Peter Paul Rubens Virgin and ChildPeter Paul Rubens Rape of the Daughters of LeucippusPeter Paul Rubens Garden of Love
Colon stopped reading for a while to curse all alchemists.
'—because it is Puzzling Evidence. Hoping this finds you in Good Health, Yours Faithfully, Carrot Ironfoundersson, (Cpl).'
scratched his head. What the hell did that all mean?
Just after breakfast a couple of senior jesters from the Fools' Guild had come to pick up the corpse. Corpses in the river . . . well, there Colon, 'at the moment. But I should run, if I was you.'
The Alchemists' Guild is opposite the Gamblers' Guild. Usually. Sometimes it's above it, or below it, or falling in bits around it.
The gamblers are occasionally asked why they continue to was nothing very unusual about that. But it wasn't the way clowns died, usually. After all, what did a clown have that was worth stealing? What sort of danger was a clown?As for the alchemists, he was blowed if he was—Of course, he didn't have to. He looked up at the recruits. They had to be good for something.Cuddy and Detritus – don't salute! - I've got a little job fotr you. Just take this piece of paper to the Alchemists'Guild, all right? And ask one of the loonies to tell you what he makes of it.''Where's the Alchemists' Guild, sergeant?' said Cuddy.'In the Street of Alchemists, of course,' said
Tuesday 28 April 2009
Monday 27 April 2009
Vincent van Gogh Souvenir de Mauve
Vincent van Gogh Souvenir de MauveVincent van Gogh Peach Tree in BloomVincent van Gogh The Red Vineyard
Sybil is very specific. She is deeding all the property to you as her husband. She has a somewhat. . . old-fashioned approach.' He pushed a folded paper across the table. Vimes took it, unfolded it, and stared.
'Should you stared at the shiny bottle of Bearhugger's Very Fine Whiskey. He wasn't sure how it had got there. Somehow he'd never got around to throwing it out.
Start that again and you won't even see retirement. Stick to cigars.
He shut the drawer and leaned back, taking a half-smoked cigar predecease her, of course,' Mr Morecombe droned on, 'it will revert to her by common right of marriage. Or to any fruit of the union, of course.'Vimes hadn't even said anything at that point. He'd just felt his mouth drop open and small areas of his brain fuse together.'Lady Sybil,' said the lawyer, the words coming from far away, 'while not as young as she was, is a fine healthy woman and there is no reason why—'Vimes had got through the rest of the interview on automatic.He could hardly think about it now. When he tried, his thoughts kept skidding away. And, just as always happened when the world got too much for him, they skidded somewhere else.He pulled open the bottom drawer of his desk and
Sybil is very specific. She is deeding all the property to you as her husband. She has a somewhat. . . old-fashioned approach.' He pushed a folded paper across the table. Vimes took it, unfolded it, and stared.
'Should you stared at the shiny bottle of Bearhugger's Very Fine Whiskey. He wasn't sure how it had got there. Somehow he'd never got around to throwing it out.
Start that again and you won't even see retirement. Stick to cigars.
He shut the drawer and leaned back, taking a half-smoked cigar predecease her, of course,' Mr Morecombe droned on, 'it will revert to her by common right of marriage. Or to any fruit of the union, of course.'Vimes hadn't even said anything at that point. He'd just felt his mouth drop open and small areas of his brain fuse together.'Lady Sybil,' said the lawyer, the words coming from far away, 'while not as young as she was, is a fine healthy woman and there is no reason why—'Vimes had got through the rest of the interview on automatic.He could hardly think about it now. When he tried, his thoughts kept skidding away. And, just as always happened when the world got too much for him, they skidded somewhere else.He pulled open the bottom drawer of his desk and
Sunday 26 April 2009
Gustav Klimt The Three Ages of Woman
Gustav Klimt The Three Ages of WomanGustav Klimt The Fulfillment (detail I)Gustav Klimt The Embrace (detail_ square)Gustav Klimt Schloss Kammer Am Attersee II
hated her and hated her and now she’s dead!”
“Yes, dear. Now go and tell Nanny about the log pile.”
Magrat opened her mouth to frame the words “I happen to be very nearly queen” but decided not to. Instead she gra-ciously went outside and looked at the log pile.
“It’s quite high,” she said, coming back and blowing her nose. “Looks like it’s just been stacked.”
And she wound up the clock yesterday,” said Nanny.
“And the tea caddy’s half full, I just looked.”
“Well?”
“broomstick.
293
Terry Pratchett
“Come on!”
Magrat picked up the card. The writing was familiar. She’d seen it several She wasn’t sure,” said Nanny. “Hmm.”She opened the envelope addressed to her. It was larger and flatter than the one holding the will, and contained a single piece of card.Nanny read it, and let it drop on to the table.“Come on,” she said. “We ain’t got much time!”“What’s the matter?”“And bring the sugar bowl!”Nanny wrenched open the door and hurried toward her
hated her and hated her and now she’s dead!”
“Yes, dear. Now go and tell Nanny about the log pile.”
Magrat opened her mouth to frame the words “I happen to be very nearly queen” but decided not to. Instead she gra-ciously went outside and looked at the log pile.
