THE FOOD CHAIN FORECAST

In the British countryside lies a farm, flourishing in the variable weather they’re famous for. The morning dew glistens as the farmers awaken from their slumber. The farmers toil all day, and go to sleep tired and aching. Tomorrow will be the day they can finally harvest their crop and bring in the money, they’re sure of it. They sleep soundly, and awaken the following morning, full of anticipation.

The anticipation leaves them in a scream, as dread fills its place just as quickly. Where just the night before stood a perfect field, now stands a field ravaged by insects, the crops depleted. The work the farmers put in, though commendable, counts for nothing.

The crops are like the team of Van Chan, Chambers, Creed and Gameboy – they put their faith in their false God, Yahweh, praying to him for fair weather so that they may put food on their table and eat. But praying is not enough to provide, and their blind faith in place of hard work will lead to their demise.

And though the farmers are forlorn at the poor harvest, the insects are full and fed. They feast on the hard work of others, picking the opportune time to sneak in and take what is not theirs, like the team led by Manson, who loves nothing more than to steal the followers of others and force them to submit to him. Even those who stand on his team are there against their will.

Though the insects are full, that merely makes them better prey for the field-mice who scurry amongst the carnage, and feast on the them. The team of the dead are familiar with this tactic. Isaac Danvers takes those injured in battle and locks them in his medical hell more often than I can remember, and Rain takes his cue from those who have already died. The field-mice use their relative power to take control over those pesky insects, but against bigger beasts they rely on stealth and subterfuge. Once in the open their power wanes.

Watching over all of this sit four wise owls. They watched the insects devour the crops, and waited. They watched the mice eat the insects and chose to bide their time. Only when the mice were still and quiet, full from their mischief and complacent, did the owls strike. Each owl took to a different corner of the field and feasted on the mice until none remained.

Troy, Zander, Nightstick and I are the owls. Wise enough to pick our battles, to choose our time, and to realise that our lack of unity as a team will not work no matter how we force it. Instead we each take a corner of the field – the BATTLE FIELD – and do our own thing. The outcome will remain the same – everything devoured, and the wise owls the only ones remaining.

That is the OSW FOOD CHAIN, this week at Chain Reaction. The passive shall not win, nor the devious, nor the meek and stealthy. The wise will rise. And that’s why – despite our differences – we will reign supreme.

We will rise.