Jack Vettriano along game a SpiderJack Vettriano Along Came A SpiderJack Vettriano All Systems Go
could . . . maybe go up . . . maybe . . . a dollar,' he said, each word fighting its way out of the strongroom of his soul.
'If we go on stage now, I want us to do another performance,' said Buddy.
Glod glared suspiciously at the guitar.
'What? No problem. I smashed on the floor. A troll appeared in the doorway, or at least part of it did. It wouldn't be able to get into the room without ripping the door‑frame out, but it looked as though it wouldn't think twice about doing so.
'Mr Chrysoprase says, what's happening?' it growled.
'Er–' Dibbler began.can soon–’Dibbler began.'Free.''Free?' The word got past Dibbler's teeth before they could snap shut. He rallied magnificently. 'You don't want paying? Certainly, if–’Buddy didn't move.'I mean, we don't get paid and people don't have to pay to listen. As many people as possible.''Free?''Yes!''Where's the profit in that?'An empty beer bottle vibrated off the table and
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Jack Vettriano Yesterday's Dreams
Jack Vettriano Yesterday's DreamsJack Vettriano Working the LoungeJack Vettriano words of Wisdom
might get caught.'
'He can't stop us. We're on a mission from Glod.'
'Right.'
The piano tottered onward through the puddles for a little while, and then asked itself:
'Buddy?''Anyway, we are on a mission from Glod.'
'Yup.'
Glod sat in his lodgings, watching the guitar.
It had stopped playing when Buddy had gone out, although if he put his ear close to the strings he was sure that they were still humming very gently.'Yup?''Why did I just say dat?''Say what?''About us being on a mission . . . you know . . . from Glod?''Weeell . . . the dwarf said to us, go and get the piano, and his name is Glod, so–''Yeah. Yeah. Right . . . but . . . he could've stopped us, I mean, dere's nothing special about some mission from some dwarf–''Maybe you were just a bit tired.''Maybe dat's it,' said the piano, gratefully.
might get caught.'
'He can't stop us. We're on a mission from Glod.'
'Right.'
The piano tottered onward through the puddles for a little while, and then asked itself:
'Buddy?''Anyway, we are on a mission from Glod.'
'Yup.'
Glod sat in his lodgings, watching the guitar.
It had stopped playing when Buddy had gone out, although if he put his ear close to the strings he was sure that they were still humming very gently.'Yup?''Why did I just say dat?''Say what?''About us being on a mission . . . you know . . . from Glod?''Weeell . . . the dwarf said to us, go and get the piano, and his name is Glod, so–''Yeah. Yeah. Right . . . but . . . he could've stopped us, I mean, dere's nothing special about some mission from some dwarf–''Maybe you were just a bit tired.''Maybe dat's it,' said the piano, gratefully.
Monday, May 11, 2009
Pablo Picasso Mandolin and Guitar
Pablo Picasso Mandolin and GuitarPablo Picasso Girl Before a MirrorYvonne Jeanette Karlsen NudeTamara de Lempicka Dormeuse
reached out and picked up a glass, bit her lip thoughtfully, and started to turn the thing upside down . . .
SQUEAK!
She spun around. The Death of Rats was on the shelf behind her. It raised an admonitory finger.
'All right,' said ‑ the words: C. H. Lavatory & Son, Mollymog St, Ankh‑Morpork.
You didn't expect the rubber duck. It was yellow.
You didn't expect the soap. It was suitably bonewhiteSusan. She put the glass back in its place.SQUEAK.'No. I haven't finished looking.'Susan set off for the door, with the rat skittering across the floor after her.The third room turned out to be . . .. . . the bathroom.Susan hesitated. You expected hourglasses in this place. You expected the skull‑and‑bones motif. But you didn't expect the very large white porcelain tub, on its own raised podium like a throne, with giant brass taps and ‑ in faded blue letters just over the thing that held the plug chain
reached out and picked up a glass, bit her lip thoughtfully, and started to turn the thing upside down . . .
SQUEAK!
She spun around. The Death of Rats was on the shelf behind her. It raised an admonitory finger.
'All right,' said ‑ the words: C. H. Lavatory & Son, Mollymog St, Ankh‑Morpork.
You didn't expect the rubber duck. It was yellow.
You didn't expect the soap. It was suitably bonewhiteSusan. She put the glass back in its place.SQUEAK.'No. I haven't finished looking.'Susan set off for the door, with the rat skittering across the floor after her.The third room turned out to be . . .. . . the bathroom.Susan hesitated. You expected hourglasses in this place. You expected the skull‑and‑bones motif. But you didn't expect the very large white porcelain tub, on its own raised podium like a throne, with giant brass taps and ‑ in faded blue letters just over the thing that held the plug chain
Friday, May 8, 2009
Andy Warhol Diamond Dust Shoes
Andy Warhol Diamond Dust ShoesAndy Warhol daisy 1982Andy Warhol Camouflage green yellow whiteAndy Warhol Brooklyn Bridge
parents of many of the gels were often abroad on business of one sort or another, and it was sometimes the kind of business where the chances of rich reward go hand in hand with the risks of meeting unsympathetic men.
Miss Butts knew how this sort of thing should go and was vaguely annoyed that it wasn't going.
'Er . . . if you would like to be alone, to have a cry–’ she'd prompted, in an effort to get things moving on the right track.
'Would that help?' Susan had said.
