Andrea del Sarto Madonna of the HarpiesSalvador Dali Equestrian Fantasy - Portrait of Lady DunnSalvador Dali Cruxifixion (Hypercubic Body)John Singleton Copley The Tribute Money
natural at counting to two!'
'I'm a nat'ral at counting to two!'
'If you can count to two, you can count to anything!'
'If I can count to two, I can count to anything!'
And then the world is your mollusc!'
'My mollusc! What's a mollusc?'
Angua had to scurry to keep up with Carrot.
'Aren't we going to look at the opera house?' she said.
'Later. Anyone
Sham Harga's coffee was like molten lead, but it had this in its favour: when you'd drunk it, there was this overwhelming feeling of relief that you'd got to the bottom of the cup.
'That,' said Vimes, 'was a bloody awful cup of coffee, Sham.'
'Right,' said Harga.
'I mean I've drunk a lot of bad coffee in my time but that, that was like having a saw dragged across my tongue. How long'd it been boiling?'
'What's today's date?' said Harga, cleaning a glass. He was generally cleaning glasses. No-one ever found out what happened to the clean ones.
August the fifteenth.'
'What year?'
Sham Harga smiled, or at least moved various muscles around his mouth. Sham Harga had run a successful eatery for many years by always smiling, never extending credit, and
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Paul Cezanne Still Life with Flowers and Fruit
Paul Cezanne Still Life with Flowers and FruitPaul Cezanne Still Life with Apples and OrangesPaul Cezanne Still Life with a Skull
could call it water.
If you could still call it a dwarf.
They looked down.
'You know,' said Detritus, after a while, 'that look like that dwarf who make weapons in Rime Street.'
'Bjorn from his paperwork. 'You were commendably quick.'
'Was I?'
'You got my message?' said Lord Vetinari.
'No, sir. I've been . . . occupied.'
'Indeed. And what could occupy you?'
'Someone has killed Mr Hammerhock, sir. A big man in the dwarf community. He's been . . . shot with something, some kind of siege weapon or something, and dumped in the river. We've just fished him out. I was on the way to tell his wife. I think he lives in Treacle Street. And then I thought, since I was passing . . .'
'This is very unfortunate.'Hammerhock?' said Cuddy.'That the one, yeah.''It looks a bit like him,' Cuddy conceded, still talking in a cold flat voice, 'but not exactly like him.''What d'you mean?' said Angua.'Because Mr Hammerhock,' said Cuddy, 'didn't have such a great big hole where his chest should be.' Doesn't he ever sleep? thought Vimes. Doesn't the bloody man ever get his head down? Isn't there a room somewhere with a black dressing gown hanging on the door?He knocked on the door of the Oblong Office.'Ah, captain,' said the Patrician, looking up
'Certainly it was for Mr Hammerhock,' said Vimes.
The Patrician leaned back and stared at Vimes.
could call it water.
If you could still call it a dwarf.
They looked down.
'You know,' said Detritus, after a while, 'that look like that dwarf who make weapons in Rime Street.'
'Bjorn from his paperwork. 'You were commendably quick.'
'Was I?'
'You got my message?' said Lord Vetinari.
'No, sir. I've been . . . occupied.'
'Indeed. And what could occupy you?'
'Someone has killed Mr Hammerhock, sir. A big man in the dwarf community. He's been . . . shot with something, some kind of siege weapon or something, and dumped in the river. We've just fished him out. I was on the way to tell his wife. I think he lives in Treacle Street. And then I thought, since I was passing . . .'
'This is very unfortunate.'Hammerhock?' said Cuddy.'That the one, yeah.''It looks a bit like him,' Cuddy conceded, still talking in a cold flat voice, 'but not exactly like him.''What d'you mean?' said Angua.'Because Mr Hammerhock,' said Cuddy, 'didn't have such a great big hole where his chest should be.' Doesn't he ever sleep? thought Vimes. Doesn't the bloody man ever get his head down? Isn't there a room somewhere with a black dressing gown hanging on the door?He knocked on the door of the Oblong Office.'Ah, captain,' said the Patrician, looking up
'Certainly it was for Mr Hammerhock,' said Vimes.
The Patrician leaned back and stared at Vimes.
Sunday, April 26, 2009
John William Waterhouse Waterhouse Narcissus
John William Waterhouse Waterhouse NarcissusJohn William Waterhouse The Lady of ShalottJohn William Waterhouse waterhouse OpheliaJohn William Waterhouse Hylas and the Nymphs
because dwarfs are very conscientious many of them sent money home. This made dwarf mail just about as safe as anything, since It was old, good furniture, but this wasn't the place for it. It belonged in high echoing halls. Here, it was crammed. There were dark oak chairs. There were long sideboards. There was even a suit of armour. There was barely room for the half dozen or so people who sat at the huge table. There was barely room for the table.
A clock ticked in the shadows.
The heavy velvet curtains were drawn, even though there was still plenty of daylight left in the sky. The air was stifling, both from the heat of the day and the candles in the magic lantern.
The only illumination was from the screen which, at that moment, was portraying a very their mail was closely guarded. Dwarfs are very attached to gold. Any highwayman demanding 'Your money or your life' had better bring a folding chair and packed lunch and a book to read while the debate goes on.Then Carrot washed his face, donned his leather shirt and trousers and chainmail, buckled on his breastplate and, with his helmet under his arm, stepped out cheerfully, ready to face whatever the future would bring. This was another room, somewhere else.It was a poky room, the plaster walls crumbling, the ceilings sagging like the underside of a fat man's bed. And it was made even more crowded by the furniture.
because dwarfs are very conscientious many of them sent money home. This made dwarf mail just about as safe as anything, since It was old, good furniture, but this wasn't the place for it. It belonged in high echoing halls. Here, it was crammed. There were dark oak chairs. There were long sideboards. There was even a suit of armour. There was barely room for the half dozen or so people who sat at the huge table. There was barely room for the table.
