It might or might not be the case that readers are windering what the best way to get in touch with Je Ponse est? It certainly true that over the centuries in which we have been writing this journal, and the decades in which the journal was not (as far as we are aware) been written, there have been an ingenously large number of methods found in which to add letters and opinions to our worthy commentry of life in the city today. The most commonly known method is to find the ratfucker photocopier boy and ask him to staple your additional writings to the end of the journal. He will normally say yes (to anything in fact) and as such the journal may grow as it is circulated. This method certainly has its merits although some of the additional information will be of little interest to anybody, apart from of course the Silver Wizard – who living where he does – is often in need of additional shitrag. Another commod method of getting information to us it to attempt to send the letters and articles via the boat in which they arrived. As you may or may not know, copies of Je Ponse are sealed in ear wax before being placed inside the fairy boats to be deposited where the wind blows them. The boats may indeed sail again, and on the lucky occassion the writings may appear back at the secret harbour from which they are lanched. However such methods of transportation are notoriously unreliable. Only the occassional writings have arrived this way and so far the messages have not been perhaps of the highest literary value. Great thoughts have also successful arrived at our doors by the use of carrier-rats and sea-pigeons, but unfortunatly much of the wisdom contained within these manuscripts has been found to be eaten before the delivery could be fully made. For the moment we recommend the following method of postage. On a full moon it has been said that the flooded metropolitan looks at its most beautiful. The low levels of reflected moon heat that the white sun sends is sometimes sufficient to allow the multi-coloured pollutants to fill the air with their sweet poison. Upon such a night we suggest that our humble reader takes a walk. Follow the train tracks from whichever hovel you choose to live in until you see the three commercial buildings that rise from the sea. The gap between the second and the third tower marks the direction in which you should be heading. Do not stop to talk to any passing adverising men or city wardens. When you are half way towards your destination you may find a tree – do not pause to marvel at this creaking miracle but continue toutdroite. Continue down the glittering streets until you reach a railway bridge. Again I would advise you not be distracted by the strange music that is emerging from this bridge. It may in fact be the sounds of rehearsals of the legendary Psyko Mozketo but you should have plenty of time to call upon them on the way home – should you ever get that far. The old commercial building is very derelict. Despite the fact that half of the building is submerged in the sea it is extremely flammable. DO NOT smoke at this point – one spark could destroy everything. Even the seas burn with a heat that only the unbodied demons can bare. You will want to climb to the 43rd floor, and you will want to time your climbing with the arrival of the moon at 9:35 in the sky if you are facing away from the sea. If you are now facing that direction then you are now in the right place at the right time. Look at the rippling black water beneath you. Can you see lines? Can you see shapes? Look within the white reflected orb in the centre of the flooded city beneath you. Here you will see a message that has been left for us, written backwards in the moss on the tower ahead of you, and then reflected forwards in the reflected moon. Can you imagine how this writing was achieved? If you can observe this phenominem then you can replicate it yourself, and send messages for us to publish in next months editions of Je Ponse.
confessions of a rodent fiddler 