“It’s quite high,” she said, coming back and blowing her nose. “Looks like it’s just been stacked.”
And she wound up the clock yesterday,” said Nanny.
“And the tea caddy’s half full, I just looked.”
“Well?”
“broomstick.
293
Terry Pratchett
“Come on!”
Magrat picked up the card. The writing was familiar. She’d seen it several She wasn’t sure,” said Nanny. “Hmm.”She opened the envelope addressed to her. It was larger and flatter than the one holding the will, and contained a single piece of card.Nanny read it, and let it drop on to the table.“Come on,” she said. “We ain’t got much time!”“What’s the matter?”“And bring the sugar bowl!”Nanny wrenched open the door and hurried toward her
Thursday 23 April 2009
Mark Spain Eternal Flame
Mark Spain Eternal FlameMark Spain EncoreMark Spain Dance I
elves started to laugh.“So much for him,” it said. “How stupid . . . Lady? Will you listen to your warrior?”He gripped Shawn’s broken arm, and twisted.Shawn tried not to scream. Purple lights flashed in front of his eyes. He wondered what would happen if he passed out.224LOR06 ftffO ift0/£6He wished his mum was here.“Lady,” said the elf, “if you—““All right,” said Magrat’s voice, from somewhere in the darkness. “I’m going to come out. You must promise not to hurt me.”“Oh, indeed I do, lady.”“And you’ll let Shawn go.”looked hopefully along the corridor.
Magrat smiled brightly at the elf beside him. “This is for you,” she said, handing over the box. The elf took it auto-matically. “But you mustn’t open it. And remember you promised not to hurt me.”
The elves closed in behind Magrat. One of them raised a hand, with a stone knife in it.
“Lady?” said the elf holding the box, which was rocking gently in its hands.
“Yes?” said Magrat, meekly.
“I lied to you.”
The knife plunged toward her back.
And shattered.
The elf looked at Magrat’s innocent expression, and opened the box.
225
elves started to laugh.“So much for him,” it said. “How stupid . . . Lady? Will you listen to your warrior?”He gripped Shawn’s broken arm, and twisted.Shawn tried not to scream. Purple lights flashed in front of his eyes. He wondered what would happen if he passed out.224LOR06 ftffO ift0/£6He wished his mum was here.“Lady,” said the elf, “if you—““All right,” said Magrat’s voice, from somewhere in the darkness. “I’m going to come out. You must promise not to hurt me.”“Oh, indeed I do, lady.”“And you’ll let Shawn go.”looked hopefully along the corridor.
Magrat smiled brightly at the elf beside him. “This is for you,” she said, handing over the box. The elf took it auto-matically. “But you mustn’t open it. And remember you promised not to hurt me.”
The elves closed in behind Magrat. One of them raised a hand, with a stone knife in it.
“Lady?” said the elf holding the box, which was rocking gently in its hands.
“Yes?” said Magrat, meekly.
“I lied to you.”
The knife plunged toward her back.
And shattered.
The elf looked at Magrat’s innocent expression, and opened the box.
225
Tuesday 21 April 2009
Michael Austin The Black Drape
Michael Austin The Black DrapeTalantbek Chekirov Tender PassionTalantbek Chekirov Missing YouTalantbek Chekirov Embrace in Paris
up the larder every day I’d come up here with a blanket like a shot. Who’s got that jug?”
Jason took a pull out of nervousness, and found that he felt better as the alcohol dissolved his synapses.
But he made an effort.
“Hey, lads,” he slurred, “’ve got ‘nother jug coolin’ in the water trough down in the forge, what d’you say? We could all go down there now. Lads? Lads?”
There was the end of the big table and Magrat dined at the other.
But they managed to meet up for a last glass of wine in front of the fire.
They always found it difficult to know what to say at
moments like this. Neither of them was used to spending
what might be called quality time in the company of
another person. The conversation tended toward the
cryptic.soft sound of snoring.150LORQS ftffO iftQf£6“Oh, lads.”Jason stood up.The stars wheeled.Jason fell down, very gently. The jug rolled out of his hands and bounced across the grass.The stars twinkled, the breeze was cold, and it smelled of snow.The king dined alone, which is to say, he dined at one
up the larder every day I’d come up here with a blanket like a shot. Who’s got that jug?”
Jason took a pull out of nervousness, and found that he felt better as the alcohol dissolved his synapses.
But he made an effort.
“Hey, lads,” he slurred, “’ve got ‘nother jug coolin’ in the water trough down in the forge, what d’you say? We could all go down there now. Lads? Lads?”
There was the end of the big table and Magrat dined at the other.
But they managed to meet up for a last glass of wine in front of the fire.
They always found it difficult to know what to say at
moments like this. Neither of them was used to spending
what might be called quality time in the company of
another person. The conversation tended toward the
cryptic.soft sound of snoring.150LORQS ftffO iftQf£6“Oh, lads.”Jason stood up.The stars wheeled.Jason fell down, very gently. The jug rolled out of his hands and bounced across the grass.The stars twinkled, the breeze was cold, and it smelled of snow.The king dined alone, which is to say, he dined at one
Monday 20 April 2009
Edward Hopper High Road
Edward Hopper High RoadEdward Hopper First Row OrchestraEdward Hopper El Palacio
you forget it.”