A clock ticked in the shadows.
The heavy velvet curtains were drawn, even though there was still plenty of daylight left in the sky. The air was stifling, both from the heat of the day and the candles in the magic lantern.
The only illumination was from the screen which, at that moment, was portraying a very their mail was closely guarded. Dwarfs are very attached to gold. Any highwayman demanding 'Your money or your life' had better bring a folding chair and packed lunch and a book to read while the debate goes on.Then Carrot washed his face, donned his leather shirt and trousers and chainmail, buckled on his breastplate and, with his helmet under his arm, stepped out cheerfully, ready to face whatever the future would bring. This was another room, somewhere else.It was a poky room, the plaster walls crumbling, the ceilings sagging like the underside of a fat man's bed. And it was made even more crowded by the furniture.
Friday, April 24, 2009
Leonardo da Vinci Madonna with Yarnwinder
Leonardo da Vinci Madonna with YarnwinderLeonardo da Vinci Madonna LittaLeonardo da Vinci Female HeadLeonardo da Vinci Annunciation
certainly, I’ll have your whelk! How do we do it?
Volume!”
Nanny Ogg and Casanunda walked in silence back to the cave entrance and the flight of steps. Finally, as they stepped out into the night air, the dwarf said, “Wow.”
“It leaks out even up here,” said Nanny. “Very mackko place, this.”
“But I mean, good grief—“
“He’s brighter than 257
Terry Pratchett
all be over, and people’ll look up at the skyline at sunset and there he’ll be.”
Casanunda found himself turning to look at the sunset beyond the mound, half-imagining the huge figure she is. Or more lazy,” said Nanny.“He’s going to wait it out.”“But he was—““They can look like whatever they want, to us,” said Nanny. “We see the shape we’ve given ‘em.” She let the rock drop back, and dusted off her hands.“But why should he want to stop her?”“Well, he’s her husband, after all. He can’t stand her. It’s what you might call an open marriage.”“Wait what out?” said Casanunda, looking around to see if there were anymore elves.“Oh, you know,” said Nanny, waving a hand. “All thisiron and books and clockwork and universities and readingand suchlike. He reckons it’ll all pass, see. And one day it’ll
certainly, I’ll have your whelk! How do we do it?
Volume!”
Nanny Ogg and Casanunda walked in silence back to the cave entrance and the flight of steps. Finally, as they stepped out into the night air, the dwarf said, “Wow.”
“It leaks out even up here,” said Nanny. “Very mackko place, this.”
“But I mean, good grief—“
“He’s brighter than 257
Terry Pratchett
all be over, and people’ll look up at the skyline at sunset and there he’ll be.”
Casanunda found himself turning to look at the sunset beyond the mound, half-imagining the huge figure she is. Or more lazy,” said Nanny.“He’s going to wait it out.”“But he was—““They can look like whatever they want, to us,” said Nanny. “We see the shape we’ve given ‘em.” She let the rock drop back, and dusted off her hands.“But why should he want to stop her?”“Well, he’s her husband, after all. He can’t stand her. It’s what you might call an open marriage.”“Wait what out?” said Casanunda, looking around to see if there were anymore elves.“Oh, you know,” said Nanny, waving a hand. “All thisiron and books and clockwork and universities and readingand suchlike. He reckons it’ll all pass, see. And one day it’ll
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Andrew Atroshenko What a Wonderful Life
Andrew Atroshenko What a Wonderful LifeAndrew Atroshenko Just for LoveEdward Hopper Two on the AisleEdward Hopper Corn Hill Truro Cape Cod
And now I shall circulate, so that people don’t talk and ruin your reputation,” said Casanunda, bowing and kissing Nanny Ogg’s hand.
Her mouth dropped open. No one had ever kissed her hand before, either, and certainly no one had ever worried about her “You’re not listening to a word I say, are you?”
“What?”
“You could at least find out why Magrat isn’t down here.”
l i.e., far enough so’s not to look like you’re intruding on the conversa-tion, but close enough to get a pretty good idea of what is going on.
reputation, least of all Nanny Ogg.As the world’s second greatest lover bustled off to accost a countess. Granny Weatherwax—who had been watching from a discreet distance*—said, in an amiable voice: “You haven’t got the morals of a cat, Gytha Ogg.”“Now, Esme, you know that’s not true.”“All right. You have got the morals of a cat, then.”“That’s better.”Nanny Ogg patted her mass of white curls and won-dered if she had time to go home and put her corsets on.“We must stay on our guard, Gytha.”“Yes, yes.”“Can’t let other considerations turn our heads.”“No, no.”
And now I shall circulate, so that people don’t talk and ruin your reputation,” said Casanunda, bowing and kissing Nanny Ogg’s hand.
Her mouth dropped open. No one had ever kissed her hand before, either, and certainly no one had ever worried about her “You’re not listening to a word I say, are you?”
“What?”
“You could at least find out why Magrat isn’t down here.”
l i.e., far enough so’s not to look like you’re intruding on the conversa-tion, but close enough to get a pretty good idea of what is going on.
reputation, least of all Nanny Ogg.As the world’s second greatest lover bustled off to accost a countess. Granny Weatherwax—who had been watching from a discreet distance*—said, in an amiable voice: “You haven’t got the morals of a cat, Gytha Ogg.”“Now, Esme, you know that’s not true.”“All right. You have got the morals of a cat, then.”“That’s better.”Nanny Ogg patted her mass of white curls and won-dered if she had time to go home and put her corsets on.“We must stay on our guard, Gytha.”“Yes, yes.”“Can’t let other considerations turn our heads.”“No, no.”
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Cao Yong GIRL WITH MUSICIAN
Cao Yong GIRL WITH MUSICIANCao Yong GARDEN SPLENDORCao Yong GARDEN BEAUTIES
Terry Pratchett
so menacingly at words like “vitamins” that she’d made an excuse to back out of the kitchen.
At the moment“Sorry?”
