Today’s public service announcement is brought to you by, well, ME. As someone perpetually not arsed to do the things I should be doing I’m always happy to find something completely effort free that’s also undeniably a good thing. Like signing up to give my decaying innards away upon my untimely death in a fist fight with a dozen small monkeys.
Registering to give your bits over to the NHS, so they can save some poor sods life when you’ve lost yours, is the work of a few minutes. For them though it’s a whole lifetime. Simple enough right? So I’ll stop at that before I go all BBC charity appeal and start posting pictures of starving children and sick looking donkeys.
But really, sign up, don’t be a bastard. You won’t need any of it when you’re gone.
Nothing of a literary nature to share today as editing, cover design and various fiddlings continue around the upcoming Sci-Fi short. I’ve got an international team working round the clock from Deutschland to Dallas to get things ready in time. Sort of. At any rate early December will be the time and the internet will be the place so keep your eyes on this site (or Twitter, Facebook or the mailing list).
And if you find yourself desperate, lost and alone in the meantime? Why Crashed America and Laikanist Times await and like all good books they’ll spend the evening curled up in bed with you even if no one else will.
Anyway, here’s a song I just discovered to tide you over.
“I looked into the darkness, my courage fuelled by the gin handed to me by the last friendly face I’d seen. She’d been an ancient, a stooped and broken woman, lurking at the roadside not as a guardian or a guide, but as a farewell. A last moment of truly human contact for those who’d chosen to walk towards their fate. Those who’d chosen to walk to Catford. A journey from which none return, at least not with the souls they’d carried when departing.” Continue reading →