Magrat arrived at as near to a run as was possible in the queen outfit, which ought to have had castors.
She found a circle of several hundred people and, near the edge, a very pensive Nanny Ogg.
“What’s happening, Nanny?”
Nanny turned.
78
LORD8 ft^D Lft0/£6
“Oops, sorry. Didn’t hear no fanfare,” she said. “I’d curtsy, only it’s my legs.”
Magrat looked past her at the two seated figures in the circle.
“What’re they doing?”
“Staring contest.”
“But they’re looking at the sky.”
“Bugger that Diamanda girl! She’s got Esme trying to outstare the sun,” said Nanny Ogg. “No looking away, no blinking, she’d kick me round the kingdom. Anyway, the others’d spot it.”
“Perhaps we could create a small cloud or something?” said Magrat.
“No! That’s cheating!”...”“How long have they been doing it?”“About an hour,” said Nanny gloomily.“That’s terrible!”“It’s bloody stupid is what it is,” said Nanny. “Can’t think what’s got into Esme. As if power’s all there is to witching! She knows that. Witching’s not power, it’s how you harness it.”There was a pale gold haze over the circle, from magical fallout.“They’ll have to stop at sunset,” said Magrat.“Esme won’t last until sunset,” said Nanny. “Look at her.All slumped up.”“I suppose you couldn’t use some magic to—“ Magrat began.“Talk sense,” said Nanny. “If Esme found out
“Well, you always cheat.”
you forget it.”
Magrat arrived at as near to a run as was possible in the queen outfit, which ought to have had castors.
She found a circle of several hundred people and, near the edge, a very pensive Nanny Ogg.
“What’s happening, Nanny?”
Nanny turned.
78
LORD8 ft^D Lft0/£6
“Oops, sorry. Didn’t hear no fanfare,” she said. “I’d curtsy, only it’s my legs.”
Magrat looked past her at the two seated figures in the circle.
“What’re they doing?”
“Staring contest.”
“But they’re looking at the sky.”
“Bugger that Diamanda girl! She’s got Esme trying to outstare the sun,” said Nanny Ogg. “No looking away, no blinking, she’d kick me round the kingdom. Anyway, the others’d spot it.”
“Perhaps we could create a small cloud or something?” said Magrat.
“No! That’s cheating!”...”“How long have they been doing it?”“About an hour,” said Nanny gloomily.“That’s terrible!”“It’s bloody stupid is what it is,” said Nanny. “Can’t think what’s got into Esme. As if power’s all there is to witching! She knows that. Witching’s not power, it’s how you harness it.”There was a pale gold haze over the circle, from magical fallout.“They’ll have to stop at sunset,” said Magrat.“Esme won’t last until sunset,” said Nanny. “Look at her.All slumped up.”“I suppose you couldn’t use some magic to—“ Magrat began.“Talk sense,” said Nanny. “If Esme found out
“Well, you always cheat.”
Thursday 16 April 2009
Tom Thomson Jack Pine
Tom Thomson Jack PineRodney White Nothing to DreamSung Kim Point
percent? How about it? After expenses, of course-”
The Great God Om smiled.
IX. I Think same."
XII. You Make me Laugh, Little Prophet. Sell Your Tortoises, By All Means.
"Tell you the truth," said Dhblah, "I've already drawn a few designs just now . . ."
Om vanished. There was a brief thunderclap. Dhblah looked reflectively at his sketches.
". . . but I suppose I'll have to take the little figure off them," he said, more or less to himself.
You Will Make A Little Prophet, Dhblah, he said."Right. Right. That's all I'm looking for. Just trying to make both ends hummus."X. Tortoises Are To Be Left Alone.Dhblah put his head on one side."Doesn't sing, does it?" he said. "But . . . tortoise necklaces . . . hmm . . . brooches, of course. Tortoiseshel-”XI. NO!"Sorry, sorry. See what you mean. All right. Tortoise statues. Ye-ess. I thought about them. Nice shape. Incidentally, you couldn't make a statue wobble every now and again, could you? Very good for business wobbling statues. The statue of Ossory wobbles eve; Fast of Ossory, reg'lar. By means of a small piston device operated in the basement, it is said. But very good for the prophets, all the
The shade of Vorbis looked around.
percent? How about it? After expenses, of course-”
The Great God Om smiled.
IX. I Think same."
XII. You Make me Laugh, Little Prophet. Sell Your Tortoises, By All Means.
"Tell you the truth," said Dhblah, "I've already drawn a few designs just now . . ."
Om vanished. There was a brief thunderclap. Dhblah looked reflectively at his sketches.
". . . but I suppose I'll have to take the little figure off them," he said, more or less to himself.
You Will Make A Little Prophet, Dhblah, he said."Right. Right. That's all I'm looking for. Just trying to make both ends hummus."X. Tortoises Are To Be Left Alone.Dhblah put his head on one side."Doesn't sing, does it?" he said. "But . . . tortoise necklaces . . . hmm . . . brooches, of course. Tortoiseshel-”XI. NO!"Sorry, sorry. See what you mean. All right. Tortoise statues. Ye-ess. I thought about them. Nice shape. Incidentally, you couldn't make a statue wobble every now and again, could you? Very good for business wobbling statues. The statue of Ossory wobbles eve; Fast of Ossory, reg'lar. By means of a small piston device operated in the basement, it is said. But very good for the prophets, all the
The shade of Vorbis looked around.
