Mark Spain Dance IMark Spain Crescendo IIMark Spain Crescendo I
Being Queen? It’s all tapestry and walking around in unsuitable dresses! I know Granny. She doesn’t like anything that’s . .. that’s got style and grace. She’s so sour.”
“I daresay she’s got her reasons,” said Nanny amiably. “Well, that’s got the girl patched up. What shall we do with her now?”
155
Terry Pratchett
“We’ve got dozens of spare bedrooms,” said Magrat, “and they’re all ready for the guests. We can put her in one of them. Um. Nanny?”
“Yes?”.
The cook here isn’t much good at canapes and things.”
Nanny looked carefully at the ceiling.
“And what about after that?” she said. “If you catch my meaning.”
“I’m getting a lot of girls in to do the clearing up. Look, don’t worry. I’ve thought “Would you like to be a bridesmaid?”“Not really, dear. Bit old for that sort of thing.” Nanny hovered. “There isn’t anything you need to ask me, though, is there?”“What do you mean?”“What with your mum being dead and you having no female relatives and everything...”Magrat still looked puzzled.“After the wedding, is what I’m hinting about,” said Nanny.“Oh, that. No, most of that’s being done by a caterer
Tuesday, 21 April 2009
Monday, 20 April 2009
Mark Spain Reflection
Mark Spain ReflectionMark Spain Pure EleganceMark Spain Only You
happens then is, the two queens—that’s the old queen,
right? and the new queen—the two queens start astalkin’
one another among the combs, with the rain adrummin’ on
the roof of the hive, and the business of the hive agoin’ on
all around them,” Mr. Brooks moved his hands graphically,
and Magrat the look of beehives, up until now.
“Many’s the time I’ve found a dead queen in front of the hive after a spell of wet weather,” said Mr. Brooks, happily. “Can’t abide another queen around the place, you know. And it’s a right old battle, too. The old queen’s more cun-nin’. But the new queen, she’s really got everything to fight for.”
“Sorry?”
“If she wants to be mated.”leaned forward, “all among the combs, thedrones all hummin’, and all the time they can sense oneanother, ‘cos they can tell, see, and then they spots oneanother and—““Yes? Yes?” said Magrat, leaning forward.“Slash! Stab!”Magrat hit her head on the wall of the hut.“Can’t have more’n one queen in a hive,” said Mr.Brooks calmly.Magrat looked out at the hives. She’d always liked
happens then is, the two queens—that’s the old queen,
right? and the new queen—the two queens start astalkin’
one another among the combs, with the rain adrummin’ on
the roof of the hive, and the business of the hive agoin’ on
all around them,” Mr. Brooks moved his hands graphically,
and Magrat the look of beehives, up until now.
“Many’s the time I’ve found a dead queen in front of the hive after a spell of wet weather,” said Mr. Brooks, happily. “Can’t abide another queen around the place, you know. And it’s a right old battle, too. The old queen’s more cun-nin’. But the new queen, she’s really got everything to fight for.”
“Sorry?”
“If she wants to be mated.”leaned forward, “all among the combs, thedrones all hummin’, and all the time they can sense oneanother, ‘cos they can tell, see, and then they spots oneanother and—““Yes? Yes?” said Magrat, leaning forward.“Slash! Stab!”Magrat hit her head on the wall of the hut.“Can’t have more’n one queen in a hive,” said Mr.Brooks calmly.Magrat looked out at the hives. She’d always liked
Friday, 17 April 2009
Cao Yong Freedom
Cao Yong FreedomCao Yong Day of LoveCao Yong COOL WATER
this the same consideration as would a nuclear physicist who’d just been told that someone was bang-ing two bits of sub-critical uranium together to keep warm.
“They never,” she said.
“They have. And another thing ...”
It was hard to imagine what other thing there could be, but Nanny Ogg said “Yes?” anyway.
“Not that many wizards were aware of this. For roost of the wizards of Unseen University their lunch was the first meal of the day. They were not, by and large, breakfast people. The Archchancellor and the Librarian were the only two who knew what the dawn looked like from the front, and they tended to have the entire campus to themselves for several hours.
The Librarian was always up early because he was an orang-utan, and they are naturally early risers, although in his case he didn’t bellow a few times to keep other males off his territory. He just unlocked the Library Someone got killed up here.”“ “Oh, no,” moaned Nanny Ogg. “Not inside the circle too.”“Nope. Don’t be daft. It was outside. A tall man. He had one leg longer’n the other. And a beard. He was probably Terry Pratchett“How’d you know all that?”“I just trod on ‘im.”The sun rose through the mists.The morning rays were already caressing the ancient stones of Unseen University, premier college of wizardry, five hun-dred miles away.
this the same consideration as would a nuclear physicist who’d just been told that someone was bang-ing two bits of sub-critical uranium together to keep warm.
