House of Troubles wasn’t exactly the sort of music that his friend usually listened to.
“One of my coworkers is a fan of yours,” Martin answered, “he told me about this show when I mentioned I knew you, and I thought I’d try to catch up.” Right at that moment, someone backed into Martin, almost sending him smack into Eli.
“Sorry!” the person yelled, then they looked at Eli, recognition dawning on their face. Eli called, “C’mon,” to Martin and walked away, to a different area of the club. The fans were inescapable, it seemed.
“This isn’t the best place for talking, is it?” Martin commented, “C’mon, let’s go somewhere else. I can’t hear myself think in places like this.” Eli, who was used to not being able to hear himself think, nodded. It was an impulsive decision, sure, and really he should’ve stayed at the club, but what was life without adventure? God knows he needed a moment of escape.
“Go ahead,” he told Martin, “I’m gonna get this shit off my face.” It would take a moment, but it’d be infinitely more convenient to go out without the butterfly. Besides, for the rest of the night, he was going to be Eli, not the Madgod.

News of Art, Art of News

Mayoral Elections Are Upon Us – Candidates Revealed! Vote For Change!

The Mayoral Elections are here once again, dear London! We now know all of our candidates; the business woman, Mrs Plenty; the deviless scholar, Virginia; the famed medium, Madame Shoshana. We at the Gazette are excited beyond belief to report on the on goings of the election. While we do plan on staying apolitical, we also believe that engaging in your local government is one of the most important a citizen can attend to. Vote for change you want to see, London! Vote for what you think is best.
From our point of view, all the candidates are known lovers of art, thus the choice indeed boils down to policies. Let us see what sorts of campaigns they will lead!
As the elections are only starting, we at the Gazette are running a popularity poll. Vote for your favoured candidate! The results shall be published with the next edition!

Please, vote!

Ask Mother Goose

Dear Mother Goose,
I feel as if in a web I have spun for myself.

Dear Cornered,
We catch ourselves in the strangest things. It is then up to us to create a way out. As slow as it may be.


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