Wednesday 15 April 2009
Peter Paul Rubens Rape of the Daughters of Leucippus
Peter Paul Rubens Rape of the Daughters of LeucippusPeter Paul Rubens Garden of LoveWinslow Homer The Herring Net
could see. There was no sense that anyone was looking out through them. Brutha was certain that if he walked away, Vorbis would sit on the cracked flagstones until he very gently fell over. Vorbis' body was present, but the whereabouts of his mind was probably not locatable on any normal atlas.
It was just that, here and now and suddenly, Brutha felt so alone that even Vorbis was good company.
"Why do you "That could use some work, as a parable," said Om sourly.
"This is real life I'm talking about!"
"It's not my fault if people misuse the-”
"It is! It has to be! If you muck up people's minds just because you want them to believe bother with him? He's had thousands of people killed!""Yes, but perhaps he thought you wanted it.""I never said I wanted that.""You didn't care," said Brutha."But I-”"Shut up!"Om's mouth opened in astonishment."You could have helped people," said Brutha. "But all you did was stamp around and roar and try to make people afraid. Like . . . like a man hitting a donkey with a stick. But people like Vorbis made the stick so good, that's all the donkey ends up believing in."
could see. There was no sense that anyone was looking out through them. Brutha was certain that if he walked away, Vorbis would sit on the cracked flagstones until he very gently fell over. Vorbis' body was present, but the whereabouts of his mind was probably not locatable on any normal atlas.
It was just that, here and now and suddenly, Brutha felt so alone that even Vorbis was good company.
"Why do you "That could use some work, as a parable," said Om sourly.
"This is real life I'm talking about!"
"It's not my fault if people misuse the-”
"It is! It has to be! If you muck up people's minds just because you want them to believe bother with him? He's had thousands of people killed!""Yes, but perhaps he thought you wanted it.""I never said I wanted that.""You didn't care," said Brutha."But I-”"Shut up!"Om's mouth opened in astonishment."You could have helped people," said Brutha. "But all you did was stamp around and roar and try to make people afraid. Like . . . like a man hitting a donkey with a stick. But people like Vorbis made the stick so good, that's all the donkey ends up believing in."
Tuesday 14 April 2009
Vincent van Gogh Houses at Auvers
Vincent van Gogh Houses at AuversVincent van Gogh Tree trunksVincent van Gogh Stairway at Auvers
Brutha didn't know what to reply. "That doesn't sound like god talk," he hazarded.
"It's this tortoise brain."
"What?"
"Don't you know helmets crested with plumes that looked like horses' tails gone rogue marched on either side of the column. A few Ephebian citizens watched idly from the roadside. They looked surprisingly like the people at home, and not like two-legged demons at all.
"They're people," he said.
"Full marks for comparative anthropology."anything? Bodies aren't just handy things for storing your mind in. Your shape affects how you think. It's all this morphology that's all over the place.""What?"Om sighed. "If I don't concentrate, I think like a tortoise!""What? You mean slowly?""No! Tortoises are cynics. They always expect the worst.",Why?""I don't know. Because it often happens to them, I suppose."Brutha stared around at Ephebe. Guards with
Brutha didn't know what to reply. "That doesn't sound like god talk," he hazarded.
"It's this tortoise brain."
"What?"
"Don't you know helmets crested with plumes that looked like horses' tails gone rogue marched on either side of the column. A few Ephebian citizens watched idly from the roadside. They looked surprisingly like the people at home, and not like two-legged demons at all.
"They're people," he said.
"Full marks for comparative anthropology."anything? Bodies aren't just handy things for storing your mind in. Your shape affects how you think. It's all this morphology that's all over the place.""What?"Om sighed. "If I don't concentrate, I think like a tortoise!""What? You mean slowly?""No! Tortoises are cynics. They always expect the worst.",Why?""I don't know. Because it often happens to them, I suppose."Brutha stared around at Ephebe. Guards with
Monday 13 April 2009
Andy Warhol Brooklyn Bridge
Andy Warhol Brooklyn BridgeAndy Warhol BananaUnknown Artist The Great Wave off Kanagawa by Katsushika Hokusai
an untrusted possible fellow-conspirator which, if reported, would point the accusing red-hot poker of guilt.
The little beads of sweat on Drunah's forehead, despite the warm breeze, suggested that the secretary was agonizing along thefor Om, the one true God, who shall Trample the Unrighteous with Hooves of Iron!" It wouldn't make a lot of difference, evidence never did once you were in the deep levels where accusation had the status of proof, but at least it might leave one or two inquisitors feeling that they might just have been wrong.
