Winslow Homer The Herring NetWinslow Homer The Fog WarningWinslow Homer Rowing Home
and the dwarf walked towards it, occasionally barging into each other by deliberate accident.
'Anyway, you so clever, he gave paper to me?'
'Hah! Can you read it, then? Can you?'
'No, I tell you to read it. That called del-eg-ay-shun.'
'Hah! Can't read! Can't count! Stupid troll!'
'Not stupid!''How come you read notice? Get someone to hold you up?'
They walked into the door of the Alchemists' Guild.
'I knock. My job!'
'I'll knock!'
When Mr Sendivoge, the Guild secretary, opened the door it was to find a dwarf hanging on the knocker and being swung up and down by a troll. He adjusted his crash helmet.
'Yes?' he said.
Cuddy let go.'Hah! Yes? Everyone knows trolls can't even count up to four!''Eater of rats!''How many fingers am I holding up? You tell me, Mr Clever Rocks in the Head.''Many,' Detritus hazarded.'Har har, no, five. You'll be in big trouble on payday. Sergeant Colon'11 say, stupid troll, he won't know how many dollars I give him! Hah! How come you read the notice about joining the Watch, anyway? Got someone to read it to you?'
Detritus'massive brows knitted.
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Monday, April 27, 2009
Vincent van Gogh The potato eaters
Vincent van Gogh The potato eatersVincent van Gogh The Bedroom at ArlesVincent van Gogh Couple in the Park,Arles
Maybe the guards weren't so good now anyway. Politics. Hah! Watchmen like old Kepple would turn in their graves if they knew that the Watch had taken on a w—
And the world exploded.
The window blew in, peppering the wall behind Vimes'desk with fragments and cutting one of his ears.
He threw himself to the floor and rolled under the desk.
Right, that did it! The alchemists had blown up their Guild House for the last time, if Vimes had anything to do with it . . .of the city, such as they were, stopped outside the Guild Houses. The Guilds had their own laws. The Guild owned the . . .
He stopped.
Behind him, Lance-Constable Angua reached down and picked up a fragment of glass.
Then she stirred the debris with her foot.But when he peered over the window sill he saw, across the river, the column of dust rising over the Assassins' Guild . . . The rest of the Watch came trotting along Filigree Street as Vimes reached the Guild entrance. A couple of black-clad Assassins barred his way, in a polite manner which nevertheless indicated that impoliteness was a future option. There were sounds of hurrying feet behind the gates.'You see this badge? You see it?' Vimes demanded.'Nevertheless, this is Guild property,' said an Assassin.'Let us in, in the name of the law!' bellowed Vimes.The Assassin smiled nervously at him. 'The law is that Guild law prevails inside Guild walls,' he said.Vimes glared at him. But it was true. The laws
Maybe the guards weren't so good now anyway. Politics. Hah! Watchmen like old Kepple would turn in their graves if they knew that the Watch had taken on a w—
And the world exploded.
The window blew in, peppering the wall behind Vimes'desk with fragments and cutting one of his ears.
He threw himself to the floor and rolled under the desk.
Right, that did it! The alchemists had blown up their Guild House for the last time, if Vimes had anything to do with it . . .of the city, such as they were, stopped outside the Guild Houses. The Guilds had their own laws. The Guild owned the . . .
He stopped.
Behind him, Lance-Constable Angua reached down and picked up a fragment of glass.
Then she stirred the debris with her foot.But when he peered over the window sill he saw, across the river, the column of dust rising over the Assassins' Guild . . . The rest of the Watch came trotting along Filigree Street as Vimes reached the Guild entrance. A couple of black-clad Assassins barred his way, in a polite manner which nevertheless indicated that impoliteness was a future option. There were sounds of hurrying feet behind the gates.'You see this badge? You see it?' Vimes demanded.'Nevertheless, this is Guild property,' said an Assassin.'Let us in, in the name of the law!' bellowed Vimes.The Assassin smiled nervously at him. 'The law is that Guild law prevails inside Guild walls,' he said.Vimes glared at him. But it was true. The laws
Sunday, April 26, 2009
Johannes Vermeer View Of Delft
Johannes Vermeer View Of DelftJohannes Vermeer The Kitchen MaidDiane Romanello Sunset BeachGustav Klimt The Virgins (Le Vergini)
Ogg turned to look at it.