It would have helped Miss Butts.how to handle these occasions. It was painful, but the thing ran its course. There was shock and tears, and then, eventually, it was all over. People had ways of dealing with it. There was a sort of script built into the human mind. Life went on.But the child had just sat there. It was the politeness that scared the daylights out of Miss Butts. She was not an unkind woman, despite a lifetime of being gently dried out on the stove of education, but she was conscientious and a stickler for propriety and thought she knew
parents of many of the gels were often abroad on business of one sort or another, and it was sometimes the kind of business where the chances of rich reward go hand in hand with the risks of meeting unsympathetic men.
Miss Butts knew how this sort of thing should go and was vaguely annoyed that it wasn't going.
'Er . . . if you would like to be alone, to have a cry–’ she'd prompted, in an effort to get things moving on the right track.
'Would that help?' Susan had said.
It would have helped Miss Butts.how to handle these occasions. It was painful, but the thing ran its course. There was shock and tears, and then, eventually, it was all over. People had ways of dealing with it. There was a sort of script built into the human mind. Life went on.But the child had just sat there. It was the politeness that scared the daylights out of Miss Butts. She was not an unkind woman, despite a lifetime of being gently dried out on the stove of education, but she was conscientious and a stickler for propriety and thought she knew
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
Albert Moore Shells
Albert Moore ShellsAlbert Moore MidsummerAlbert Moore Idyll
want me to do next, sir?'
'Send them out in squads, sergeant. At least one human, one dwarf and one troll in each.'
'Yessir. What'll they be doing, sir?'
'They'll be being 'I know. It's not right. People ought to think for themselves, Captain Vimes says. The problem is, people only think for themselves if you tell them to. How do you spell "eventuality"?'
'I don't.'
'OK.' Carrot still didn't look around. 'We'll hold the city togethvisible, sergeant.''Right, sir. Sir? One of the volunteers just now . . . it's Mr Bleakley, sir. From Elm Street? He's a vampire, well. technic'ly, but he works up at the slaughterhouse so it's not really—''Thank him very much and send him home, sergeant.'Colon glanced at Angua.'Yessir. Right,' he said reluctantly. 'But he's not a problem, it's just that he needs these extra homogoblins in his bio—''No!''Right. Fine. I'll, er, I'll tell him to go away, then.'Colon shut the door. The hinge leered.'They call you sir,' said Angua. 'Do you notice that?'
want me to do next, sir?'
'Send them out in squads, sergeant. At least one human, one dwarf and one troll in each.'
'Yessir. What'll they be doing, sir?'
'They'll be being 'I know. It's not right. People ought to think for themselves, Captain Vimes says. The problem is, people only think for themselves if you tell them to. How do you spell "eventuality"?'
'I don't.'
'OK.' Carrot still didn't look around. 'We'll hold the city togethvisible, sergeant.''Right, sir. Sir? One of the volunteers just now . . . it's Mr Bleakley, sir. From Elm Street? He's a vampire, well. technic'ly, but he works up at the slaughterhouse so it's not really—''Thank him very much and send him home, sergeant.'Colon glanced at Angua.'Yessir. Right,' he said reluctantly. 'But he's not a problem, it's just that he needs these extra homogoblins in his bio—''No!''Right. Fine. I'll, er, I'll tell him to go away, then.'Colon shut the door. The hinge leered.'They call you sir,' said Angua. 'Do you notice that?'
Sunday, May 3, 2009
Andy Warhol Basket of Flowers
Andy Warhol Basket of FlowersNicolas De Stael Sky in HonfleurNicolas De Stael Noon LandscapeNicolas De Stael Jazz Musicians
mud, more or less dry, made a path at the bottom of the tunnel. There was slime on the walls, too, indicating that at some point in the recent past the tunnel had been full of water. Here and there huge patches of fungi, luminous with decay, cast a faint a good business making fortune rats for dwarf restaurants. But I thought, this isn't a proper job for a dwarf.'
'Sound like easy job to me.'
'I had the devil of a time getting them to swallow the fortunes.'
Cuddy stopped. A change in the air suggested a vaster tunnel up ahead.
And, indeed, the tunnel opened into the side of a much larger one. There was deep mud on the floor, in the middle of which ran a trickle of water. Cuddy fancied he heard rats, or what he hoped were rats, scuttle away into the dark emptiness. He even thought he could hear the sounds of the city – indistinct, intermingleglow over the\Cuddy felt his spirits lift as he plodded through the darkness. Dwarfs always felt happier underground.'Bound to find a way out,' he said.'Right.''So . . . how come you joined the Watch, then?''Hah! My girl Ruby she say, you want get married, you get proper job, I not marry a troll what people say, him no good troll, him thick as a short plank of wood.' Detritus' voice echoed in the darkness. 'How about you?''I got bored. I worked for my brother-in-law, Durance. He's got
mud, more or less dry, made a path at the bottom of the tunnel. There was slime on the walls, too, indicating that at some point in the recent past the tunnel had been full of water. Here and there huge patches of fungi, luminous with decay, cast a faint a good business making fortune rats for dwarf restaurants. But I thought, this isn't a proper job for a dwarf.'
'Sound like easy job to me.'
'I had the devil of a time getting them to swallow the fortunes.'
Cuddy stopped. A change in the air suggested a vaster tunnel up ahead.
And, indeed, the tunnel opened into the side of a much larger one. There was deep mud on the floor, in the middle of which ran a trickle of water. Cuddy fancied he heard rats, or what he hoped were rats, scuttle away into the dark emptiness. He even thought he could hear the sounds of the city – indistinct, intermingleglow over the\Cuddy felt his spirits lift as he plodded through the darkness. Dwarfs always felt happier underground.'Bound to find a way out,' he said.'Right.''So . . . how come you joined the Watch, then?''Hah! My girl Ruby she say, you want get married, you get proper job, I not marry a troll what people say, him no good troll, him thick as a short plank of wood.' Detritus' voice echoed in the darkness. 'How about you?''I got bored. I worked for my brother-in-law, Durance. He's got
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Edward Hopper Queensborough Bridge
Edward Hopper Queensborough BridgeEdward Hopper House by the RailroadAmedeo Modigliani the Seated Nude
I'm sure we always try to be of help to the community,' said Sendivoge. 'Do come in.'
