life's gravy - the grand finale

LAST ISSUE: THE GRAND FINALE

Last Issue

2

EDITOR’S PICKS


I t is always hard to bid farewell - be it sailing from the Grey Havens or parting with my readers. I do not wish to make you sad, but you are now in possession of the last issue of Life’s Gravy.

On behalf of our publishing team I would like to thank all of our readers for your kind support during all these years. We had our highs and lows but we existed for over a century and now, as the world is ending, it’s time to go and have a few last moments alone with our fears. We sincerely hope this issue will numb your sense of impending doom for at least quarter of an hour.

I took over the zine more than 23 years ago from Mr Yad Thribyms, whom I owe so much. ‘Hahahaa,’ he said to me on that memorable day before running into the woods, screaming and waving his hands in the air. Ever since I followed this last advice of his through my work, it truly changed my life and guided me as a Chief Editor of Life’s Gravy.

My love also goes to my team, especially to Maria Ku who has been with me from the start and has kept me sane all this time.

This has been a maddeningly exciting journey because of our contributors. You bastards never submitted on time and I had to pester you about the updates. However, you are all superbly talented, so we are even.

I edited this last issue through tears in my eyes. So, please, disregard the glitches and flaws. If you have any questions or anything you’d like to be answered you can still reach me at [email protected] (as always).

Here we go - this is T h e G r a n d F i n a l e ! Xiena Ria Lin Editor-in-Chief

mailto:[email protected]

mailto:[email protected]

3 LAST ISSUE: THE GRAND FINALE

Xiena Ria LinEditor-in-Chief, answers your letters,

compiles the playlist, edits contributors’ works, does stuff.

Maria KuThe killjoy responsible for the cover art /

unsourced illustrations / design.

Phillip MorcomAmateur physicist, professional

geographer. An artistically inclined hermit with initiative.

Fedor Kokorev, Esq. (not really) Doctors hate him - and they should, him

being the ungodly abomination he is!

Anton “Revokat” FadeevYour friendly neighborhood weirdo who

enjoys singing, horror stories and cookies. Probably has too much time on his hands for his own good. Proud owner of a hat

named Zachary.

Emma BlackwellA mad, mad person; member of a

superhero team; writer and cinemalover.

Zhanna KhromihAuthor of our travelogue. Currently resides in China. A majestic unicorn.

Yui F.Author of our invisible article Run! in this issue, whose invisibility does not make it

any less appreciated or published.

ContributorsEditor’s picks........................................................4

How would you like to go? by Phillip Morcom..................................................5

An optimistic story about optimismby Fedor Kokorev....................................................7

Simple tastes by Anton Fadeev....................................................9

An S.O.S. to the stars by Emma Blackwell...............................................12 Of adventurers and China by Zhanna Khromih.............................................13

Run! by Yui F. ...............................................................16

Classifieds...........................................................17

Mail......................................................................18

Closing word......................................................19

ContENTS

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EDITOR’S PICKS


Editor’s Picks

As always, here is the list of songs that you all suggested to accompany our issue.

1. Europe - The Final Countdown

2. Creedence Clearwater Revival - Bad Moon Rising

3. Automatic - Monster

4. Imagine Dragons - Radioactive

5. Bloc Party - The Pioneers

6. Blue Öyster Cult - (Don’t Fear) The Reaper

7. Ra Ra Riot - Dying Is Fine

8. Pearl Jam - Do The Evolution

9. Blink 182 - Anthem Part Two

10. Sunrise Avenue - Fight ‘til Dying

11. The Clash - London Calling

12. They Might Be Giants - I Hope That I Get Old Before I Die

13. R.E.M. - It’s The End Of The World As We Know It

14. Johnny Cash - When The Man Comes Around

15. Barry McGuire - Eve Of Destruction

16. Billy Boyd - The Last Goodbye

You can listen to this playlist on 8tracks or at our vk page (for registered users).