"Of course, the Church has been far less militant in the last century or so," said same lines. But it didn't prove it. And for Fri'it, not dying had become a habit.He clicked his knuckles nervously."A holy war," he said. That was safe enough. The sentence included no verbal clue to what Fri'it thought about the prospect. He hadn't said, "Ye god, not a damn holy war, is the man insane? Some idiot missionary gets himself killed, some man writes some gibberish about the shape of the world, and we have to go to war?" If pressed, and indeed stretched and broken, he could always claim that his meaning had been "At last! A not-to-be-missed opportunity to die gloriously
an untrusted possible fellow-conspirator which, if reported, would point the accusing red-hot poker of guilt.
The little beads of sweat on Drunah's forehead, despite the warm breeze, suggested that the secretary was agonizing along thefor Om, the one true God, who shall Trample the Unrighteous with Hooves of Iron!" It wouldn't make a lot of difference, evidence never did once you were in the deep levels where accusation had the status of proof, but at least it might leave one or two inquisitors feeling that they might just have been wrong.
"Of course, the Church has been far less militant in the last century or so," said same lines. But it didn't prove it. And for Fri'it, not dying had become a habit.He clicked his knuckles nervously."A holy war," he said. That was safe enough. The sentence included no verbal clue to what Fri'it thought about the prospect. He hadn't said, "Ye god, not a damn holy war, is the man insane? Some idiot missionary gets himself killed, some man writes some gibberish about the shape of the world, and we have to go to war?" If pressed, and indeed stretched and broken, he could always claim that his meaning had been "At last! A not-to-be-missed opportunity to die gloriously
George Frederick Watts Charity
George Frederick Watts CharityFrancisco de Goya Nude MajaFrancisco de Goya Clothed Maja
month the abbot and two senior monks go into the cave where the books are kept. It used to be the duty of the abbot alone, but two other reliable monks were included after the unfortunate case of the
59th Abbot, who that all the monks were senior; besides, when you work with Time every day, some of it tends to rub off.
"The place is Omnia," said the abbot, "on the Klatchian coast."
"I remember," said Lu-Tze. "Young fellow called Ossory, wasn't there?"
"Things must be . . . carefully observed," said the abbot. "There are pressures. Free will, predestination . . . . the power of symbols . . . turning-point . . . you know all about this."made a million dollars in small bets before his fellow monks caught up with him.Besides, it's dangerous to go in alone. The sheer concentratedness of History, sleeting past soundlessly out into the world, can be overwhelming. Time is a drug. Too much of it kills you.The 493rd Abbot folded his wrinkled hands and addressed Lu-Tze, one of his most senior monks. The clear air and untroubled life of the secret valley was such
month the abbot and two senior monks go into the cave where the books are kept. It used to be the duty of the abbot alone, but two other reliable monks were included after the unfortunate case of the
59th Abbot, who that all the monks were senior; besides, when you work with Time every day, some of it tends to rub off.
"The place is Omnia," said the abbot, "on the Klatchian coast."
"I remember," said Lu-Tze. "Young fellow called Ossory, wasn't there?"
"Things must be . . . carefully observed," said the abbot. "There are pressures. Free will, predestination . . . . the power of symbols . . . turning-point . . . you know all about this."made a million dollars in small bets before his fellow monks caught up with him.Besides, it's dangerous to go in alone. The sheer concentratedness of History, sleeting past soundlessly out into the world, can be overwhelming. Time is a drug. Too much of it kills you.The 493rd Abbot folded his wrinkled hands and addressed Lu-Tze, one of his most senior monks. The clear air and untroubled life of the secret valley was such
Friday 10 April 2009
Joaquin Sorolla y Bastida Child's Siesta
Joaquin Sorolla y Bastida Child's SiestaJoaquin Sorolla y Bastida Before BathingJoaquin Sorolla y Bastida Beaching the Boat
was asking you.'
'Oh. No. I shouldn't think so. It's just ordinary stone. The right spell and ... phooey.'
'Phooey?'
'Right.'
'Shall we run away again?'
'It's worth a try.'
They made it to another upright wall a few seconds before a randomly spitting ball of yellow fire landed where they had been lying and turned the ground into something awful. The whole area around the tower was a tornado . 'I've been a long way, and I've never been safe.'
Conina sighed and stared at a pile of rubble nearby. She stared at it again. There was something odd there, and she couldn't quite put her finger on it.
'I could rush at them,' said Nijel, vaguely. He stared yearningly at Conina's back.
'Wouldn't work,' said Rincewind. 'Nothing works against magic. Except stronger magic. And then the only thing that beats stronger magic is even stronger magic. And next thing you know...'
'Phooey?' suggested Nijel.of sparkling air.'We need a plan,' said Nijel.'We could try running again,' said Rincewind.'That doesn't solve anything!''Solves most things,' said Rincewind.'How far do we have to go to be safe?' said Conina.Rincewind risked a look around the wall.'Interesting philosophical question,' he said
was asking you.'
'Oh. No. I shouldn't think so. It's just ordinary stone. The right spell and ... phooey.'
'Phooey?'
'Right.'
'Shall we run away again?'
'It's worth a try.'
They made it to another upright wall a few seconds before a randomly spitting ball of yellow fire landed where they had been lying and turned the ground into something awful. The whole area around the tower was a tornado . 'I've been a long way, and I've never been safe.'
Conina sighed and stared at a pile of rubble nearby. She stared at it again. There was something odd there, and she couldn't quite put her finger on it.