Cuddy's steel-tipped boots kicked Detritus back into semi-sensibility, and he lumbered after them.
'Why the, erSound commercial venture.'
'I thought you were working on gold.'
'Ah, yes. Of course, you people know all about gold,' said Sendivoge.
'Oh, yes,' said Cuddy, reflecting on the phrase 'you people'.
'The gold,' said Sendivoge, thoughtfully, 'is turning out to be a bit tricky . . .'
'How long have you been trying?'
'Three hundred years.', why the crash helmet, mister?' said Cuddy, as they walked along the corridor. All around them was the sound of hammering. The Guild was usually being rebuilt.Sendivoge rolled his eyes.'Balls,' he said, 'billiard balls, in fact.''I knew a man who played like that,' said Cuddy.'Oh, no. Mr Silverfish is a good shot. That tends rather to be the problem, in fact.'Cuddy looked at the crash helmet again.'It's the ivory, you see.''Ah,' said Cuddy, not seeing, 'elephants?''Ivory without elephants. Transmuted ivory.
I'm sure we always try to be of help to the community,' said Sendivoge. 'Do come in.'
Cuddy's steel-tipped boots kicked Detritus back into semi-sensibility, and he lumbered after them.
'Why the, erSound commercial venture.'
'I thought you were working on gold.'
'Ah, yes. Of course, you people know all about gold,' said Sendivoge.
'Oh, yes,' said Cuddy, reflecting on the phrase 'you people'.
'The gold,' said Sendivoge, thoughtfully, 'is turning out to be a bit tricky . . .'
'How long have you been trying?'
'Three hundred years.', why the crash helmet, mister?' said Cuddy, as they walked along the corridor. All around them was the sound of hammering. The Guild was usually being rebuilt.Sendivoge rolled his eyes.'Balls,' he said, 'billiard balls, in fact.''I knew a man who played like that,' said Cuddy.'Oh, no. Mr Silverfish is a good shot. That tends rather to be the problem, in fact.'Cuddy looked at the crash helmet again.'It's the ivory, you see.''Ah,' said Cuddy, not seeing, 'elephants?''Ivory without elephants. Transmuted ivory.
Monday, April 27, 2009
George Stubbs Horse Attacked by a Lion
George Stubbs Horse Attacked by a LionSalvador Dali The Land of Milk and HoneyCaravaggio Sick BacchusUnknown Artist Wave Rider
put a foot wrong very easily,' said Nobby. 'Very thin-skinned, your basic ethnic.'
'Thin-skinned? They're trying to kill one another!'
'It's cultural,' said Sergeant Colon, miserably. 'No sense us tryin' to force our culture on 'em, is there? That's speciesist.'
Out in the street, Corporal Carrot had gone very red in the face.
'If he lays a Carrot prodded them with the toe of his sandal.
Then he turned and strode towards the dwarf marchers, shaking with anger.
In the alleyway, Sergeant Colon started to suck the rim of his helmet out of terror.
'You've got weapons, haven't you?' snarled Carrot at a hundred dwarfs. 'Own up! If the dwarfs who've got weapons don't drop them right this minute the entire parade, and I mean finger on either of 'em, with all their friends watching,' said Nobby, 'theplan is, we run away like hell—'Veins stood out on Carrot's mighty neck. He stuck his hands on his waist and bellowed:'Lance-Constable Detritus! Salute!'They'd spent hours trying to teach him. Detritus' brain took some time to latch on to an idea, but once it was there, it didn't fade away fast.He saluted.His hand was full of dwarf.So he saluted while holding Lance-Constable Cuddy, swinging him up and over like a small angry club.The sound of their helmets meeting echoed off the buildings, and it was followed a moment later by the crash of them both hitting the ground.
put a foot wrong very easily,' said Nobby. 'Very thin-skinned, your basic ethnic.'
'Thin-skinned? They're trying to kill one another!'
'It's cultural,' said Sergeant Colon, miserably. 'No sense us tryin' to force our culture on 'em, is there? That's speciesist.'
Out in the street, Corporal Carrot had gone very red in the face.
'If he lays a Carrot prodded them with the toe of his sandal.
Then he turned and strode towards the dwarf marchers, shaking with anger.
In the alleyway, Sergeant Colon started to suck the rim of his helmet out of terror.
'You've got weapons, haven't you?' snarled Carrot at a hundred dwarfs. 'Own up! If the dwarfs who've got weapons don't drop them right this minute the entire parade, and I mean finger on either of 'em, with all their friends watching,' said Nobby, 'theplan is, we run away like hell—'Veins stood out on Carrot's mighty neck. He stuck his hands on his waist and bellowed:'Lance-Constable Detritus! Salute!'They'd spent hours trying to teach him. Detritus' brain took some time to latch on to an idea, but once it was there, it didn't fade away fast.He saluted.His hand was full of dwarf.So he saluted while holding Lance-Constable Cuddy, swinging him up and over like a small angry club.The sound of their helmets meeting echoed off the buildings, and it was followed a moment later by the crash of them both hitting the ground.
Sunday, April 26, 2009
Salvador Dali Melting Watch
Salvador Dali Melting WatchSalvador Dali Dream Caused by the Flight of a Bee around a PomegranateSalvador Dali Bacchanale
Pratchett
Granny eyed it hungrily, and then looked at the bees that were taking off from her head like planes from a stricken carrier.