“She arranged it all!” said Magrat. “You know what
Verence is like. I mean, she hardly disguised who she was,
did she? And I got back and it was all arranged—“
“What would , in what Magrat thought of as her nursery voice.
“Yes, but she pushed me on one side and shut me up in
the castle and I got so wound up—“
“You were so angry that you actually stood Up to the Queen. You actually laid hands on her,” said Nanny. “Well done. The old Magrat wouldn’t have done that, would she? Esme could always see the real thing. Now nip out of the back door and look at the log pile, there’s a love.”you have done if nothing had been arranged?” said Nanny.Magrat looked momentarily taken aback.292LOR06 ft^O Lft0/£6“Well, I would ... I mean, if he had ... I’d—““You’d be getting married today, would you?” said Nanny, but in a distant voice, as if she was thinking about something else.“Well, that depends on—““You want to, don’t you?”“Well, yes, of course, but—““That’s nice, then,” said Nanny
Ogg turned to look at it.
“She arranged it all!” said Magrat. “You know what
Verence is like. I mean, she hardly disguised who she was,
did she? And I got back and it was all arranged—“
“What would , in what Magrat thought of as her nursery voice.
“Yes, but she pushed me on one side and shut me up in
the castle and I got so wound up—“
“You were so angry that you actually stood Up to the Queen. You actually laid hands on her,” said Nanny. “Well done. The old Magrat wouldn’t have done that, would she? Esme could always see the real thing. Now nip out of the back door and look at the log pile, there’s a love.”you have done if nothing had been arranged?” said Nanny.Magrat looked momentarily taken aback.292LOR06 ft^O Lft0/£6“Well, I would ... I mean, if he had ... I’d—““You’d be getting married today, would you?” said Nanny, but in a distant voice, as if she was thinking about something else.“Well, that depends on—““You want to, don’t you?”“Well, yes, of course, but—““That’s nice, then,” said Nanny
Friday, April 24, 2009
Pop art miles 1960, on rust
Pop art miles 1960, on rustPop art miles 1960, on bluePop art long stage ray
pleasing noise.”
“What?”
“Just thinking to myself.” Magrat stood up. “OK. I’ll build up the fire and fetch a couple of crossbows and load them up for you. And you keep the door shut and let no one in, d’you hear? And if I don’t come back ... try and go somewhere where there’s people. Get up to the dwarfs at Copperhead. Or the trolls.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to see what’s happened to everyone.”
Magrat opened the sack she’d brought down from the
armory. There was a helmet in it. It had wings on, and to
231or the other.”
“But—“
“Shut up!”
She’s going to get killed, Shawn thought. It’s enough to be able to pick up a sword. You Terry PratehettShawn’s mind was quite impractical.* There was also a pair of mail gloves and a choice assortment of rusty weaponry.“But there’s probably more of those things out there!”“Better out there than in here.”“Can you fight?”“Don’t know. Never tried,” said Magrat.“But if we wait here, someone’s bound to come.”“Yes. I’m afraid they will.”“What I mean is, you don’t have to do this!”“Yes I do. I’m getting married tomorrow. One way
pleasing noise.”
“What?”
“Just thinking to myself.” Magrat stood up. “OK. I’ll build up the fire and fetch a couple of crossbows and load them up for you. And you keep the door shut and let no one in, d’you hear? And if I don’t come back ... try and go somewhere where there’s people. Get up to the dwarfs at Copperhead. Or the trolls.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to see what’s happened to everyone.”
Magrat opened the sack she’d brought down from the
armory. There was a helmet in it. It had wings on, and to
231or the other.”
“But—“
“Shut up!”