'I could rush at them,' said Nijel, vaguely. He stared yearningly at Conina's back.
'Wouldn't work,' said Rincewind. 'Nothing works against magic. Except stronger magic. And then the only thing that beats stronger magic is even stronger magic. And next thing you know...'
'Phooey?' suggested Nijel.of sparkling air.'We need a plan,' said Nijel.'We could try running again,' said Rincewind.'That doesn't solve anything!''Solves most things,' said Rincewind.'How far do we have to go to be safe?' said Conina.Rincewind risked a look around the wall.'Interesting philosophical question,' he said
Wednesday 8 April 2009
Fabian Perez Venice
Fabian Perez VeniceFabian Perez For a Better Life IIIFabian Perez Untitled II
'What?'
'I couldn't help it, they just grabbed whatever they could-’
'The slavers have made off with the hat?'
'Don't you take that tone with me! I wasn't having a quiet sleep at the time-’
Rincewind waved his hands frantically. 'Nonono, don't get excited, I wasn't taking any tone - I want to think about this...'
. He was making a decision. It was his. It belonged to him. Noone was forcing him to make it. Sometimes it seemed that his entire life consisted of getting into trouble because of what other people wanted, but this time he'd made a decision and that was that. He'd get off the boat at Al Khali and find some way of going home. Someone else could save the world, and he wished them luck. He'd made a decision. 'The captain says they'll probably go back to Al Khali,' he heard Conina say. 'There's a place where the criminal element hang out, and we can soon-’'I don't see why we have to do anything,' said Rincewind. 'The hat wanted to keep out the way of the University, and I shouldn't think those slavers ever drop in there for a quick sherry.''You'll let them run off with it?' said Conina, in genuine astonishment.'Well, someone's got to do it. The way I see it, why me?''But you said it's the symbol of wizardry! What wizards all aspire to! You can't just let it go like that!''You watch me.' Rincewind sat back. He felt oddly surprised
'What?'
'I couldn't help it, they just grabbed whatever they could-’
'The slavers have made off with the hat?'
'Don't you take that tone with me! I wasn't having a quiet sleep at the time-’
Rincewind waved his hands frantically. 'Nonono, don't get excited, I wasn't taking any tone - I want to think about this...'
. He was making a decision. It was his. It belonged to him. Noone was forcing him to make it. Sometimes it seemed that his entire life consisted of getting into trouble because of what other people wanted, but this time he'd made a decision and that was that. He'd get off the boat at Al Khali and find some way of going home. Someone else could save the world, and he wished them luck. He'd made a decision. 'The captain says they'll probably go back to Al Khali,' he heard Conina say. 'There's a place where the criminal element hang out, and we can soon-’'I don't see why we have to do anything,' said Rincewind. 'The hat wanted to keep out the way of the University, and I shouldn't think those slavers ever drop in there for a quick sherry.''You'll let them run off with it?' said Conina, in genuine astonishment.'Well, someone's got to do it. The way I see it, why me?''But you said it's the symbol of wizardry! What wizards all aspire to! You can't just let it go like that!''You watch me.' Rincewind sat back. He felt oddly surprised
Andy Warhol Pink Cow
Andy Warhol Pink CowAndy Warhol Ingrid with HatAndy Warhol Flowers 1964
The reason that wizards didn't rule the Disc was quite simple. Hand any two wizards a piece of rope and they would , into the, um, wintry blast, shunning his-’
The oration was interrupted by Gravie blowing his nose.
'It's not winter,' said one of the other wizards flatly, 'and it's quite a warm night.'
'Out into the treacherously changeable spring weather,' snarled Spelter, 'and cursed indeed would be the man who failed, um, at this time-’
'It's nearly summer.'
Carding rubbed the side of his nose thoughtfully.instinctively pull in opposite directions. Something about their genetics or their training left them with an attitude towards mutual co-operation that made an old bull elephant with terminal toothache look like a worker ant.Spelter spread his hands. 'Brothers,' he said again, 'do you not see what has happened? Here is a gifted youth, perhaps raised in isolation out in the untutored, um, countryside, who, feeling the ancient call of the magic in his bones, has journeyed far across tortuous terrain, through who knows what perils, and at last has reached his journey's end, alone and afraid, seeking only the steadying influence of us, his tutors, to shape and guide his talents? Who are we to turn him away
The reason that wizards didn't rule the Disc was quite simple. Hand any two wizards a piece of rope and they would , into the, um, wintry blast, shunning his-’
The oration was interrupted by Gravie blowing his nose.
'It's not winter,' said one of the other wizards flatly, 'and it's quite a warm night.'
'Out into the treacherously changeable spring weather,' snarled Spelter, 'and cursed indeed would be the man who failed, um, at this time-’
'It's nearly summer.'
Carding rubbed the side of his nose thoughtfully.instinctively pull in opposite directions. Something about their genetics or their training left them with an attitude towards mutual co-operation that made an old bull elephant with terminal toothache look like a worker ant.Spelter spread his hands. 'Brothers,' he said again, 'do you not see what has happened? Here is a gifted youth, perhaps raised in isolation out in the untutored, um, countryside, who, feeling the ancient call of the magic in his bones, has journeyed far across tortuous terrain, through who knows what perils, and at last has reached his journey's end, alone and afraid, seeking only the steadying influence of us, his tutors, to shape and guide his talents? Who are we to turn him away
Tuesday 7 April 2009
Rembrandt Saskia As Flora
Rembrandt Saskia As FloraRembrandt Samson And DelilahLord Frederick Leighton Odalisque
You looked a bit lost there, Windle, for a moment,’ said Ridcully.