«End of the World» editor’s picks:

1. The World’s End (Obviously; can’t even begin to convey my love for this film)

2. Pacific Rim (Today we are cancelling the apocalypse!)

3. Interstellar (Majestic take on humanity and survival)

4. Dr Strangelove or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb (For Carnegie’s reference! Jk, it is hilarious)

5. Armageddon (Made a huge impact on me as a kid; also a collaboration between JJ Abrams & Michael Bay? It’s sheer fun!)

http://8tracks.com/xienalin/life-s-gravy-1-the-grand-finale

https://vk.com/audios-94007347


SCIENCE SECTION

T hey say that there is nothing better than watching the universe die from the safe

confines of Milliways, the Restaurant at the End of the Universe. Who ‘they’ are is less discussed than the end of all creation, how ‘they’ got to the said establishment – even less so. But what if we knew? What if we were there, what if we were dining with those highly unspecified beings, right before the very end of the universe? What if we visited multiple times, would we see the same event over and over again, or would it be significantly different? As far as modern science is concerned, there is no simple answer to the end of the universe, partially because our knowledge is not enough yet to grasp the subtle nuances of dark matter or dark energy that play an important role in predicting it.

B ut let’s go back to our restaurant. Imagine you are sitting comfortably at

your table, with a glass of good wine in your hand, soft music playing in the background. You are waiting for the blinding light and accompanying explosions that signify the Big End. But nothing happens. Why? Our universe doesn’t exist anymore, but you didn’t see a thing. You have just experienced the Big Freeze: the universe kept expanding into infinity, the most definitely finite matter got extremely stretched out, distances between single atoms turned into millions of billions of kilometres, there are no stars, no planets, and everything turned into cold dark night. COOL, you say, but it’s not that spectacular, huh? A slightly more interesting version would be the universe getting ripped apart in what is called

the Big Rip: an unseen force called ‘dark energy’ would push the acceleration rate of universe’s expansion to its limits until it is violently torn apart and turns into nothingness. Such a drastic event could happen while there is still life around, perhaps you could see worlds passing you by at an unimaginable speed before the darkness takes over. As thrilling as it sounds, we wouldn’t recommend it to anyone with motion sickness.

T he Big Crunch would be a big no-no as well, although you would move in the

opposite direction – towards the centre of the universe. Imagine all the planets, stars, galaxies, star dust, black holes and literally everything else converging in one singular point in the middle. That would definitely be a sight to behold. And yes, later on you could brag about how you have experienced a reversed Big Bang. Another good thing to keep in mind is that if something goes wrong and you don’t go back in time – there is always hope that it’s in fact a Big Bounce and you’re gonna be there to witness the BEGINNING of another universe. Not bad, right? A lot more optimistic than the End of Time. Literal time, and literal end. No more seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, you get the drill. Spectacularity level: equivalent to the Big Freeze, I’m afraid. But given that there may be many universes in existence the end of time in one of them wouldn’t be that bad, you can always try somewhere else. And, hey, maybe at some point you would meet your alternative self (or selves, really)?

How Would You Like To Go?


SCIENCE SECTION

O ne could say that ANY end is certainly better than no end at all: the theory of

infinite universe is the one that is most easily discarded by scientists, and for good reason.Given INFINITE time, INFINITE things would happen INFINITE number of times, making our well known predictability useless. If you

flip a coin, the chances turn to 100/100 instead of 50/50. And where’s fun in that? Therefore let’s hope that the universe WILL end at some point, and that you will be there with your glass of good wine to see it all.

Phillip Morcom

Photo courtesy of NASA, available at http://apod.nasa.gov/apod/ap150107.html

http://apod.nasa.gov/apod/ap150107.html


STORYTIME

F or some, the end of days meant fear. For some, and quite a good deal of them,

just something you could laugh at. For Boris it meant peace.

N ot the big one, like the tall-lettered PEACE on a UN poster, no. A small, cosy

peace you can own: the peace of the grandad’s shed which smelt of cheap tobacco, rusty metal and old paper. It was his place. And grandad’s, obviously, but he rarely ever left the house, so that didn’t count. There, between the bars of pale sunshine, was the cradle of a thousand empires and the deathbed of twice as more - because the endings were always more exciting than beginnings. And above it all, above all the fascinating little things that went ding! or bomm! when you banged them together, loomed a giant poster from the days long gone. It said, rather convincingly: THE END IS NEAR. To prove the point there was even a shadow of a person burning to ashes in the heart of a fiery firestorm. For some it would seem scary. For Boris the tiny human figure that was drowning in faded flames was an old friend. He called him Jack.