“Pour a dzzrop of water on it, then, and tip it out on the table for them.”
She stared triumphantly at their faces as Nanny Ogg bustled off.
“I done it with beezzz! No one can do it with beezzz, and I done it! You endzzz up with your mind all flying in different directionzzz! You got whatsoever.”
Magrat thought about the will.
“You never had a moment’s doubt?”
Granny Weatherwax had the grace not to look her in the eye. Instead, she rubbed her hands together.
“What’s been happening while I’ve been away?”to be good to do it with beezzz!”Nanny Ogg sloshed the bowl of makeshift syrup across the table. The swarm descended.“You’re alive?” Ridcully managed.“That’s what a univerzzity education doezz for you,” said Granny, trying to massage some life into her arms. “You’ve only got to be sitting up and talking for five minutzz and they can work out you’re alive.”Nanny Ogg handed her a glass of water. It hovered in the air for a moment and then crashed to the floor, because Granny had tried to grasp it with her fifth leg.“Zzorry.”“I knew you wasn’t certain!” said Nanny.“Czertain? Of courze I waz certain! Never in any doubt
“Well,” said Nanny, “Magrat stood up to the—“
Pratchett
Granny eyed it hungrily, and then looked at the bees that were taking off from her head like planes from a stricken carrier.
“Pour a dzzrop of water on it, then, and tip it out on the table for them.”
She stared triumphantly at their faces as Nanny Ogg bustled off.
“I done it with beezzz! No one can do it with beezzz, and I done it! You endzzz up with your mind all flying in different directionzzz! You got whatsoever.”
Magrat thought about the will.
“You never had a moment’s doubt?”
Granny Weatherwax had the grace not to look her in the eye. Instead, she rubbed her hands together.
“What’s been happening while I’ve been away?”to be good to do it with beezzz!”Nanny Ogg sloshed the bowl of makeshift syrup across the table. The swarm descended.“You’re alive?” Ridcully managed.“That’s what a univerzzity education doezz for you,” said Granny, trying to massage some life into her arms. “You’ve only got to be sitting up and talking for five minutzz and they can work out you’re alive.”Nanny Ogg handed her a glass of water. It hovered in the air for a moment and then crashed to the floor, because Granny had tried to grasp it with her fifth leg.“Zzorry.”“I knew you wasn’t certain!” said Nanny.“Czertain? Of courze I waz certain! Never in any doubt
“Well,” said Nanny, “Magrat stood up to the—“
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Mark Spain Pure Elegance
Mark Spain Pure EleganceMark Spain Only YouMark Spain Night Light
couldn’t feel much in his arm anymore, except in the hot dull way that indicated at least one broken bone, and he knew that two of his fingers shouldn’t be looking like that. He was sweating, despite being only in his vest and drawers. He shouldto one of Nanny Ogg’s bedsheets. The elf faces put him in mind of that. There were eyes and a mouth in there somewhere, but everything else seemed to be temporary, the elves’ features passing across their faces like the pictures on the screen.
They didn’t say much. They just laughed a lot. They were a merry folk, especially when they were twisting your arm to see how far it could go. never have taken his chain-mail off, but it’s hard to say no when an elf is pointing a bow at you. Shawn knew what, fortunately, many people didn’t—chain-mail isn’t much defense against an arrow. It certainly isn’t when the arrow is being aimed between your eyes.He’d been dragged along the corridors to the armory. There were at least four elves, but it was hard to see their faces. Shawn remembered when the traveling Magic Lanthorn show had come to Lancre. He’d watched entranced as different pictures had been projected on
couldn’t feel much in his arm anymore, except in the hot dull way that indicated at least one broken bone, and he knew that two of his fingers shouldn’t be looking like that. He was sweating, despite being only in his vest and drawers. He shouldto one of Nanny Ogg’s bedsheets. The elf faces put him in mind of that. There were eyes and a mouth in there somewhere, but everything else seemed to be temporary, the elves’ features passing across their faces like the pictures on the screen.
They didn’t say much. They just laughed a lot. They were a merry folk, especially when they were twisting your arm to see how far it could go. never have taken his chain-mail off, but it’s hard to say no when an elf is pointing a bow at you. Shawn knew what, fortunately, many people didn’t—chain-mail isn’t much defense against an arrow. It certainly isn’t when the arrow is being aimed between your eyes.He’d been dragged along the corridors to the armory. There were at least four elves, but it was hard to see their faces. Shawn remembered when the traveling Magic Lanthorn show had come to Lancre. He’d watched entranced as different pictures had been projected on
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Albert Moore Shells
Albert Moore ShellsAlbert Moore MidsummerAlbert Moore Idyll
him.
“No! “You are king. You could tell him not to.”
“Don’t like to, really. He’s so keen.”
A large log crackled into two across the iron dogs.
“Can you really get books about... that?”
“You can get books about anything.”
They both stared at the fire. Verence thought: she doesn’t like being a queen, I can see that, but that’s what you are when you marry a king, all the books say so ...Why?”“Nanny was trying to give me motherly advice. It was all I could do to keep a straight face. Honestly, they both treat me as if I’m a big child.”“Oh, no. Nothing like that.”They sat on either side of the huge fireplace, both crim-son with embarrassment.152iOROS ft/VO iftQf£6Then Magrat said: “Er . . . you did send off for that book, did you? You know . . . the one with the wood-cuts?”“Oh, yes. Yes, I did.”“It ought to have arrived by now.”“Well, we only get a mail coach once a week. I expect it’ll come tomorrow. I’m fed up with running down there every week in case Shawn gets there first.”
him.