“What?”
“What?”
Finally Magrat got up and waited while Spriggins, purple in the face with the effort, moved her chair down toward Verence. She could have done it herself, but it wasn’t what queens did. she was making do with an apple. The cook knew about apples. They were big roasted floury things scooped out and filled with raisins and cream. So Magrat had resorted to stealing a raw one from the apple loft. She was also plotting to find out where the carrots were kept.Verence was distantly visible behind the silver candle-sticks and a pile of account books.Occasionally they looked up and smiled at each other. At least, it looked like a smile but it was a little hard to be sure at this distance.Apparently he’d just said something.Magrat cupped her hands around her mouth.“Pardon?”“We need a—“
Terry Pratchett
so menacingly at words like “vitamins” that she’d made an excuse to back out of the kitchen.
At the moment“Sorry?”
“What?”
“What?”
Finally Magrat got up and waited while Spriggins, purple in the face with the effort, moved her chair down toward Verence. She could have done it herself, but it wasn’t what queens did. she was making do with an apple. The cook knew about apples. They were big roasted floury things scooped out and filled with raisins and cream. So Magrat had resorted to stealing a raw one from the apple loft. She was also plotting to find out where the carrots were kept.Verence was distantly visible behind the silver candle-sticks and a pile of account books.Occasionally they looked up and smiled at each other. At least, it looked like a smile but it was a little hard to be sure at this distance.Apparently he’d just said something.Magrat cupped her hands around her mouth.“Pardon?”“We need a—“
Monday, April 20, 2009
Pablo Picasso BULLFIGHT DEATH OF THE TOREADOR La corrida
Pablo Picasso BULLFIGHT DEATH OF THE TOREADOR La corridaAlbert Bierstadt Quiet PondAlbert Bierstadt A Quiet lakeFabian Perez Waiting for the romance to come
Yes’m. But you’re going to be queen. So me mam told me
I was to be respectful,” said Millie, still curtsying nervously
“Oh. Well. All right, then. Where are my clothes?”
“Got ‘em here, your pre-majesty.”
“They’re not mine. And please stop going up and down all the time. I feel a bit sick.”
“The king ordered ‘em from Sto Helit special, m’m.”
“Did he, eh? How long ago?”
“Dunno, m’m.”
He knew I was Outside, on the battlements, the guard changed. In fact
43
Terry Pratchett
he changed into his gardening apron and went off to hoe the beans. Inside, there was considerable sartorial discussioncoming home, thought Magrat. How?What’s going on here?There was a good deal more lace than Magrat was used to, but that was, as it were, the icing on the cake. Magrat normally wore a simple dress with not much underneath it except Magrat. Ladies of quality couldn’t get away with that kind of thing. Millie had been provided with a sort of techni-cal diagram, but it wasn’t much help.They studied it for some time.“This is a standard queen outfit, then?”“Couldn’t say, m’m. I think his majesty just sent ‘em a lot of money and said to send you everything.” / They spread out the bits on the floor.“Is this the pantoffle?”
Yes’m. But you’re going to be queen. So me mam told me
I was to be respectful,” said Millie, still curtsying nervously
“Oh. Well. All right, then. Where are my clothes?”
“Got ‘em here, your pre-majesty.”
“They’re not mine. And please stop going up and down all the time. I feel a bit sick.”
“The king ordered ‘em from Sto Helit special, m’m.”
“Did he, eh? How long ago?”
“Dunno, m’m.”
He knew I was Outside, on the battlements, the guard changed. In fact
43
Terry Pratchett
he changed into his gardening apron and went off to hoe the beans. Inside, there was considerable sartorial discussioncoming home, thought Magrat. How?What’s going on here?There was a good deal more lace than Magrat was used to, but that was, as it were, the icing on the cake. Magrat normally wore a simple dress with not much underneath it except Magrat. Ladies of quality couldn’t get away with that kind of thing. Millie had been provided with a sort of techni-cal diagram, but it wasn’t much help.They studied it for some time.“This is a standard queen outfit, then?”“Couldn’t say, m’m. I think his majesty just sent ‘em a lot of money and said to send you everything.” / They spread out the bits on the floor.“Is this the pantoffle?”
Friday, April 17, 2009
Edward Hopper Morning in a City
Edward Hopper Morning in a CityEdward Hopper High NoonEdward Hopper Four Lane Road
were sitting in the Cenobiarch's garden. Far overhead an eagle circled, looking for anything that wasn't a tortoise.
"I like the idea of democracy. You have to have someone everyone distrusts," said Brutha. "That way, everyone's happy. Think about it. Simony?"
"Yes?"
"I'm making you head of the Quisition."
"What?"
"I want it stopped. And I want it stopped the hard way."
"You want me to kill all the inquisitors? Right!"
"No. That's the easy way. I want as few deaths as possible. Those who enjoyed it, perhaps. But only those. Now . . . where's Urn?"keep here."
"Plenty of room when we burn the Septateuch," said Simony.
"No burning of anything. You have to take a step at a time," said Brutha. He looked out at the shimmering line of the desert. Funny. He'd been as happy as he'd ever been in the desert.
"And then . . ." he began.
"Yes?"
Brutha lowered his eyes, to the farmlands and villages around the CitadelThe Moving Turtle was still on the beach, wheels buried in the sand blown about by the storm. Urn had been too embarrassed to try to unearth it."The last I saw, he was tinkering with the door mechanism," said Didactylos. "Never happier than when he's tinkering with things.""Yes. We shall have to find things to keep him occupied. Irrigation. Architecture. That sort of thing.""And what are you going to do?" said Simony."I've got to copy out the Library," said Brutha."But you can't read and write," said Didactylos."No. But I can see and draw. Two copies. One to
were sitting in the Cenobiarch's garden. Far overhead an eagle circled, looking for anything that wasn't a tortoise.
"I like the idea of democracy. You have to have someone everyone distrusts," said Brutha. "That way, everyone's happy. Think about it. Simony?"