She’s going to get killed, Shawn thought. It’s enough to be able to pick up a sword. You Terry PratehettShawn’s mind was quite impractical.* There was also a pair of mail gloves and a choice assortment of rusty weaponry.“But there’s probably more of those things out there!”“Better out there than in here.”“Can you fight?”“Don’t know. Never tried,” said Magrat.“But if we wait here, someone’s bound to come.”“Yes. I’m afraid they will.”“What I mean is, you don’t have to do this!”“Yes I do. I’m getting married tomorrow. One way
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Thomas Gainsborough River Landscape
Thomas Gainsborough River LandscapeThomas Gainsborough Mary Countess of HoweThomas Gainsborough John Plampin
Tis his delight every night,” said Jason.
“Hey,” said Baker the weaver, “we’re getting really good at this rude mechanism, ain’t we?”
“Let’s go right,” said Jason.
“Nah, it’s all briars and thorns that way.”
“All right, then, left then.”
141
Terry “Ah, come on,” said Weaver. “What’s wrong with it?”
“Goes up to the Dancers, that path does,” said Jason. “Me mam said no one was to go up to the Dancers ‘cos of them young women dancing round ‘em in the nudd.”
“Yeah, but they’ve been stopped from that,” said Thatcher. “Old Granny Weatherwax put her foot down hard and made ‘em put their drawers on.”
“And they ain’t to go there anymore, neither,” said Carter. “So it’ll be nice and quiet for the rehearsing.”
“Me mam said no one was to go there,” said JasonPratchett“It’s all winding,” said Weaver.“What about the middle road?” said Carter.Jason peered ahead.There was a middle track, hardly more than an animalpath, which wound away under shady trees. Ferns grewthickly alongside it. There was a general green, rich, darkfeel to it, suggested by the word “bosky”*His blacksmith’s senses stood up and screamed.“Not that way,” he said.
Tis his delight every night,” said Jason.
“Hey,” said Baker the weaver, “we’re getting really good at this rude mechanism, ain’t we?”
“Let’s go right,” said Jason.
“Nah, it’s all briars and thorns that way.”
“All right, then, left then.”
141
Terry “Ah, come on,” said Weaver. “What’s wrong with it?”
“Goes up to the Dancers, that path does,” said Jason. “Me mam said no one was to go up to the Dancers ‘cos of them young women dancing round ‘em in the nudd.”
“Yeah, but they’ve been stopped from that,” said Thatcher. “Old Granny Weatherwax put her foot down hard and made ‘em put their drawers on.”
“And they ain’t to go there anymore, neither,” said Carter. “So it’ll be nice and quiet for the rehearsing.”
“Me mam said no one was to go there,” said JasonPratchett“It’s all winding,” said Weaver.“What about the middle road?” said Carter.Jason peered ahead.There was a middle track, hardly more than an animalpath, which wound away under shady trees. Ferns grewthickly alongside it. There was a general green, rich, darkfeel to it, suggested by the word “bosky”*His blacksmith’s senses stood up and screamed.“Not that way,” he said.
Monday, April 20, 2009
George Bellows Fog Rainbow
George Bellows Fog RainbowGeorge Bellows Both Members of This ClubGeorge Bellows Anne in White
flowed out from the ears like porridge. It was the kind of landscape where, if you saw a distant figure cutting cab-bages, you’d watch him until he was out of sight because there was simply nothing else for the eye to do.
“I spy,” said the Bursar, “with my little eye, something beginning with .. . H.”
“Oook.”
“No.”
“Horizon,” said Ponder.
“You guessed!”
“Of course I guessed. I’m supposed to guess. We’ve had S for Sky, C for Cabbage, 0 for ... for Ook, and there’s nothing else.”
“I’m not on it. Someone was going to suffer for this.
The Bursar was trying to use his hat like a limpet uses its shell.