So, you see, Boris wasn’t afraid of the apocalypse, he was rather fascinated by the idea. Too bad the apocalypses never cared about this sort of thing and happened anyway.

Grandad died and the boy was taken away. And the empires rose no more.

Boris wept.

T he man looked at the countless faces beneath him and wondered: ‘Why we

call that a sea?’ Because the crowd was not a sea and not even an ocean. It was a galaxy, where the eyes of the adherents, reflecting the dancing flames of the candles, were shining like a million stars. Yes, that was a galaxy - his galaxy - and also an angry multifaced goddess in the crown of embers ready to smite the worthless and send the righteous to life eternal.

And that was right because that was what the Teachings promised.

It was also the right time. 11 pm to be exact.

The man smiled. For many, that smile would seem scary. But for the crowd gathered down there it was warmer than the embrace of a loved one, warmer even than the first day of spring. The Teachings were clear, and their prophet was with them.

- You heard not once, not twice, but thousands of times that the end was near, - said the man, and the elaborate electronics carried his calm voice to every person present.

The people with stars in their eyes held their breath.

- And I say that THE END IS NOW.

The man clapped his hands once and then there it was, for the whole world to see, a giant clockface finely tuned in the accordance with the the most careful interpretation of the sacred texts. Not a regular clockface but the grim face of a demon - with only a secondhand on it, for at a moment like that there was no need to count hours.

An Optimistic Story about Optimism


STORYTIME

Every eye followed the secondhand, cast in the form of a sword, steadily making the executioner’s way towards the hallowed mark.

Four seconds. Three seconds. Two.

The man closed his eyes, being at peace for the first time in years.

One.

Nothing happened. The silence was so thick you could eat it and save some for later.

Maybe the gods forgot about prophecies. Maybe there were no gods at all.

There certainly was no justice. When the man opened his eyes, still not believing that the world was still there, he saw his galaxy shattered in pieces. And the multifaced goddess, now more flabbergasted than angry, soon turned on him.

‘If gods are not there to do the job, I will do it myself, - he thought. - The empires shall fall’

Boris didn’t cry. He had forgotten how.

T he old man sat on a warm stone and clicked on his radio to listen to the cries

of terror for a bit.

They called him a terrorist but he clearly wasn’t one. The terrorists want to invoke fear

in the hearts of their enemies; he, by contrast, just wanted everybody to die.

They called him a madman and probably he was. He certainly didn’t argue with that, for he was a reasonable man.

He tried to find a comfortable position on the stone. After a day under the sun it was warm which was pleasing to the old bones, but the sun couldn’t make it any less rough.

The radio was tearing itself apart with cries of fear, anger and pain. Honestly, there was no need to listen anymore, it was all in the view: giant balls of angry roaring flames were rising everywhere like biblical beasts. Even the shadows looked mad in terror. But he listened still, trying to find at least some satisfaction in the fruits of his labours.

The man felt nothing.

He sighed, let the radio fall on the stones and looked at the wall of flame. Something stirred inside him like a forgotten splinter.

Ah. So that’s how it was.

‘Hi. I am Jack,’ - he said.

The gods wept and fled in fear.

Fedor Kokorev


STORYTIME

Simple Tastes

M iss Juniper was a woman of simple tastes. She took her morning tea plain without

milk or “fancy stuff” (as she grumblingly called cream), and of course it had to be black since green tea gave her heightened pressure and headaches. When she felt particularly daring she added a spoonful of real sugar instead of “those little tasteless good-for-nothing pesky tablets” but that was practically pushing the limits of how much sweets a month she could afford to take. Besides biscuits of course – you can’t have proper tea without biscuits, after all.