"Yes?"
"I'm making you head of the Quisition."
"What?"
"I want it stopped. And I want it stopped the hard way."
"You want me to kill all the inquisitors? Right!"
"No. That's the easy way. I want as few deaths as possible. Those who enjoyed it, perhaps. But only those. Now . . . where's Urn?"keep here."
"Plenty of room when we burn the Septateuch," said Simony.
"No burning of anything. You have to take a step at a time," said Brutha. He looked out at the shimmering line of the desert. Funny. He'd been as happy as he'd ever been in the desert.
"And then . . ." he began.
"Yes?"
Brutha lowered his eyes, to the farmlands and villages around the CitadelThe Moving Turtle was still on the beach, wheels buried in the sand blown about by the storm. Urn had been too embarrassed to try to unearth it."The last I saw, he was tinkering with the door mechanism," said Didactylos. "Never happier than when he's tinkering with things.""Yes. We shall have to find things to keep him occupied. Irrigation. Architecture. That sort of thing.""And what are you going to do?" said Simony."I've got to copy out the Library," said Brutha."But you can't read and write," said Didactylos."No. But I can see and draw. Two copies. One to
Thursday, April 16, 2009
Tamara de Lempicka Two Friends
Tamara de Lempicka Two FriendsTamara de Lempicka The Green TurbanTamara de Lempicka Summer
echoes of his own soul. And out of the distant echoes he would forge a Book of Vorbis, and Brutha suspected he knew what the commandments would be. There would be talk of holy wars and blood and crusades and blood and piety and blood., and Om spoke to one of them.
It had never occurred to Brutha like that before.
Om had spoken to him. Admittedly, he hadn't said the things that the Great Prophets said he said. Perhaps he'd never said things like that . . .
He worked his way along to the end of the row. Then he tidied up the bean vines.Brutha got up, feeling like a fool. But the thoughts wouldn't go away.He was a bishop, but he didn't know what bishops did. He'd only seen them in the distance, drifting along like earthbound clouds. There was only one thing he felt he knew how to do.Some spotty boy was hoeing the vegetable garden. He looked at Brutha in amazement when he took the hoe, and was stupid enough to try to hang on to it for a moment."I am a bishop, you know," said Brutha. "Anyway, you aren't doing it right. Go and do something else."Brutha jabbed viciously at the weeds around the seedlings. Only away a few weeks and already there was a haze of green on the soil.You're a bishop. For being good. And here's the iron turtle. In case you're bad. Because . . .. . . there were two people in the desert
echoes of his own soul. And out of the distant echoes he would forge a Book of Vorbis, and Brutha suspected he knew what the commandments would be. There would be talk of holy wars and blood and crusades and blood and piety and blood., and Om spoke to one of them.
It had never occurred to Brutha like that before.
Om had spoken to him. Admittedly, he hadn't said the things that the Great Prophets said he said. Perhaps he'd never said things like that . . .
He worked his way along to the end of the row. Then he tidied up the bean vines.Brutha got up, feeling like a fool. But the thoughts wouldn't go away.He was a bishop, but he didn't know what bishops did. He'd only seen them in the distance, drifting along like earthbound clouds. There was only one thing he felt he knew how to do.Some spotty boy was hoeing the vegetable garden. He looked at Brutha in amazement when he took the hoe, and was stupid enough to try to hang on to it for a moment."I am a bishop, you know," said Brutha. "Anyway, you aren't doing it right. Go and do something else."Brutha jabbed viciously at the weeds around the seedlings. Only away a few weeks and already there was a haze of green on the soil.You're a bishop. For being good. And here's the iron turtle. In case you're bad. Because . . .. . . there were two people in the desert
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Paul Cezanne Still Life with Flowers and Fruit
Paul Cezanne Still Life with Flowers and FruitPaul Cezanne Still Life with Apples and OrangesPaul Cezanne Still Life with a Skull
Um. He hasn't got much of a sense of humor, either."
"You're Omnian, by the sound of it." Yes."
"Here to talk about the treaty?"
"I do the listening."
"And what do you want to know about gods?"
Brutha appeared to be listening.
Eventually he said: "How they start. How they grow. And what happens to them afterwards."
Didactylos put the tortoise into Brutha's hands.
"Costs money, that kind of thinking," he said.
"Let me know when we've used more than fifty-two obols' worth," said Brutha. Didactylos grinned.
"Looks like you can think for yourself," he said. "Got a good memory?"
"No. Not exactly a good one."
"Right? Right. Come on into the Library. It's got an earthed copper roof, you know. Gods really hate that sort of thing."
Didactylos of illusory words. Spotters' guides to invisible things. Wild thesauri in the Lost Reading Room. A library so big that it distorts reality and has opened gateways to all other lireached down beside him and picked up a rusty iron lantern.Brutha looked up at the big white building."That's the Library?" he said."Yes," said Didactylos. "That's why it's got LIBRVM carved over the door in such big letters. But a scribe like you'd know that, of course." The Library of Ephebe was-before it burned down-the second biggest on the Disc.Not as big as the library in Unseen University, of course, but that library had one or two advantages on account of its magical nature. No other library anywhere, for example, has a whole gallery of unwritten books-books that would have been written if the author hadn't been eaten by an alligator around chapter 1, and so on. Atlases of imaginary places. Dictionaries braries, everywhere and everywhen . . .
And so unlike the Library at Ephebe, with its four or five hundred
Um. He hasn't got much of a sense of humor, either."
"You're Omnian, by the sound of it." Yes."
"Here to talk about the treaty?"
"I do the listening."
"And what do you want to know about gods?"
Brutha appeared to be listening.
Eventually he said: "How they start. How they grow. And what happens to them afterwards."
Didactylos put the tortoise into Brutha's hands.
"Costs money, that kind of thinking," he said.
"Let me know when we've used more than fifty-two obols' worth," said Brutha. Didactylos grinned.