86
LOR08 ft/VO iftQ/£6going to play anymore if you’re going to guess.” The Bursar pulled his hat down over his ears and tried to curl up on the hard seat.“There’ll be lots to see in Lancre,” said the Archchancellor. “The only piece of flat land they’ve got up there is in a museum.”Ponder said nothing.“Used to spend whole summers up there,” said Ridcully. He sighed. “You know . . . things could have been very different.”Ridcully looked around. If you’re going to relate an inti-mate piece of personal history, you want to be sure it’s going to be heard.The Librarian looked out at the jolting scenery. He was sulking. This had a lot to do with the new bright blue collar around his neck with the word “PONGO’
“There was this girl.”
flowed out from the ears like porridge. It was the kind of landscape where, if you saw a distant figure cutting cab-bages, you’d watch him until he was out of sight because there was simply nothing else for the eye to do.
“I spy,” said the Bursar, “with my little eye, something beginning with .. . H.”
“Oook.”
“No.”
“Horizon,” said Ponder.
“You guessed!”
“Of course I guessed. I’m supposed to guess. We’ve had S for Sky, C for Cabbage, 0 for ... for Ook, and there’s nothing else.”
“I’m not on it. Someone was going to suffer for this.
The Bursar was trying to use his hat like a limpet uses its shell.
86
LOR08 ft/VO iftQ/£6going to play anymore if you’re going to guess.” The Bursar pulled his hat down over his ears and tried to curl up on the hard seat.“There’ll be lots to see in Lancre,” said the Archchancellor. “The only piece of flat land they’ve got up there is in a museum.”Ponder said nothing.“Used to spend whole summers up there,” said Ridcully. He sighed. “You know . . . things could have been very different.”Ridcully looked around. If you’re going to relate an inti-mate piece of personal history, you want to be sure it’s going to be heard.The Librarian looked out at the jolting scenery. He was sulking. This had a lot to do with the new bright blue collar around his neck with the word “PONGO’
“There was this girl.”
Thursday, April 16, 2009
Andy Warhol Pink Cow
Andy Warhol Pink CowAndy Warhol Ingrid with HatAndy Warhol Flowers 1964
Simony clenched his fists in anger.
"Look . . . listen . . . We died for lies, for centuries we died for lies." He waved a hand towards the god. "Now we've got a truth to die for!"
"No. Men should die for lies, every day of along life."
"And how long is that going to be?"
"We shall see."
Brutha looked up at Om.
"You will not show yourself like this again?"
Chap. III v. I. No. Once Is Enough.
"Remember Urn and Simony watched him go.
"He's going to die," said Simony. "He won't even be a patch of grease on the sand." He turned to Om. "Can you stop him?"
III. It May Be That I Cannot.
Brutha was already halfway across the Place.
"Well, we're not deserting him," said Simony.the desert."II. I Will Remember."Walk with me."Brutha went over to the body of Vorbis and picked it up."I think," he said, "that they will land on the beach on the Ephebian side of the forts. They won't use the rock shore and they can't use the cliffs. I'll meet them there." He glanced down at Vorbis. "Someone should.""You can't mean you want to go by yourself?""Ten thousand won't be sufficient. One might be enough."He walked down the steps.
IV. Good.
Simony clenched his fists in anger.
"Look . . . listen . . . We died for lies, for centuries we died for lies." He waved a hand towards the god. "Now we've got a truth to die for!"
"No. Men should die for lies, every day of along life."
"And how long is that going to be?"
"We shall see."
Brutha looked up at Om.
"You will not show yourself like this again?"
Chap. III v. I. No. Once Is Enough.
"Remember Urn and Simony watched him go.
"He's going to die," said Simony. "He won't even be a patch of grease on the sand." He turned to Om. "Can you stop him?"
III. It May Be That I Cannot.
Brutha was already halfway across the Place.
"Well, we're not deserting him," said Simony.the desert."II. I Will Remember."Walk with me."Brutha went over to the body of Vorbis and picked it up."I think," he said, "that they will land on the beach on the Ephebian side of the forts. They won't use the rock shore and they can't use the cliffs. I'll meet them there." He glanced down at Vorbis. "Someone should.""You can't mean you want to go by yourself?""Ten thousand won't be sufficient. One might be enough."He walked down the steps.
IV. Good.
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