Her daily activities mostly included listening to her old transistor radio (all those modern digital shenanigans were specifically invented just to confuse the elderly, Miss Juniper believed), knitting the most horrendous woolen socks in Britain (though Miss Juniper preferred to bluntly ignore that unfortunate fact) and walking to the park with her Labrador Old Bobby (or just Bobs) to breathe some fresh air and feed the unfathomably plump local pigeons with breadcrumbs and leftover biscuits.

It was a quiet and simple life and Miss Juniper was quite content with it, all things considered. And there were a few things to consider when speaking about that particular old lady. First and foremost - she was blind. She was blind for so many years that she hardly believed it to be an inconvenience – “More of a blessing, really” – she would say, - “I don’t have to see all those posh British faces everywhere anymore!”

Secondly, she lived alone and despised any guests at all. Should some relative or neighbor happen to be foolish enough to visit her on

holidays or during the weekend, they would have to face her vicious character astounding for such a petite old lady and a tray of her “special” biscuits which were hard as concrete. In most cases guests suddenly had to leave while their teeth were still intact for some other extremely-important-business-they-totally-forgot-about - that made Miss Juniper quite happy. In all other cases Miss Juniper just smiled ominously and brought out a second tray of biscuits.

One summer night no different from any other summer nights before that, Miss Juniper dozed off in a cozy leather armchair in front of her ancient radio. While dreaming she heard some old song interrupted by a distant voice of radio announcer speaking about “new clear heads” or something of the like several times, Old Bobby barking desperately somewhere in the street and a deafening rumbling noise which woke her up completely.

For some time Miss Juniper sat still not daring to move a muscle, since the ground and everything around her was trembling and shaking like on a Judgment Day. She heard a loud crash from the kitchen and thought quite matter-of-factly: “Well, there goes my favorite china”. For some reason she wasn’t at all concerned about her own safety and was more worried about some bloody chunks of porcelain she had to clean up later than her own life. That thought irritated her immensely.

Then as suddenly as it all began it stopped – and everything went awfully quiet.

Miss Juniper felt around for her cane, took it firmly in her thin almost skeletal hand,


STORYTIME

slid her old shaky feet into her raggedy but nevertheless fluffy slippers and slowly stood up. More out of habit than for any particular reason she turned off the radio, hardly noticing that it went dead several minutes ago, headed to the closet, found a broom there and without any hurry meticulously cleaned up the mess on the kitchen floor.

After that she lit her decrepit gas stove with a match, put a kettle on it, prepared herself some earl grey tea, poured it into the only surviving porcelain cup in the kitchen and after some careful consideration added a whole spoonful of sugar there. She pondered for a moment or two an enticing possibility of adding another half-spoon or even a whole other spoon of sugar to the tea but wisely decided against that – Miss Juniper was a proper lady after all and didn’t want to get carried away with unfit and risqué ideas.

Miss Juniper drank her tea alone in sullen silence. If she wouldn’t opt to ignore her surroundings and the world at large, she might have noticed that the silence wasn’t only sullen but also pretty much unnatural. But Miss Juniper preferred to live in an isolated little world of her own, so she didn’t pay any attention to the fact that sounds of passing cars, usual cheerful banter of teenagers and singing of the summer birds were absent outside the window.

Also if she weren’t blind in addition to that or at least owned some electronic devices besides her clunky radio, she might have noticed that electricity also was no more. But the fact that the whole world was plunged into primeval darkness also eluded her completely.

After she finished her tea Miss Juniper

remembered that it was time to feed her faithful Old Bobby. She opened a creaky cupboard beneath the sink, found a can of dog food there, skillfully opened it with a trusty can opener she had since the war and emptied its contents into a plastic bowl with a loud “SQUISH!” sound. Secretly Miss Juniper felt proud that she could manage opening cans with such dexterity – it once again showed that she didn’t need anyone in the whole world and would be just fine even if someday all the people would just disappear and finally leave her alone. Sadly, irony of the situation she was in right now was utterly lost on her.

She yelled for Bobs to come eat his dinner, but there was no response. After shouting a couple more times with the same result, Miss Juniper finally begrudgingly stumbled along to the front door – the silly thing must have been playing outside the whole time and couldn’t hear her.