“No! “You are king. You could tell him not to.”
“Don’t like to, really. He’s so keen.”
A large log crackled into two across the iron dogs.
“Can you really get books about... that?”
“You can get books about anything.”
They both stared at the fire. Verence thought: she doesn’t like being a queen, I can see that, but that’s what you are when you marry a king, all the books say so ...Why?”“Nanny was trying to give me motherly advice. It was all I could do to keep a straight face. Honestly, they both treat me as if I’m a big child.”“Oh, no. Nothing like that.”They sat on either side of the huge fireplace, both crim-son with embarrassment.152iOROS ft/VO iftQf£6Then Magrat said: “Er . . . you did send off for that book, did you? You know . . . the one with the wood-cuts?”“Oh, yes. Yes, I did.”“It ought to have arrived by now.”“Well, we only get a mail coach once a week. I expect it’ll come tomorrow. I’m fed up with running down there every week in case Shawn gets there first.”
Monday, April 20, 2009
Thomas Kinkade End Of A Perfect Day II
Thomas Kinkade End Of A Perfect Day IIThomas Kinkade Conquering the StormsThomas Kinkade bloomsbury cafe
took out her pipe and scratched her ear with it.
“Dunno. Up to you, I suppose.”
“Diamanda says why does it have to be here and now?”
“So’s everyone can see,” said Nanny Ogg. “That’s the point, ain’t it? Nothing hole and comer about it. Everyone’s got to know who’s best at witchcraft. The whole town. Everyone sees the winner win and the loser lose. That way there’s no argument, eh?”
Perdita glanced toward the tavern. Granny Weatherwax had dozed off.
73
Terry Pratchett
“Quietly confident,” said Nanny Ogg, crossing her fin-gers behind her back.
“Um, what happens to the loser?” said Perdita.
“Nothing, really,” said“Right.” Nanny thought about it, and shrugged. “Right. But we’d better do a magic circle first. Don’t want anyone else getting hurt, do we?”
“Do you mean using Skorhian Runes or the Triple Invocation octogram Nanny Ogg. “Generally she leaves the place. You can’t be a witch if people’ve seen you beat.”“Diamanda says she doesn’t want to hurt the old lady too much,” said Perdita. “Just teach her a lesson.”“That’s nice. Esme’s a quick learner.”“Um. I wish this wasn’t happening, Mrs. Ogg.”“That’s nice.”“Diamanda says Mistress Weatherwax has got a very impressive stare, Mrs. Ogg.”“That’s nice.”“So the test is ... just staring, Mrs. Ogg.”Nanny put her pipe in her mouth.“You mean the old first-one-to-blink-or-look-away challenge?”“Um, yes.”
took out her pipe and scratched her ear with it.
“Dunno. Up to you, I suppose.”
“Diamanda says why does it have to be here and now?”
“So’s everyone can see,” said Nanny Ogg. “That’s the point, ain’t it? Nothing hole and comer about it. Everyone’s got to know who’s best at witchcraft. The whole town. Everyone sees the winner win and the loser lose. That way there’s no argument, eh?”
Perdita glanced toward the tavern. Granny Weatherwax had dozed off.
73
Terry Pratchett
“Quietly confident,” said Nanny Ogg, crossing her fin-gers behind her back.
“Um, what happens to the loser?” said Perdita.
“Nothing, really,” said“Right.” Nanny thought about it, and shrugged. “Right. But we’d better do a magic circle first. Don’t want anyone else getting hurt, do we?”
“Do you mean using Skorhian Runes or the Triple Invocation octogram Nanny Ogg. “Generally she leaves the place. You can’t be a witch if people’ve seen you beat.”“Diamanda says she doesn’t want to hurt the old lady too much,” said Perdita. “Just teach her a lesson.”“That’s nice. Esme’s a quick learner.”“Um. I wish this wasn’t happening, Mrs. Ogg.”“That’s nice.”“Diamanda says Mistress Weatherwax has got a very impressive stare, Mrs. Ogg.”“That’s nice.”“So the test is ... just staring, Mrs. Ogg.”Nanny put her pipe in her mouth.“You mean the old first-one-to-blink-or-look-away challenge?”“Um, yes.”
Friday, April 17, 2009
John William Waterhouse A Mermaid
John William Waterhouse A MermaidVincent van Gogh Houses at AuversVincent van Gogh Tree trunks
turned and ran desperately toward the beached fleet.
"No! It's not like that! Listen! Listen!"
But they had seen the army, too.
It looked its commander, whichever he was, was amazed to see an apparent attack by one man.
Borvorius caught him as he plunged towards a line of spears.
"I see," he said. "Keep us talking while your soldiers got into position, eh?"
"No! I didn't want that!"impressive, perhaps more impressive than it really was. When news gets through that a huge enemy fleet has beached with the intent of seriously looting, pillaging, and-because they are from civilized countries-whistling and making catcalls at the women and impressing them with their flash bloody uniforms and wooing them away with their flash bloody consumer goods, I don't know, show them a polished bronze mirror and it goes right to their heads, you'd think there was something wrong with the local lads . . . then people either head for the hills or pick up some handy, swingable object, get Granny to hide the family treasures in her drawers, and prepare to make a fight of it.And, in the lead, the iron cart. Steam poured out of its funnel. Urn must have got it working again."Stupid! Stupid!" Brutha shouted, to the world in general, and carried on running.The fleet was already forming battle-lines, and
turned and ran desperately toward the beached fleet.
"No! It's not like that! Listen! Listen!"
But they had seen the army, too.
It looked its commander, whichever he was, was amazed to see an apparent attack by one man.