"Looks like you can think for yourself," he said. "Got a good memory?"
"No. Not exactly a good one."
"Right? Right. Come on into the Library. It's got an earthed copper roof, you know. Gods really hate that sort of thing."
Didactylos of illusory words. Spotters' guides to invisible things. Wild thesauri in the Lost Reading Room. A library so big that it distorts reality and has opened gateways to all other lireached down beside him and picked up a rusty iron lantern.Brutha looked up at the big white building."That's the Library?" he said."Yes," said Didactylos. "That's why it's got LIBRVM carved over the door in such big letters. But a scribe like you'd know that, of course." The Library of Ephebe was-before it burned down-the second biggest on the Disc.Not as big as the library in Unseen University, of course, but that library had one or two advantages on account of its magical nature. No other library anywhere, for example, has a whole gallery of unwritten books-books that would have been written if the author hadn't been eaten by an alligator around chapter 1, and so on. Atlases of imaginary places. Dictionaries braries, everywhere and everywhen . . .
And so unlike the Library at Ephebe, with its four or five hundred
Monday, April 13, 2009
Thomas Kinkade Boston
Thomas Kinkade BostonEdward Hopper Soir BleuEdward Hopper Cape Cod MorningAmedeo Modigliani the Reclining Nude
Brutha looked back hurriedly.
Vorbis glanced at his colleagues. The stocky man nodded. The fat man shrugged.
"Brutha," said Vorbis, "return to your dormitory now. Before you go, one of the servants will give you something to eat, and a drink. You will report to the Gate of Horns at dawn tomorrow, and you will come with me to Ephebe. You know about the delegation to Ephebe?"
Brutha and-Brutha?"
"Yes, lord?"
"You will forget this meeting. You have not been in this room. You have not seen us here."
Brutha gaped at him. This was nonsense. You couldn't forget things just by wishing. Some things forgot themselves-the things in those locked rooms-but that was because of some mechanism he could not access. What did this man mean?
"Yes, lord," he said.shook his head."Perhaps there is no reason why you should," said Vorbis. "We are going to discuss political matters with the Tyrant. Do you understand?"Brutha shook his head."Good," said Vorbis. "Very good. Oh,
It seemed the simplest way.
Brutha looked back hurriedly.
Vorbis glanced at his colleagues. The stocky man nodded. The fat man shrugged.
"Brutha," said Vorbis, "return to your dormitory now. Before you go, one of the servants will give you something to eat, and a drink. You will report to the Gate of Horns at dawn tomorrow, and you will come with me to Ephebe. You know about the delegation to Ephebe?"
Brutha and-Brutha?"
"Yes, lord?"
"You will forget this meeting. You have not been in this room. You have not seen us here."
Brutha gaped at him. This was nonsense. You couldn't forget things just by wishing. Some things forgot themselves-the things in those locked rooms-but that was because of some mechanism he could not access. What did this man mean?
"Yes, lord," he said.shook his head."Perhaps there is no reason why you should," said Vorbis. "We are going to discuss political matters with the Tyrant. Do you understand?"Brutha shook his head."Good," said Vorbis. "Very good. Oh,
It seemed the simplest way.
Edward Hopper Hotel Room
Edward Hopper Hotel RoomEdward Hopper Hotel LobbyEdward Hopper Girlie Show
'Speak up,' said Creosote.
'The Ice Giants,' Nijel repeated loudly, with a trace of irritation. 'The gods keep them imprisoned, see. At the Hub. But at the white as the snow.
'Being buried under a thousand-foot ice sheet sounds awfully like it, anyway,' said the genie. He reached forward and snatched his lamp out of Nijel's hands.
'Mucho apologies,' he said, 'but it's time to liquidise my assets in this reality. See you around. Or something.' He vanished up to the waist, and then with a faint last cry of 'Shame about lunch', disappeared entirely.
The three riders peered through the veils of driving snow towards the end of the world they'll break free at last, and ride out on their dreadful glaciers and regain their ancient domination, crushing out the flames of civilisation until the world lies naked and frozen under the terrible cold stars until Time itself freezes over. Or something like that, apparently.''But it isn't time for the Apocralypse,' said Conina desperately. 'I mean, a dreadful ruler has to arise, there must be a terrible war, the four dreadful horsemen have to ride, and then the Dungeon Dimensions will break into the world-’She stopped, her face nearly as
'Speak up,' said Creosote.
'The Ice Giants,' Nijel repeated loudly, with a trace of irritation. 'The gods keep them imprisoned, see. At the Hub. But at the white as the snow.
'Being buried under a thousand-foot ice sheet sounds awfully like it, anyway,' said the genie. He reached forward and snatched his lamp out of Nijel's hands.
'Mucho apologies,' he said, 'but it's time to liquidise my assets in this reality. See you around. Or something.' He vanished up to the waist, and then with a faint last cry of 'Shame about lunch', disappeared entirely.
The three riders peered through the veils of driving snow towards the end of the world they'll break free at last, and ride out on their dreadful glaciers and regain their ancient domination, crushing out the flames of civilisation until the world lies naked and frozen under the terrible cold stars until Time itself freezes over. Or something like that, apparently.''But it isn't time for the Apocralypse,' said Conina desperately. 'I mean, a dreadful ruler has to arise, there must be a terrible war, the four dreadful horsemen have to ride, and then the Dungeon Dimensions will break into the world-’She stopped, her face nearly as
Friday, April 10, 2009
Benjamin Williams Leader Derwentwater
Benjamin Williams Leader DerwentwaterBenjamin Williams Leader A Fine Day on the ThamesAlexei Alexeivich Harlamoff The Flower Girls
then drifted gently towards the doors of the tower.
Where they touched the white marble it turned black and crumbled.
As the his arms, untangled his hands from the lace on his sleeves, and sent a flare screaming across the gap.
It struck Abrim in the chest and rebounded in a gout of incandescence, but when the blue after-images allowed Rincewind to see he saw Abrim, unharmed.