She opened the door wide, took a lungful of air and shouted for the dog for the last time.

Silence.

Only the sound of wind wildly howling through the bare branches of the lifeless husks of trees in the park.

Right about when Miss Juniper’s old rusty heart started beating twice as fast than it should, she heard a merry yapping coming from further down the street. She called out to Old Bobby a few more times and beckoned with a cane for him to return to her. The yapping began speedily approaching her until at last it turned into the mass of fur and paws and saliva licking her hands and face in an unadulterated symphony of joy and reunion.

11

EDITOR’S PICKS


When the pup got home safely she led him to the kitchen, so he could enjoy his meal without any more incidents.

“Bobs, you silly bugger, you frightened me to death! How could you get lost at your own street? Didn’t you hear me calling?” – Miss

Juniper bickered, but stroked Bobby’s furry head tenderly nevertheless - “A blind woman with a deaf dog – quite a pair we make. Silly Old Bobby. You’re so silly you would’ve missed the end of the world if it passed by your very nose, wouldn’t you?” – she laughed and then stroked the dog on his other head.

Anton “Revokat” Fadeev


STORYTIME

An S.O.S to the Stars

I dig my toes into the sand. The ocean looks like it is burning while the Sun rolls behind

its back. I feel happy in this moment of the dying day. It is suddenly dark. I scramble myself from the beach and touch the water for the last time.

T here is a possibility the water would accept me and take me from this pile

of dirt. At least it would feel a bit more like antigrav. On the second thought, groking with the ocean is not my cup of tea. A chilly breeze covers me with goosebumps. Last glimpse at the shimmering water before I head back to the town. I pat the steel on my ship gently. I am still careful even though I know I can’t make it sink even deeper in sand with my touch. No, the nature of this bloody place will take care of it without my input.

I walk through the abandoned town and find the house I squatter. It’s a cosy place. There

is some solace for me in this. I sit in a wicker rocker and think that this might be my heaven. I might have landed much worse than I remember. I might have plummeted onto a less welcoming world. I might have not survived.

A n alarm beeps once and I walk out to the street and climb a ladder to the roof of

a clocktower looming over the town with its motionless orange eye. The projector buzzes with excitement when I light it up. It almost feels like a purr of my ship engine. I shake it off and straighten my back. Pushing the lever I send an S.O.S. to the stars. I turn it off when I get tired and then walk back. I eat the rest of the fish I caught in the morning before going to bed. I fall asleep fast and I dream of floating in the water. The stars flicker back at me.

Emma Blackwell


TRAVELOGUE

Of Adventurers and ChinaSketch #106: The capital of porcelain

I f one day you decide to go somewhere looking for wonderful ceramic treasures, I

can recommend you visit (and this won’t be a surprise) China! In fact, good crockery is also called “china”, that is a very clear hint for us about place where we can find it. But China is big, and if you don’t speak Chinese and didn’t do research before trip, it will be difficult to find the right place, so I have here some information which can help with your mission.

T he most famous place of ceramics production in China is Jingdezhen 景德

镇, the city in the east-south of the country. Jingdezhen has a very long history which comes from the dark ages of the past. During the last 2000 years crafters were working non-stop - making different kind of ceramics, porcelain etc. - what literally makes the city a “Porcelain capital” of China, and even of the whole world.

To get a sense of Jingdezhen pottery traditions I’d recommend you visit three kinds of places:

1. Crafters workshops,

2. Museums,

3. Biggest porcelain markets.

I t’s not so easy to find pottery workshops, but you can try out old districts. New and old

style buildings are mixing there in a weird but at the same time very interesting way. When you walk through the old streets pay attention


TRAVELOGUE

to the ground - if you see pieces of ceramics under your feet, the workshops are probably very close!

In crafters’ workshops you can find a lot of interesting dishes with unique shapes, and obviously all of them are handmade. It’s not a place to buy finished pottery, but there crafters make a first step – making a form, drying it and then selling it for coloring and calcination (burning). But only in these workshops you

can see process of transformation of clay into something wonderful and understand how crafters work, it is a fantastic experience and something to remember! Don’t forget to pay attention again – on the streets or in old houses near workshops it is possible to find interesting examples of ceramics.

