When I twist on the tap, only hot air hisses out, and when I switch on the light, the only illumination on offer is a dime-a-dozen guru spouting fortune cookie solutions. But what I want to tell you about is ant language, and how they have taken to forming pictograms out in the yard, their shiny tiny exoskeletons forming enigmatic glyphs which would no doubt impart information key to our survival as a species if we could only understand them. If they made a movie, there would be beautifully dishevelled scientists falling in love as they worked all night to crack the code: but this is the real world, and all the scientists have rings round their eyes and are competing for grant applications or tweaking the details of some shit we don’t need. Meanwhile, the ants are forming shapes like the Nazca Lines, a precise representation of planetary alignment just before dawn on 19th January 2060, and one of those emojis you occasionally use without really knowing what it means. When I fire up my laptop to look for answers, the screen’s just a scatter of twitching antennae.
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Oz Hardwick
Picture Nick Victor
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