“They never,” she said.
“They have. And another thing ...”
It was hard to imagine what other thing there could be, but Nanny Ogg said “Yes?” anyway.
“Not that many wizards were aware of this. For roost of the wizards of Unseen University their lunch was the first meal of the day. They were not, by and large, breakfast people. The Archchancellor and the Librarian were the only two who knew what the dawn looked like from the front, and they tended to have the entire campus to themselves for several hours.
The Librarian was always up early because he was an orang-utan, and they are naturally early risers, although in his case he didn’t bellow a few times to keep other males off his territory. He just unlocked the Library Someone got killed up here.”“ “Oh, no,” moaned Nanny Ogg. “Not inside the circle too.”“Nope. Don’t be daft. It was outside. A tall man. He had one leg longer’n the other. And a beard. He was probably Terry Pratchett“How’d you know all that?”“I just trod on ‘im.”The sun rose through the mists.The morning rays were already caressing the ancient stones of Unseen University, premier college of wizardry, five hun-dred miles away.
Thursday, 16 April 2009
Claude Monet Monet Spring Flowers
Claude Monet Monet Spring FlowersClaude Monet The Red Boats ArgenteuilClaude Monet Poplars on the Epte
remembered Didactylos saying the world was a funny place. And, he thought distantly, it really was. Here people were about to roast someone to death, but they'd left his loin-cloth on, out of respectability. You had to laugh. Otherwise you'd go mad.
"You know," he said, turning to Simony. "Now I know Vorbis is evil. He burned my city. Well, the Tsorteans do it sometimes, and weI'm sure of-maybe four hundred on our side. So I give the signal and a few hundred of us attack thousands of them? And he dies anyway and we die too? What difference does that make?"
Urn's face was gray with horror now.
"You mean you don't know?" he said.
Some of the crowd looked round curiously at him.
"You don't know?" he said. burn theirs. It's just war. It's all part of history. And he lies and cheats and claws power for himself, and lots of people do that, too. But do you know what's special? Do you know what it is?""Of course," said Simony. "It's what he's doing to-”"It's what he's done to you.""What?""He turns other people into copies of himself."Simony's grip was like a vice. "You're saying I'm like him?""Once you said you'd cut him down," said Urn. "Now you're thinking like him . . ."So we rush them, then?" said Simony. "
remembered Didactylos saying the world was a funny place. And, he thought distantly, it really was. Here people were about to roast someone to death, but they'd left his loin-cloth on, out of respectability. You had to laugh. Otherwise you'd go mad.
"You know," he said, turning to Simony. "Now I know Vorbis is evil. He burned my city. Well, the Tsorteans do it sometimes, and weI'm sure of-maybe four hundred on our side. So I give the signal and a few hundred of us attack thousands of them? And he dies anyway and we die too? What difference does that make?"
Urn's face was gray with horror now.
"You mean you don't know?" he said.
Some of the crowd looked round curiously at him.
"You don't know?" he said. burn theirs. It's just war. It's all part of history. And he lies and cheats and claws power for himself, and lots of people do that, too. But do you know what's special? Do you know what it is?""Of course," said Simony. "It's what he's doing to-”"It's what he's done to you.""What?""He turns other people into copies of himself."Simony's grip was like a vice. "You're saying I'm like him?""Once you said you'd cut him down," said Urn. "Now you're thinking like him . . ."So we rush them, then?" said Simony. "
Wednesday, 15 April 2009
Joseph Mallord William Turner The Slave Ship
Joseph Mallord William Turner The Slave ShipJoseph Mallord William Turner The fighting Temeraire tugged to her last berth to be broken upJoseph Mallord William Turner The Burning of the Houses of Parliament
Brutha awoke with the smell of the sea in his nostrils. At least it was what people think of as the smell of the sea, which is the stink of antique fish and rotten seaweed.
He was in someplace inside our head? What did you go and do that for?"
"I . . . don't know. It seemed like . . . the next thing to do. Where are you?"
"Your soldier friend has got me in his pack. Thanks for looking after me so carefully, by the way."
Brutha managed to get to his feet. The world revolved round him for a moment, adding a third astronomical theory to the two currently occupying the minds of local thinkers. sort of shed. Such light as managed to come through its one unglazed window was red, and flickered. One end of the shed was open to the water. The ruddy light showed a few figures clustered around something there.Brutha gently probed the contents of his memory. Everything seemed to be there, the Library scrolls neatly arranged. The words were as meaningless to him as any other written word, but the pictures were interesting. More interesting than most things in his memory, anyway.He sat up, carefully."You're awake, then," said the voice of Om, in his head. "Feel a bit full, do we? Feel a bit like a stack of shelves? Feel like we've got big notices saying "SILENCIOS!" all over the
Brutha awoke with the smell of the sea in his nostrils. At least it was what people think of as the smell of the sea, which is the stink of antique fish and rotten seaweed.