Borvorius caught him as he plunged towards a line of spears.
"I see," he said. "Keep us talking while your soldiers got into position, eh?"
"No! I didn't want that!"impressive, perhaps more impressive than it really was. When news gets through that a huge enemy fleet has beached with the intent of seriously looting, pillaging, and-because they are from civilized countries-whistling and making catcalls at the women and impressing them with their flash bloody uniforms and wooing them away with their flash bloody consumer goods, I don't know, show them a polished bronze mirror and it goes right to their heads, you'd think there was something wrong with the local lads . . . then people either head for the hills or pick up some handy, swingable object, get Granny to hide the family treasures in her drawers, and prepare to make a fight of it.And, in the lead, the iron cart. Steam poured out of its funnel. Urn must have got it working again."Stupid! Stupid!" Brutha shouted, to the world in general, and carried on running.The fleet was already forming battle-lines, and
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Francois Boucher The Setting of the Sun
Francois Boucher The Setting of the SunFrancois Boucher The Rest on the Flight into EgyptFrancois Boucher The Rape of Europa
know!..
"Can you use one?"
"I don't know!"
"I really hope you're a fast learner."
The lion emerged, slowly.
Desert lions, it its pelt. It dragged itself towards Brutha, back legs trailing uselessly.
"It's hurt," said Brutha.
"Oh, good. And there's plenty of eating on one of those," said Om. "A bit stringy, but-”
The lion collapsed, its toast-rack chest heaving. A spear was protruding from its flank. Flies, which can always find something to eat in any desert, flew up in a swarm.
Brutha put down the sword. Om stuck his head in his shell.has been said, are not like the lions of the veldt. They had been, when the great desert had been verdant woodland.[7] Then there had been time to lie around for most of the day, looking majestic, in between regular meals of goat.[8] But the woodland had become scrubland, the scrubland had become, well, poorer scrubland, and the goats and the people and, eventually, even the cities, went away.The lions stayed. There's always something to eat, if you're hungry enough. People still had to cross the desert. There were lizards. There were snakes. It wasn't much of an ecological niche, but the lions were hanging on to it like grim death, which was what happened to most people who met a desert lion.Someone had already met this one.Its mane was matted. Ancient scars criss-crossed
know!..
"Can you use one?"
"I don't know!"
"I really hope you're a fast learner."
The lion emerged, slowly.
Desert lions, it its pelt. It dragged itself towards Brutha, back legs trailing uselessly.
"It's hurt," said Brutha.
"Oh, good. And there's plenty of eating on one of those," said Om. "A bit stringy, but-”
The lion collapsed, its toast-rack chest heaving. A spear was protruding from its flank. Flies, which can always find something to eat in any desert, flew up in a swarm.
Brutha put down the sword. Om stuck his head in his shell.has been said, are not like the lions of the veldt. They had been, when the great desert had been verdant woodland.[7] Then there had been time to lie around for most of the day, looking majestic, in between regular meals of goat.[8] But the woodland had become scrubland, the scrubland had become, well, poorer scrubland, and the goats and the people and, eventually, even the cities, went away.The lions stayed. There's always something to eat, if you're hungry enough. People still had to cross the desert. There were lizards. There were snakes. It wasn't much of an ecological niche, but the lions were hanging on to it like grim death, which was what happened to most people who met a desert lion.Someone had already met this one.Its mane was matted. Ancient scars criss-crossed
Thomas Kinkade Dawson
Thomas Kinkade DawsonThomas Kinkade CourageThomas Kinkade City by the BayThomas Kinkade Blessings of Christmas
Does what?"
"Make a sound. If it falls down when no one's there to hear it."
"Who cares?"
The party had reached a gateway in the wall that ran around the top of the rock in much the same way that a headband encircles a head. The Ephebian captain stopped, and turned.
"The . . . . But as Brutha was led . . .
. . . ten paces along a passage, and then left five paces, then diagonally forward and left threeand-a-half paces, and right one hundred and three paces, down three steps, and turned around seventeen-and-one-quarter times, and forward nine paces, and left one pace, and forward nineteen paces, and pause three seconds, and right two visitors . . . must be blindfolded," he said."That is outrageous!" said Vorbis. "We are here on a mission of diplomacy!""That is not my business," said the captain. "My business is to say: If you go through this gate you go blindfolded. You don't have to be blindfolded. You can stay outside. But if you want to go through, you got to wear a blindfold. This is one of them life choices."One of the subdeacons whispered in Vorbis's ear. He held a brief sotto voce conversation with the leader of the Omnian guard."Very well," he said, "under protest."The blindfold was quite soft, and totally opaque
Does what?"
"Make a sound. If it falls down when no one's there to hear it."
"Who cares?"
The party had reached a gateway in the wall that ran around the top of the rock in much the same way that a headband encircles a head. The Ephebian captain stopped, and turned.
"The . . . . But as Brutha was led . . .
. . . ten paces along a passage, and then left five paces, then diagonally forward and left threeand-a-half paces, and right one hundred and three paces, down three steps, and turned around seventeen-and-one-quarter times, and forward nine paces, and left one pace, and forward nineteen paces, and pause three seconds, and right two visitors . . . must be blindfolded," he said."That is outrageous!" said Vorbis. "We are here on a mission of diplomacy!""That is not my business," said the captain. "My business is to say: If you go through this gate you go blindfolded. You don't have to be blindfolded. You can stay outside. But if you want to go through, you got to wear a blindfold. This is one of them life choices."One of the subdeacons whispered in Vorbis's ear. He held a brief sotto voce conversation with the leader of the Omnian guard."Very well," he said, "under protest."The blindfold was quite soft, and totally opaque
Monday, April 13, 2009
Claude Monet Haystack at Giverny
Claude Monet Haystack at GivernyJean Auguste Dominique Ingres Ingres The SourcePeter Paul Rubens Samson and Delilah
Novice Brutha," he said, "for what reason are you talking to a small tortoise?"