‘I’m just a bit tired, Archchancellor.’
‘I thought you zombies never slept.’
‘I’m still tired,’ said Windle.
‘You ‘re‘She’s taken your dog for a walk,’ said Mrs Cake.
‘Where’s Ludmilla?’ he said.
Windle smiled awkwardly. Mrs Cake’s premonitions could be very wearing.
‘It’d be nice to know that Lupine was being looked after if I . . . went,’ he said. ‘I wonder, could you take him sure you wouldn’t like us to have another go with the burial and everything? We could do it properly this time.’‘Thank you all the same, but no. I’m just not cut out for the undead life, I think.’ Windle looked at Reg Shoe. ‘Sorry about that. I don’t know how you manage it.’ He grinned apologetically.‘You’ve got every right to be alive or dead, just as you choose,’ said Reg severely.‘One-Man-Bucket says people are dying properly again,’ said Mrs Cake. ‘So you could probably get an appointment.’Windle looked around.
You looked a bit lost there, Windle, for a moment,’ said Ridcully.
‘I’m just a bit tired, Archchancellor.’
‘I thought you zombies never slept.’
‘I’m still tired,’ said Windle.
‘You ‘re‘She’s taken your dog for a walk,’ said Mrs Cake.
‘Where’s Ludmilla?’ he said.
Windle smiled awkwardly. Mrs Cake’s premonitions could be very wearing.
‘It’d be nice to know that Lupine was being looked after if I . . . went,’ he said. ‘I wonder, could you take him sure you wouldn’t like us to have another go with the burial and everything? We could do it properly this time.’‘Thank you all the same, but no. I’m just not cut out for the undead life, I think.’ Windle looked at Reg Shoe. ‘Sorry about that. I don’t know how you manage it.’ He grinned apologetically.‘You’ve got every right to be alive or dead, just as you choose,’ said Reg severely.‘One-Man-Bucket says people are dying properly again,’ said Mrs Cake. ‘So you could probably get an appointment.’Windle looked around.
Monday 6 April 2009
Tom Thomson the jack pine
Tom Thomson the jack pineTom Thomson Jack PineRodney White Nothing to Dream
Archchancellor say, ‘But I’ve always done it! Nothing wrong with a good swear, it keeps the blood flowing. Watch out, Dean, one of the bug -‘ ‘Can’t you say something else?’ shouted the Senior Wrangler, above the buzz the housekeeper always says “Sugar !” ‘ when she drops something,’ he volunteered.
The Archchancellor turned on him.
‘She may say sugar,’ he growled, ‘but what she means, is shi-‘ The wizards ducked. Ridcully managed to stop himself. ‘Oh, darn,’ he said miserably. The swearwords settled amiably on his hat.
‘They like you,’ said the Dean.
Archchancellor say, ‘But I’ve always done it! Nothing wrong with a good swear, it keeps the blood flowing. Watch out, Dean, one of the bug -‘ ‘Can’t you say something else?’ shouted the Senior Wrangler, above the buzz the housekeeper always says “Sugar !” ‘ when she drops something,’ he volunteered.
The Archchancellor turned on him.
‘She may say sugar,’ he growled, ‘but what she means, is shi-‘ The wizards ducked. Ridcully managed to stop himself. ‘Oh, darn,’ he said miserably. The swearwords settled amiably on his hat.
‘They like you,’ said the Dean.
Thursday 2 April 2009
Edward Hopper Hotel Lobby
Edward Hopper Hotel LobbyEdward Hopper Girlie ShowEdward Hopper Early Sunday Morning
Who’s Mrs Cake?’ Then Windle realised what Schleppel had just said.
‘Anyway, you’re a bogeyman.’
‘You never heard of Mrs Cake?’
‘No.’
‘I don’t suppose she’s interested in magic . . . Anyway, Mr Shoe says we shouldn’t talk to her. She exploits dead people, he says.’ ‘How?’
‘She’s a trying to move a heavy object.
He turned his head.
‘ ‘Evening, Mr Poons. Still dead, I see.’
“Evening, Modo. You’ve got the place looking very nice.’
‘There’s someone moving a door along behind youmedium. Well, more a small.’‘Really? All right, let’s go and see her. And . . . Schleppel?’‘Yes?’‘It’s creepy, feeling you standing behind me the whole time.’‘I get very upset if I’m not behind something, Mr Poons.’‘Can’t you lurk behind something else?’‘What do you suggest, Mr Poons?’Windle thought about it.’Yes, it might work,’ he said quietly, ‘if I can find a screwdriver.’Modo the gardener was on his knees mulching the dahlias when he heard a rhythmic scraping and thumping behind him, such as might be made by someone
Who’s Mrs Cake?’ Then Windle realised what Schleppel had just said.