His opponent frantically patted out the last of the little fires in his own clothing and remains drifted to the ground a wizard stepped through and looked Abrim up and down.Rincewind was used to the dressy ways of wizards, but this one was really impressive, his robe so padded and crenellated and buttressed in fantastic folds and creases that it had probably been designed by an architect. The matching hat looked like a wedding cake that had collided intimately with a Christmas tree.The actual face, peering through the small gap between the baroque collar and the filigreed fringe of the brim, was a bit of a disappointment. At some time in the past it had thought its appearance would be improved by a thin, scruffy moustache. It had been wrong.'That was our bloody door!' it said. 'You're really going to regret this!'Abrim folded his arms.This seemed to infuriate the other wizard. He flung up
then drifted gently towards the doors of the tower.
Where they touched the white marble it turned black and crumbled.
As the his arms, untangled his hands from the lace on his sleeves, and sent a flare screaming across the gap.
It struck Abrim in the chest and rebounded in a gout of incandescence, but when the blue after-images allowed Rincewind to see he saw Abrim, unharmed.
His opponent frantically patted out the last of the little fires in his own clothing and remains drifted to the ground a wizard stepped through and looked Abrim up and down.Rincewind was used to the dressy ways of wizards, but this one was really impressive, his robe so padded and crenellated and buttressed in fantastic folds and creases that it had probably been designed by an architect. The matching hat looked like a wedding cake that had collided intimately with a Christmas tree.The actual face, peering through the small gap between the baroque collar and the filigreed fringe of the brim, was a bit of a disappointment. At some time in the past it had thought its appearance would be improved by a thin, scruffy moustache. It had been wrong.'That was our bloody door!' it said. 'You're really going to regret this!'Abrim folded his arms.This seemed to infuriate the other wizard. He flung up
Thursday, April 9, 2009
Vincent van Gogh Road with Cypresses
Vincent van Gogh Road with CypressesVincent van Gogh Peach Tree in BlossomVincent van Gogh Orchard in Blossom
The mud around the egg began to bubble.
And exploded.
The ground inexorably, carrying the three high above the treetops.
The rooftops of the University went past and fell away below them. Ankh-Morpork spread out like a map, the river a trapped snake, the plains a misty blur. Spelter's ears popped, but the climb went on, into the clouds.
They emerged drenched and cold into blistering sunlight with the cloud cover spreading away in every direction. Other towers were rising around them, glinting painfully in the sharpness of the daypeeled back like lemon rind. Gouts of steaming mud spattered the wizards as they dived for the cover of the trees. Only Coin, Spelter and Carding were left to watch the sparkling white building arise from the meadow, grass and dirt pouring off it. Other towers erupted from the ground behind them; buttresses grew through the air, linking tower with tower.Spelter whimpered when the soil flowed away from around his feet, and was replaced by flagstones flecked with silver. He lurched as the floor rose
The mud around the egg began to bubble.
And exploded.
The ground inexorably, carrying the three high above the treetops.
The rooftops of the University went past and fell away below them. Ankh-Morpork spread out like a map, the river a trapped snake, the plains a misty blur. Spelter's ears popped, but the climb went on, into the clouds.
They emerged drenched and cold into blistering sunlight with the cloud cover spreading away in every direction. Other towers were rising around them, glinting painfully in the sharpness of the daypeeled back like lemon rind. Gouts of steaming mud spattered the wizards as they dived for the cover of the trees. Only Coin, Spelter and Carding were left to watch the sparkling white building arise from the meadow, grass and dirt pouring off it. Other towers erupted from the ground behind them; buttresses grew through the air, linking tower with tower.Spelter whimpered when the soil flowed away from around his feet, and was replaced by flagstones flecked with silver. He lurched as the floor rose
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
Pierre Auguste Renoir At The Theatre
Pierre Auguste Renoir At The TheatrePierre Auguste Renoir The Large BathersAlexandre Cabanel Phedre
sky was pale blue tinted with gold, with a few high wisps of fluffy cloud glowing pinkly in the lengthening light. The ancient chestnut trees in the quadrangle were in full bloom. From an open window came the sound of a student wizard to suggest uncontrollable terror. The stones themselves were frightened.
He looked down in horror at a faint clinking noise. An ornamental drain cover fell backwards and one of the University's rats poked its whiskers out. It gave Rincewind a desperate look as it scrambled up and fled past him, followed by dozens of its tribe. Some of them were wearing clothes but that wasn't unusual for the University, where the high level of background magic does strange things to genes.practising the violin, rather badly. It was not what you would call ominous.Rincewind leaned against the warm stonework. And screamed.The building was shuddering. He could feel it come up through his hand and along his arms, a faint rhythmic sensation at just the right frequency
sky was pale blue tinted with gold, with a few high wisps of fluffy cloud glowing pinkly in the lengthening light. The ancient chestnut trees in the quadrangle were in full bloom. From an open window came the sound of a student wizard to suggest uncontrollable terror. The stones themselves were frightened.
He looked down in horror at a faint clinking noise. An ornamental drain cover fell backwards and one of the University's rats poked its whiskers out. It gave Rincewind a desperate look as it scrambled up and fled past him, followed by dozens of its tribe. Some of them were wearing clothes but that wasn't unusual for the University, where the high level of background magic does strange things to genes.practising the violin, rather badly. It was not what you would call ominous.Rincewind leaned against the warm stonework. And screamed.The building was shuddering. He could feel it come up through his hand and along his arms, a faint rhythmic sensation at just the right frequency
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Thomas Kinkade Spirit of Christmas
Thomas Kinkade Spirit of ChristmasThomas Kinkade Serenity CoveThomas Kinkade Petals of Hope
necessary.
‘Nice to see the old people enjoying themselves,’ said Miss Flitworth.
Death looked at the eaters. Most of them were younger than Miss Flitworth. There was a giggle from somewhere in the scented darkness beyond the firelight.
