Any Direction

Well that about wraps it up for March and with it the end of 2012 quarter 1. How time flies eh? I’m still trying to acclimatise to the “weather” that’s been assailing the country of late. Temperatures are rocketing their way into the low twenties, my face is starting to melt and I’m still suffering from the institutionalised jet-lag of the clocks going forward. Apparently the UK’s heading towards drought and hose-pipe bans again, there’s panic buying in a farcical petrolocalypse, pasties are becoming subject to VAT, a former contestant from Celebrity Big Brother has just been elected to parliament. The very fabric of the country is beginning to tear and rupture as we spiral out control towards oblivion. And all the while the puppet masters of our minority government dance about in their pants quaffing caviare and singing about how great it is to be fabulously wealthy and that the poor should stop complain and do the decent thing and just roll over and die. By and large, things progress onwards much like every other month in recent memory. I suppose I should be thankful for the familiarity, even if it’s less than comforting. On the subject of familiarity it’s the end of the month, another pictonaut wraps up. There’s things to be read. Hop to it.

When I first saw “Any Direction” it invoked emotions of beauty and awe. I thought it was quite pretty. Those I’ve talked to agree. This has left me quite surprised at just how dark this months wordascopes are. And there not just a little dark, were talking seriously dark here. So dark that a dyed in the wool, full-blooded Goth straight out of Stereotype Town would look at this darkness and go “Woah, steady on mate. That’s a bit much isn’t it?” I had fun writing this month’s wordascope, even if it was a bit of a mare to polish off and finish. It’s pretty short too, only clocking in at about 850 words, but they’re good words. There’s a simple joy to be gained in writing hardcore, completely out there sci-fi. It’s the kind of thing that gets under your skin and all mixed up in your brain-meat. You starting dreaming of things far beyond our modern understanding, of strange new worlds and technological terms that don’t even make the slightest bit of sense but sound great all the same. Half way through writing this I decided to go and starting reading some Iain M. Banks again. He does good sci-fi and I needed a fix. I needed a fix bad. This month we welcome a new pictonaut into our exalted ranks, my good friend Lady Tonksington Smythe (Not her real name [not even the correct pseudonym]) decided to have a bash at it. I hope she’ll find the time to join in again in future months. Without further ado I give you the links to this month’s offerings.

Ali George – Woe be unto you the end times have cometh…

Tonks‘ – Space is the bestest of drugs.

The Rogue Verbumancer – The end justifies the means.

Remember to check back again tomorrow for the start of April’s Pictonaut Challenge.

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About The Rogue Verbumancer

A chemistry graduate consumed by the demons of apathy and disinterest. Likes tea and cheese. Sleeps less than he should. View all posts by The Rogue Verbumancer

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