"Because-” Brutha paused. "Because it's talking to me . . . isn't it?"
Brother Nhumrod looked down at the small, one-eyed head poking out of the shell.
He was, by and large, a kindly man. Sometimes demons and devils did put disquieting thoughts in his head, but he saw to it that they stayed there and he did not in any literal sense deserve to be called what the tortoise called him which, in fact, if he had heard it, he would have thought was something to do with feet. And he was well aware "I cannot hear it, Brutha."
"It told me it was . . ." Brutha hesitated. "It told me it was the Great God."
He flinched. Grandmother would have hit him with something heavy now.that it was possible to hear voices attributed to demons and, sometimes, gods. Tortoises was a new one. Tortoises made him feel worried about Brutha, whom he'd always thought of as an amiable lump who did, without any sort of complaint, anything asked of him. Of course, many novices volunteered for cleaning out the cesspits and bull cages, out of a strange belief that holiness and piety had something to do with being up to your knees in dirt. Brutha never volunteered, but if he was told to do something he did it, not out of any desire to impress,but simply because he'd been told. And now he was talking to tortoises."I think I have to tell you, Brutha," he said, "that it is not talking.""You can't hear it?"
"Ah. Well, you see, Brutha," said Brother Nhumrod, twitching gently
Novice Brutha," he said, "for what reason are you talking to a small tortoise?"
"Because-” Brutha paused. "Because it's talking to me . . . isn't it?"
Brother Nhumrod looked down at the small, one-eyed head poking out of the shell.
He was, by and large, a kindly man. Sometimes demons and devils did put disquieting thoughts in his head, but he saw to it that they stayed there and he did not in any literal sense deserve to be called what the tortoise called him which, in fact, if he had heard it, he would have thought was something to do with feet. And he was well aware "I cannot hear it, Brutha."
"It told me it was . . ." Brutha hesitated. "It told me it was the Great God."
He flinched. Grandmother would have hit him with something heavy now.that it was possible to hear voices attributed to demons and, sometimes, gods. Tortoises was a new one. Tortoises made him feel worried about Brutha, whom he'd always thought of as an amiable lump who did, without any sort of complaint, anything asked of him. Of course, many novices volunteered for cleaning out the cesspits and bull cages, out of a strange belief that holiness and piety had something to do with being up to your knees in dirt. Brutha never volunteered, but if he was told to do something he did it, not out of any desire to impress,but simply because he'd been told. And now he was talking to tortoises."I think I have to tell you, Brutha," he said, "that it is not talking.""You can't hear it?"
"Ah. Well, you see, Brutha," said Brother Nhumrod, twitching gently
Pablo Picasso Mandolin and Guitar
Pablo Picasso Mandolin and GuitarPablo Picasso Girl Before a MirrorYvonne Jeanette Karlsen Nude
Brutha was going to die a novice. When they made the rules, they'd never allowed for anything like Brutha.
His big red honest face stared up at the novice master.
"Sit down on "Very well. Now tell me about these voices."
Brutha twisted the hem of his robe in his hands.
"It was more like one voice, master," he said.
"-like one voice," said Brother Nhumrod. "And what did this voice say? Mmm?"
Brutha hesitated. Now he came to think about it, the voice hadn't said anything very much. It had your bed, Brutha," said Nhumrod.Brutha obeyed immediately. Brutha did not know the meaning of the word disobedience. It was only one of a large number of words he didn't know the meaning of.Nhumrod sat down beside him."Now, Brutha," he said, "you know what happens to people who tell falsehoods, don't you?"Brutha nodded, blushing.
Brutha was going to die a novice. When they made the rules, they'd never allowed for anything like Brutha.
His big red honest face stared up at the novice master.
"Sit down on "Very well. Now tell me about these voices."
Brutha twisted the hem of his robe in his hands.
"It was more like one voice, master," he said.
"-like one voice," said Brother Nhumrod. "And what did this voice say? Mmm?"
Brutha hesitated. Now he came to think about it, the voice hadn't said anything very much. It had your bed, Brutha," said Nhumrod.Brutha obeyed immediately. Brutha did not know the meaning of the word disobedience. It was only one of a large number of words he didn't know the meaning of.Nhumrod sat down beside him."Now, Brutha," he said, "you know what happens to people who tell falsehoods, don't you?"Brutha nodded, blushing.
Friday, April 10, 2009
Joaquin Sorolla y Bastida Leaving the Bath
Joaquin Sorolla y Bastida Leaving the BathJoaquin Sorolla y Bastida Children on the BeachJoaquin Sorolla y Bastida Children on the Beach Valencia
There was an explosion behind them and shafts of multicoloured fire screamed overhead, striking sparks off the masonry. Then there was a sound like an enormous cork being pulled out of a small bottle, and a peal of laughter that, somehow wasn't very amusing. The ground shook.
'What's going on?' said Conina.
'Magical 'I don't think that would be a good idea,' she said. 'Rincewind?'
The wizard shook his head gloomily, and picked up a pebble. He tossed it up above the ruined wall, where it turned into a small blue teapot. It smashed when it hit the ground.
'The spells react with one another,' he said. 'There's no telling what they'll do.'
'But we're safe behind this wall?' said Conina.