‘And the young people,’ Miss Flitworth added, evenly. ‘We used to have a saying about this time of year. Let’s see . . . something like “Corn be ripe, nuts be brown, petticoats up . . .” something.’ She sighed. ‘Don’t time fly, eh?’
YES.! Hwun htwo three four . . .’
Picture a landscape. with the orange light of a crescent moon drifting across it. And, down below, a circle of fire-light in the night. There were the old favourites - the square dances, the reels, the whirling, intricate measures which, if the dancers had carried lights, would have traced out topological complexities beyond the reach of ordinary physics, and the sort of dances that lead perfectly sane people to ‘You know, Bill Door, maybe you were right about the power of positive thinking. I feel a lot better tonight.’YES?Miss Flitworth looked speculatively at the dance floor. ‘I used to be a great dancer when I was a gel. I could dance anyone off their feet. I could dance down the moon. I could dance the sun up.’She reached up and removed the bands that held her hair in its tight bun, and shook it out in a waterfall of white.band’s awning, the lead fiddler nodded to his fellow musicians, stuck his fiddle under his chin, and pounded on the boards with his foot - ‘Hwun! Htwo
necessary.
‘Nice to see the old people enjoying themselves,’ said Miss Flitworth.
Death looked at the eaters. Most of them were younger than Miss Flitworth. There was a giggle from somewhere in the scented darkness beyond the firelight.
‘And the young people,’ Miss Flitworth added, evenly. ‘We used to have a saying about this time of year. Let’s see . . . something like “Corn be ripe, nuts be brown, petticoats up . . .” something.’ She sighed. ‘Don’t time fly, eh?’
YES.! Hwun htwo three four . . .’
Picture a landscape. with the orange light of a crescent moon drifting across it. And, down below, a circle of fire-light in the night. There were the old favourites - the square dances, the reels, the whirling, intricate measures which, if the dancers had carried lights, would have traced out topological complexities beyond the reach of ordinary physics, and the sort of dances that lead perfectly sane people to ‘You know, Bill Door, maybe you were right about the power of positive thinking. I feel a lot better tonight.’YES?Miss Flitworth looked speculatively at the dance floor. ‘I used to be a great dancer when I was a gel. I could dance anyone off their feet. I could dance down the moon. I could dance the sun up.’She reached up and removed the bands that held her hair in its tight bun, and shook it out in a waterfall of white.band’s awning, the lead fiddler nodded to his fellow musicians, stuck his fiddle under his chin, and pounded on the boards with his foot - ‘Hwun! Htwo
Monday, April 6, 2009
Henri Rousseau Surprise
Henri Rousseau SurpriseHenri Rousseau Sleeping GypsyHenri Rousseau Scout Attacked by a Tiger
Henri Rousseau, known as Le Douanier Rousseau (1844-1910) was a French painter. His nickname refers to the job he held with the Paris Customs Office (1871-93), although he never actually rose to the rank of `Douanier' (Customs Officer). Before this he had served in the army, and he later claimed to have seen service in Mexico, but this story seems to be a product of his imagination. He took up painting as a hobby and accepted early retirement in 1893 so he could devote himself to art. His character was extraordinarily ingenuous and he suffered much ridicule as well as enduring great poverty. However, his faith in his own abilities never wavered. He tried to paint in the academic manner of such traditionalist artists as Bouguereau and Gérome, but it was the innocence and charm of his work that won him the admiration of the avant-garde: in 1908 Picasso gave a banquet, half serious half burlesque, in his honor. Rousseau is now best known for his jungle scenes, the first of which is Surprised! (Tropical Storm with a Tiger) and the last The Dream. These two paintings are works of great imaginative power, in which he showed his extraordinary ability to retain the utter freshness of his vision even when working on a large scale and with loving attention to detail. He claimed such scenes were inspired by his experiences in Mexico, but in fact his sources were illustrated books and visits to the zoo and botanical gardens in Paris. His other work ranges from the jaunty humor of The Football
Henri Rousseau, known as Le Douanier Rousseau (1844-1910) was a French painter. His nickname refers to the job he held with the Paris Customs Office (1871-93), although he never actually rose to the rank of `Douanier' (Customs Officer). Before this he had served in the army, and he later claimed to have seen service in Mexico, but this story seems to be a product of his imagination. He took up painting as a hobby and accepted early retirement in 1893 so he could devote himself to art. His character was extraordinarily ingenuous and he suffered much ridicule as well as enduring great poverty. However, his faith in his own abilities never wavered. He tried to paint in the academic manner of such traditionalist artists as Bouguereau and Gérome, but it was the innocence and charm of his work that won him the admiration of the avant-garde: in 1908 Picasso gave a banquet, half serious half burlesque, in his honor. Rousseau is now best known for his jungle scenes, the first of which is Surprised! (Tropical Storm with a Tiger) and the last The Dream. These two paintings are works of great imaginative power, in which he showed his extraordinary ability to retain the utter freshness of his vision even when working on a large scale and with loving attention to detail. He claimed such scenes were inspired by his experiences in Mexico, but in fact his sources were illustrated books and visits to the zoo and botanical gardens in Paris. His other work ranges from the jaunty humor of The Football
Friday, April 3, 2009
Thomas Kinkade NASCAR THUNDER
Thomas Kinkade NASCAR THUNDERThomas Kinkade LondonThomas Kinkade Light of Freedom
towards a crevice. The wizards didn’t notice it.
‘What wire baskety wheely thing?’ said the wizards, in unison.
Ridcully looked around him.
‘I could have sworn -‘ he began.
There was another scream.
Ridcully scrambled to his feet.
‘Come The Dean peered closer.’Er . . . especially because, I do believe, that’s his feet poking out from under it . . .’
The heap swivelled towards the wizards and made a glop, glop noise.
Then it moved.
