Editorial
Love and hate drive the world. They spin its axes, fuel its light, rally its people. Such horrors we commit in the name of love, such good we try to bring to the world though our hearts are filled with hate. Oh how different the world would be without passion – for better or for worse, I dare not judge, yet different nonetheless.
Passion, paradoxically, needs calm nerves to carry out its ends. Little will be achieved through passion lacking thought, or – at least – the required skill. Only a fool cuts with a dull dagger, or worse, dull words. Passion, no, it is not an eruption. It boils one from deep within, it grabs the hold of one’s flesh and bones and very soul. It seeps into one’s thoughts and plans and pains. Once passion becomes existence, it burns bright as any star.
What, then, would be the antonym to passion? Apathy, in its depressed blandness, stands in the way of none. To combat passion, to truly defy it, one needs patience as solid as their opponents; skill as sharpened; [REDACTED] as deep. There is truth in-
[Oh, dear. It appears the next several paragraphs have frozen over. You cannot make out a single letter, save for a few words at the end.]
-and then, to sow Discord.
Art of London
Neathy Arcana
by The Ranine Illustrator
News of Art, Art of News
Clay Highwayman Still At Large
With all the wonder and ingenious progress that the Great Hellbound Railway brings to London and her people, the westward Hinterlands are undoubtedly a dangerous place. For one, there is no shortage of bandits keen on robbing those that venture this way. The most notorious of these is the fabled Clay Highwayman. Said to be a Clay Man of great stature, riding on a Clay Beast, he is the leader of a fierce band of robbers.
Importantly, with the Hinterlands being a vast and dangerous place, the Clay Highwayman only ever been spotted, never coming close to being caught. Nonetheless, rumour has it that his band has recently taken to larceny without their leader. With the Highwayman’s name on their lips and his colours on their coats, their leader is nowhere to be seen. According to some sources, even the Clay Beast had been spotted, in its usual rider’s place a common thug.
There are many theories as to the Clay Highwayman’s disappearance. Some say he has ventured to Hell itself, to mark his body with fiery words and twisted laws. Some claim he has fallen ill, his body turned to nothing more than plaster. There are those who swear to have seen an imposing figure aboard a steamer, headed for Polythreme – perhaps to rally an army of Clay. Others, still, insist he had passed, or at least disappeared, without as much as a farewell to the world.
Whatever the case may be, it seems that even without his presence, his spirit lives on amongst his troupe.
The GHR would like to assure passengers that travel by trains remains safe, and for the duration of the next month will be offering discounts on insurance against railway robbery.
Ask Mother Goose
Dear Mother Goose,
Does it not feel good, to finally return?
Yearning
Dear Yearning,
I have not been this giddy for centuries! Truly shows what time does to one’s passion.
gooseygazette.art.blog 