If you dig history - “Imperial kiln national archaeological remains park” 御窑博物馆 would be helpful. Beautiful old porcelain,


TRAVELOGUE

nice views and good place to rest. Be careful not to break anything though - last year one piece from the park was sold for USD 36 mln and another - for USD 27 mln at an auction in HK. (The previous page has a photo from thismuseum).

To swim in a sea of porcelain go to Taocicheng 陶瓷城 (“city of ceramics”). It is a big place with a lot of shops where you can choose and buy pottery (bargain till the end!). The nicest pieces could be hidden in the corners or dark places (or dark corners), so take your time to explore and hunt for the porcelain treasures even in shops which don’t look good from the outside.

Zhanna Khromih

17 LAST ISSUE: WORLD’S END

CLASSIFIEDS

Classifieds

Last Night on Earth Party 27 May 6 pm, Gawk’s Mansion near Manchester. Please come for the Last Night on Earth Party on 27th of May after 6 pm. Dress code: no worries about embarrassment due to the end of the world. There will be drinks and snacks. Feel free to bring

anyone you’d like to eat.

WANTEDLooking for a drift-compatible partner for a swing contest. No prior dancing experience required. You know where to find me.

Ghost-writer wanted. Preference will be given to experienced with famous last words (include portfolio). No insurance agents please. [email protected]

Looking for a girl who sat next to me on the bus and was reading the same book, but backwards. Maybe we’ve already met on page 111 Chapter 22? Call me. No spoilers! +44 20 7338 9854

Superheroes to save the world. Pays well. Permanent position. +1 631 28364377

FOR SALEFantastic liquid acid happiness to dissolve your pain. +2-END-URMISERY

Magical staff for sale. Cheap. Mint condition. Didn’t work for me.

+44 151 473 8329

Toys. Huge variety. Please collect in the attic.


YOUR LETTERS

Mail

Are dolphins going?

We have all been wondering whether dolphins are staying to witness the end of the world with humans. Douglas Adams predicted in the late 1980s that these beautiful smart creatures would leave on short notice. They, apparently, would have an access to the intergalactic communication network to get the updates on the planetary status and forecasts before it actually happens. You might have been sceptical on the existence of such network before it became so obvious you couldn't ignore it any more.

To remind you, according to the Fermi paradox, sentient inhabitants of the Earth should have had a contact with aliens by now. Well, just so you know, he was right. Only obnoxious species would presume that they are the ones. Did you really think it was you, humans? Did you, Steve Carlsberg? Did you even try to just listen?

To my dearest friends John Lilly and Margaret Howe - sorry.

So long and thanks for all the fish!

Good luck,Mr Phi

(your dedicated non-human sentient reader)

Dear Life’s Gravy!

I was devastated to hear you are closing down so soon! You’ve only been around for a century, it passed in a blink of an eye. Frankly, I haven’t even noticed how it swooshed by. Meh. Forget it.

Dear reader!

Thank you so much for not caring about our short existence in this world! It is a relief.

Yours,Xiena Ria Lin


Thank you all for your support in making of this issue. I am very happy to know that people are reading and, hopefully, enjoying our zine (savoring their time!).

I would be delighted to receive your comments! Also, we are constantly looking to expand our family of contributors and friends - so submit your art, writings, suggest a song for the playlist, drop us a message or write a letter/classifieds to be published in the next issue of Life’s Gravy. I would presume you agree for us to publish whatever you send me, unless you state otherwise. If you have suggestions on how to improve our work here or feel you would like to be involved in this madness and are able to do that, feel free to contact me as well. Just fyi - we are open to cross-promotion! Please send everything to [email protected] *grabby hands*

The next issue of Life’s Gravy is planned for the June 15, 2015 with the SUPERHEROES theme!

Closing Word

CC BY-NC-SA 4.0

http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/4.0/

life's gravy - the grand finale

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