Rincewind brightened a bit. 'Are we?' he said.war,' said Rincewind.'Is that good?'No.'But surely you want wizardry to triumph?' said Nijel.Rincewind shrugged, and ducked as something unseen and big whirred overhead making a noise like a partridge.'I've never seen wizards fight,' said Nijel. He started to scramble up the rubble and screamed as Conina grabbed him by the leg.
There was an explosion behind them and shafts of multicoloured fire screamed overhead, striking sparks off the masonry. Then there was a sound like an enormous cork being pulled out of a small bottle, and a peal of laughter that, somehow wasn't very amusing. The ground shook.
'What's going on?' said Conina.
'Magical 'I don't think that would be a good idea,' she said. 'Rincewind?'
The wizard shook his head gloomily, and picked up a pebble. He tossed it up above the ruined wall, where it turned into a small blue teapot. It smashed when it hit the ground.
'The spells react with one another,' he said. 'There's no telling what they'll do.'
'But we're safe behind this wall?' said Conina.
Rincewind brightened a bit. 'Are we?' he said.war,' said Rincewind.'Is that good?'No.'But surely you want wizardry to triumph?' said Nijel.Rincewind shrugged, and ducked as something unseen and big whirred overhead making a noise like a partridge.'I've never seen wizards fight,' said Nijel. He started to scramble up the rubble and screamed as Conina grabbed him by the leg.
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
Albert Bierstadt A Quiet lake
Albert Bierstadt A Quiet lakeFabian Perez Waiting for the romance to comeFabian Perez Waiting For the Romance to Come Back II
'What, not sell me?' said Rincewind, and then snorted, 'Of course, it's the wizard's robes, he wouldn't dare-’
'Um. Actually, break into a smile she sighed and said, 'Why are you wizards always nervous around women?'
Rincewind bridled at this slur. 'I like that!' he said, 'I'll have you know that - look, anyway, the point is, I get along very well with women in general, it's just women with swords that upset me.' He considered this for a while, and added, 'Everyone with swords upset me, if it comes to that.'
Conina picked industriously at the splinter. The Luggage gave a contented creak.
'I know something else that'll upset you,' she muttered.
'Hmmm?'
'The hat's gone.'he said he'd have to give you away,' said Conina, picking intently at an imaginary splinter on the Luggage's lid.'Give me away?''Yes. Um. Sort of like, one free wizard with every concubine sold? Um.''I don't see what vegetables have got to do with it.'Conina gave him a long, hard stare, and when he didn't
'What, not sell me?' said Rincewind, and then snorted, 'Of course, it's the wizard's robes, he wouldn't dare-’
'Um. Actually, break into a smile she sighed and said, 'Why are you wizards always nervous around women?'
Rincewind bridled at this slur. 'I like that!' he said, 'I'll have you know that - look, anyway, the point is, I get along very well with women in general, it's just women with swords that upset me.' He considered this for a while, and added, 'Everyone with swords upset me, if it comes to that.'
Conina picked industriously at the splinter. The Luggage gave a contented creak.
'I know something else that'll upset you,' she muttered.
'Hmmm?'
'The hat's gone.'he said he'd have to give you away,' said Conina, picking intently at an imaginary splinter on the Luggage's lid.'Give me away?''Yes. Um. Sort of like, one free wizard with every concubine sold? Um.''I don't see what vegetables have got to do with it.'Conina gave him a long, hard stare, and when he didn't
Tom Thomson Woodland Waterfall
Tom Thomson Woodland WaterfallTom Thomson The PoolTom Thomson the jack pine
Carding rubbed the side of his nose thoughtfully.
'The boy has a 'no. Of course not.' He looked at Carding's innocent smile and coughed loudly. 'Certainly not, of course. Billias was very foolish. However, some prudent caution is surely-'
'Then let us all be cautious in the morning,' said Carding cheerfully. 'Brothers, let us adjourn this meeting. The boy sleeps, and in that at least he is showing us the way. This will look better in the light.'
'I have seen things that didn't,' said Gravie darkly, who didn't trust Youthstaff,' he said. 'Who gave it to him? Did you ask?''No,' said Spelter, still glowering at the almanackical interjector.Carding started to look at his fingernails in what Spelter considered to be a meaningful way.Well, whatever the problem, I feel sure it can wait until morning,' he said in what Spelter felt was an ostentatiously bored voice.'Ye gods, he blew Billias away!' said Gravie. 'And they say there's nothing in Virrid's room but soot!''They were perhaps rather foolish,' said Carding smoothly. 'I am sure, my good brother, that you would not be defeated in affairs of the Art by a mere stripling?'Gravie hesitated. 'Well, er,' he said,
Carding rubbed the side of his nose thoughtfully.
'The boy has a 'no. Of course not.' He looked at Carding's innocent smile and coughed loudly. 'Certainly not, of course. Billias was very foolish. However, some prudent caution is surely-'
'Then let us all be cautious in the morning,' said Carding cheerfully. 'Brothers, let us adjourn this meeting. The boy sleeps, and in that at least he is showing us the way. This will look better in the light.'
'I have seen things that didn't,' said Gravie darkly, who didn't trust Youthstaff,' he said. 'Who gave it to him? Did you ask?''No,' said Spelter, still glowering at the almanackical interjector.Carding started to look at his fingernails in what Spelter considered to be a meaningful way.Well, whatever the problem, I feel sure it can wait until morning,' he said in what Spelter felt was an ostentatiously bored voice.'Ye gods, he blew Billias away!' said Gravie. 'And they say there's nothing in Virrid's room but soot!''They were perhaps rather foolish,' said Carding smoothly. 'I am sure, my good brother, that you would not be defeated in affairs of the Art by a mere stripling?'Gravie hesitated. 'Well, er,' he said,
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