He was in someplace inside our head? What did you go and do that for?"
"I . . . don't know. It seemed like . . . the next thing to do. Where are you?"
"Your soldier friend has got me in his pack. Thanks for looking after me so carefully, by the way."
Brutha managed to get to his feet. The world revolved round him for a moment, adding a third astronomical theory to the two currently occupying the minds of local thinkers. sort of shed. Such light as managed to come through its one unglazed window was red, and flickered. One end of the shed was open to the water. The ruddy light showed a few figures clustered around something there.Brutha gently probed the contents of his memory. Everything seemed to be there, the Library scrolls neatly arranged. The words were as meaningless to him as any other written word, but the pictures were interesting. More interesting than most things in his memory, anyway.He sat up, carefully."You're awake, then," said the voice of Om, in his head. "Feel a bit full, do we? Feel a bit like a stack of shelves? Feel like we've got big notices saying "SILENCIOS!" all over the
Tuesday, 14 April 2009
Frederic Edwin Church Twilight in the Wilderness
Frederic Edwin Church Twilight in the WildernessJulius LeBlanc Stewart At HomeTitian Sacred and Profane Love
desert. After death, a desert. The desert. No hells, yet. Perhaps there was hope.
He remembered a story from his childhood. Unusually, it wasn't about smiting. No one was trampled underfoot. It wasn't about Om, dreadful in His rage. It was worse. It was about what happened when you died . . . the journey of your soul.
They said: you must walk a desert . . .
"Where is this place?" he said hoarsely.
THIS IS AND NOW, IF YOU WILL EXCUSE ME-
Fri'it took a deep breath, purely out of habit. Perhaps he could find a couple of rocks out there. A small rock to hold and a big rock to hide behind, while he waited for Vorbis . . .
And that thought was habit, too. Revenge? Here?
He smiled.NO PLACE, said Death .. . . all alone . . ."What is at the end of the desert?"JUDGEMENT .. . . with your beliefs . . .Fri'it stared at the endless, featureless expanse."I have to walk it alone?" he whispered. "But . . . now, I'm not sure what I believe-”YES?
desert. After death, a desert. The desert. No hells, yet. Perhaps there was hope.
He remembered a story from his childhood. Unusually, it wasn't about smiting. No one was trampled underfoot. It wasn't about Om, dreadful in His rage. It was worse. It was about what happened when you died . . . the journey of your soul.
They said: you must walk a desert . . .
"Where is this place?" he said hoarsely.
THIS IS AND NOW, IF YOU WILL EXCUSE ME-
Fri'it took a deep breath, purely out of habit. Perhaps he could find a couple of rocks out there. A small rock to hold and a big rock to hide behind, while he waited for Vorbis . . .
And that thought was habit, too. Revenge? Here?
He smiled.NO PLACE, said Death .. . . all alone . . ."What is at the end of the desert?"JUDGEMENT .. . . with your beliefs . . .Fri'it stared at the endless, featureless expanse."I have to walk it alone?" he whispered. "But . . . now, I'm not sure what I believe-”YES?
Monday, 13 April 2009
Joseph Mallord William Turner Rain, Steam and Speed - The Great Western Railway
Joseph Mallord William Turner Rain, Steam and Speed - The Great Western RailwayGustave Courbet MarineGustave Courbet Woman with a Parrot
many talking tortoises have you met?" it said sarcastically.
"I don't know," said Brutha.
"What "Novice, not priest. They won't let me-”
"Get him!"
"But I don't think the Cenobiarch ever comes into our vegetable garden," said Brutha. "I don't think he even knows what a melon is. "
"I'm not bothered about that," said the tortoise. "Fetch him now, or there d'you mean, you don't know?""Well, they might all talk," said Brutha conscientiously, demonstrating the very personal kind of logic that got him Extra Melons. "They just might not say anything when I'm there.""I am the Great God Om," said the tortoise, in a menacing and unavoidably low voice, "and before very long you are going to be a very unfortunate priest. Go and get him.""Novice," said Brutha."What?"
many talking tortoises have you met?" it said sarcastically.
"I don't know," said Brutha.
"What "Novice, not priest. They won't let me-”
"Get him!"
"But I don't think the Cenobiarch ever comes into our vegetable garden," said Brutha. "I don't think he even knows what a melon is. "
"I'm not bothered about that," said the tortoise. "Fetch him now, or there d'you mean, you don't know?""Well, they might all talk," said Brutha conscientiously, demonstrating the very personal kind of logic that got him Extra Melons. "They just might not say anything when I'm there.""I am the Great God Om," said the tortoise, in a menacing and unavoidably low voice, "and before very long you are going to be a very unfortunate priest. Go and get him.""Novice," said Brutha."What?"
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