‘Anyway, you’re a bogeyman.’
‘You never heard of Mrs Cake?’
‘No.’
‘I don’t suppose she’s interested in magic . . . Anyway, Mr Shoe says we shouldn’t talk to her. She exploits dead people, he says.’ ‘How?’
‘She’s a trying to move a heavy object.
He turned his head.
‘ ‘Evening, Mr Poons. Still dead, I see.’
“Evening, Modo. You’ve got the place looking very nice.’
‘There’s someone moving a door along behind youmedium. Well, more a small.’‘Really? All right, let’s go and see her. And . . . Schleppel?’‘Yes?’‘It’s creepy, feeling you standing behind me the whole time.’‘I get very upset if I’m not behind something, Mr Poons.’‘Can’t you lurk behind something else?’‘What do you suggest, Mr Poons?’Windle thought about it.’Yes, it might work,’ he said quietly, ‘if I can find a screwdriver.’Modo the gardener was on his knees mulching the dahlias when he heard a rhythmic scraping and thumping behind him, such as might be made by someone
Johannes Vermeer The Kitchen Maid
Johannes Vermeer The Kitchen MaidDiane Romanello Sunset BeachGustav Klimt The Virgins (Le Vergini)
ready to mug a passing badger.’
‘Get tried to nod, even though Lupine’s fist was right under his neck.
‘Yeggg, ‘ he managed.
‘Now, he’s going to take a very good look at you, and if he ever sees you
again -‘
‘I say, hang on,’ murmured Windle.
‘- he’ll come after you. Won’t you, Windle?’
‘Eh? Oh, yes. That’s right. Like a shot, ‘ said Windle, unhappily. ‘Now run along, there’s a good away?’‘Would you like me to tear your throat out?’The man stared eye to yellow eye. He estimated his chances against a seven-foot man with teeth like that. ‘Do I get a choice?’ he said.‘My friend here,’ said Lupine, indicating Windle, ‘is a zombie -‘ ‘Well, I don ‘t know about actual zombie, I think you have to eat some sort of fish and root to be a zom -‘ ‘- and you know what zombies do to people, don’t you?’ The man
ready to mug a passing badger.’
‘Get tried to nod, even though Lupine’s fist was right under his neck.
‘Yeggg, ‘ he managed.
‘Now, he’s going to take a very good look at you, and if he ever sees you
again -‘
‘I say, hang on,’ murmured Windle.
‘- he’ll come after you. Won’t you, Windle?’
‘Eh? Oh, yes. That’s right. Like a shot, ‘ said Windle, unhappily. ‘Now run along, there’s a good away?’‘Would you like me to tear your throat out?’The man stared eye to yellow eye. He estimated his chances against a seven-foot man with teeth like that. ‘Do I get a choice?’ he said.‘My friend here,’ said Lupine, indicating Windle, ‘is a zombie -‘ ‘Well, I don ‘t know about actual zombie, I think you have to eat some sort of fish and root to be a zom -‘ ‘- and you know what zombies do to people, don’t you?’ The man
Wednesday 1 April 2009
Gustave Clarence Rodolphe Boulanger La Fille De Ferme
Gustave Clarence Rodolphe Boulanger La Fille De FermeSalvador Dali Living Still LifePeder Mork Monsted A River Landscape in SpringtimeGuillaume Seignac The Awakening of PsycheRudolf Ernst The Perfume Maker
. Well, he was tired. That was a start. But sleeping meant letting go of control, and he wasn’t too certain that all the systems were fully functional yet.
fixed to a bracket on the wall. It was such a familiar piece of furniture that Windle hadn’t really seen it for fifty years.
It was coming unscrewed. It spun around slowly, squeaking once a turn.
After half a dozen turns it fell off and clattered to the floor.Anyway, when you got right down to it, did he have to sleep at all? After all, he was dead. That was supposed to be just like sleeping, only even more so. They said that dying was just like going to sleep, although of course if you weren’t careful bits of you could rot and drop off. What were you supposed to do when you slept, anyway? Dreaming . . . wasn’t that all to do with sorting out your memories, or something? How did you go about it?He stared at the ceiling.‘I never thought being dead would be so much trouble, ‘ he said aloud.After a while a faint but insistent squeaking noise made him turn his head. Over the fireplace was an ornamental candlestick,
. Well, he was tired. That was a start. But sleeping meant letting go of control, and he wasn’t too certain that all the systems were fully functional yet.
fixed to a bracket on the wall. It was such a familiar piece of furniture that Windle hadn’t really seen it for fifty years.
It was coming unscrewed. It spun around slowly, squeaking once a turn.
After half a dozen turns it fell off and clattered to the floor.Anyway, when you got right down to it, did he have to sleep at all? After all, he was dead. That was supposed to be just like sleeping, only even more so. They said that dying was just like going to sleep, although of course if you weren’t careful bits of you could rot and drop off. What were you supposed to do when you slept, anyway? Dreaming . . . wasn’t that all to do with sorting out your memories, or something? How did you go about it?He stared at the ceiling.‘I never thought being dead would be so much trouble, ‘ he said aloud.After a while a faint but insistent squeaking noise made him turn his head. Over the fireplace was an ornamental candlestick,
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