‘Right, then,’ said Ridcully, rubbing his hands together hopefully, ‘which of you fellows has got a spell about them at the moment?’ The wizards patted their pockets in an embarrassed on, you fellows!’ he said, limping heroically onwards. ‘Why does everyone run towards a blood-curdling scream?’ mumbled the Senior Wrangler.’It’s contrary to all sense.’They trotted out through the cloisters and into the quadrangle.A rounded, dark shape was squatting in the middle of the ancient lawn. Steam was coming out of it in little, noisome wisps.‘What is it?’‘It can’t be a compost heap in the middle of the lawn, can it?’‘Modo will be very upset.’
towards a crevice. The wizards didn’t notice it.
‘What wire baskety wheely thing?’ said the wizards, in unison.
Ridcully looked around him.
‘I could have sworn -‘ he began.
There was another scream.
Ridcully scrambled to his feet.
‘Come The Dean peered closer.’Er . . . especially because, I do believe, that’s his feet poking out from under it . . .’
The heap swivelled towards the wizards and made a glop, glop noise.
Then it moved.
‘Right, then,’ said Ridcully, rubbing his hands together hopefully, ‘which of you fellows has got a spell about them at the moment?’ The wizards patted their pockets in an embarrassed on, you fellows!’ he said, limping heroically onwards. ‘Why does everyone run towards a blood-curdling scream?’ mumbled the Senior Wrangler.’It’s contrary to all sense.’They trotted out through the cloisters and into the quadrangle.A rounded, dark shape was squatting in the middle of the ancient lawn. Steam was coming out of it in little, noisome wisps.‘What is it?’‘It can’t be a compost heap in the middle of the lawn, can it?’‘Modo will be very upset.’
Thursday, April 2, 2009
Piet Mondrian Composition with Red Yellow and Blue
Piet Mondrian Composition with Red Yellow and BluePiet Mondrian Composition 2Steve Thoms Poppies
Are you still there, One-Man-Bucket?’ she said.
l I’ll about seniority here, he said. just sorting out a bit of personal space. got a lot of problems here, Mrs Cake. it’s like a waiting room - There was a shrill clamour of other disembodied voices.
l could you get a message, please, to Mr -
l tell her there’s a bag of coins on the ledge up the chimney -
l Agnes is not to have the silverware after what she said about our Molly -make you regret the day you ever died, you whining - ‘Catch.’She dropped the vase on to the stove. It smashed. A moment later, there was a sound from the Other Side. If a discorporate spirit had hit another discorporate spirit with the ghost of a vase, it would have sounded just like that.l right, said the voice of One-Man-Bucket, and there’s more where that came from, OK?The Cakes, mother and hairy daughter, nodded at each other. When One-Man-Bucket spoke again, his voice dripped with smug satisfaction.l just a bit of an altercation
Are you still there, One-Man-Bucket?’ she said.
l I’ll about seniority here, he said. just sorting out a bit of personal space. got a lot of problems here, Mrs Cake. it’s like a waiting room - There was a shrill clamour of other disembodied voices.
l could you get a message, please, to Mr -
l tell her there’s a bag of coins on the ledge up the chimney -
l Agnes is not to have the silverware after what she said about our Molly -make you regret the day you ever died, you whining - ‘Catch.’She dropped the vase on to the stove. It smashed. A moment later, there was a sound from the Other Side. If a discorporate spirit had hit another discorporate spirit with the ghost of a vase, it would have sounded just like that.l right, said the voice of One-Man-Bucket, and there’s more where that came from, OK?The Cakes, mother and hairy daughter, nodded at each other. When One-Man-Bucket spoke again, his voice dripped with smug satisfaction.l just a bit of an altercation
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
Martin Johnson Heade Rio de Janeiro Bay
Martin Johnson Heade Rio de Janeiro BayUnknown Artist Brent Lynch Coastal DriveUnknown Artist Persian woman pouring wineAlbert Moore ShellsAlbert Moore Midsummer
Went Away, ‘ the capital letters fell into place easily, ‘back in, mm, the Year of the Intimidating, mm, Porpoise. Thought everyone had forgotten about ‘em.’
‘The Librarian looked up the details for us, ‘ said the Bursar, indicating a large orangutan who was trying to blow into a party squeaker.’He also made the banana dip. I hope someone eats it soon.’
He leaned down.
‘Can I help you to some more potato salad?’ he said, in the loud deliberate voice used for talking to know what time -?’
‘Eh?’
‘What! Time?’
‘Half past nine,’ said Windle, promptly if indistinctly. ‘Well, that’s nice, ‘ said the Bursar.’It gives you the rest of the evening, er, free.’imbeciles and old people. Windle cupped a trembling hand to his ear. ‘What? What?’‘More! salad! Windle?’‘No, thank you.’‘Another sausage, then?’ ‘What?’‘Sausage!’‘They give me terrible gas all night,’ said Windle.He considered this for a moment, and then took five.‘Er,’ shouted the Bursar, ‘do you happen to
Went Away, ‘ the capital letters fell into place easily, ‘back in, mm, the Year of the Intimidating, mm, Porpoise. Thought everyone had forgotten about ‘em.’
‘The Librarian looked up the details for us, ‘ said the Bursar, indicating a large orangutan who was trying to blow into a party squeaker.’He also made the banana dip. I hope someone eats it soon.’
He leaned down.
‘Can I help you to some more potato salad?’ he said, in the loud deliberate voice used for talking to know what time -?’
‘Eh?’
‘What! Time?’
‘Half past nine,’ said Windle, promptly if indistinctly. ‘Well, that’s nice, ‘ said the Bursar.’It gives you the rest of the evening, er, free.’imbeciles and old people. Windle cupped a trembling hand to his ear. ‘What? What?’‘More! salad! Windle?’‘No, thank you.’‘Another sausage, then?’ ‘What?’‘Sausage!’‘They give me terrible gas all night,’ said Windle.He considered this for a moment, and then took five.‘Er,’ shouted the Bursar, ‘do you happen to
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