Tuesday, March 31, 2009

Gustav Klimt Portrait of Adele Bloch Bauer

Gustav Klimt Portrait of Adele Bloch BauerBerthe Morisot At the BallClaude Monet Woman In A Green DressClaude Monet Terrace at St AdresseClaude Monet Cliffs Near Dieppe
Several young women,’ said the Dean.
Windle Poons focused unsteadily on the poster.
‘Who’s the young feller?’ he said.
‘What young feller?’ said several wizards.
‘He’s in the demeaning for a wizard to patronize the common entertainments. The Archchancellor would be very angry with us.’
‘Wassat?’ have been a wizard,’ said the Dean. ‘Why would he want to go off and fondle young women?’
‘It’s a Victor all right, but not our Victor. Says here he’s "Victor Maraschino",’ said the Chair.
‘Oh, that’s just a click name,’ said the Lecturer in Recent Runes airily. ‘They all have funny names like that. Delores De Syn and Blanche Languish and Rock Cliffe and so on . . . ‘ He realized that they were looking at him accusingly. ‘Or so I’m told,’ he added lamely. ‘By the porter. He goes to see a click nearly every night.’middle of the picture,’ said Poons. ‘He’s holding her in his arms.’They looked again. ‘Oh, him,’ said the Chair, dismissively.‘Seems to me I’ve, mm, seen him before,’ said Poons.‘My dear Poons, I hope you haven’t been sneaking off to the moving pictures,’ said the Dean, grinning at the others. ‘You know it’s

Monday, March 30, 2009

Thomas Moran Moonlit Seascape

Thomas Moran Moonlit SeascapeThomas Moran Grand Canyon of the YellowstoneThomas Moran Cresheim Glen, Wissahickon, AutumnThomas Moran Colburn's Butte, South UtahThomas Moran Cliffs of the Upper Colorado river
looked far more like Ankh‑Morpork than Ankh‑Morpork ever had.

Ginger had been ushered off to the changing tents before Victor had a chance to speak to her, and then shooting started and it was too late.
Century of song, which had rather caught on among holy Wood’s dwarf population.
It was just possible that Soll knew how it all fitted together. Victor didn’t. It was always best, he had learned, never to try to follow the plot of any click you were in, and in any case Soll wasn’t just shooting back to front but sides to middle as well. It was totally confusing, just like real life.
When he did get a chance to talk to Ginger, two handlemen and everyone else in the Fruitbat (and now it said on the sign, in slightly smaller type: More Stars than There Are in the that a click should be made in less than ten times the time it took to watch. Blown Away was going to be different. There were battles. There were night scenes, the imps painting away furiously by torchlight. Dwarfs worked merrily in a mine never seen before or since, where fake gold nuggets the size of chickens had been stuck in the plaster walls. Since Soll demanded that their lips should be seen to move they sang a risque version of the ‘Hihohiho’

Friday, March 27, 2009

Pierre Auguste Renoir At the Concert

Pierre Auguste Renoir At the ConcertPierre Auguste Renoir After The BathPierre Auguste Renoir After The Bath 1888Thomas Kinkade The old fishing holeThomas Kinkade The Light of Freedom
right.’
‘we’re doing one about going to see a wizard. Something about following a yellow sick toad,’ a man in one half of a lion suit explained to a companion in the queue.
‘No wizards in Holy Wood, I thought.’
‘Oh, this one’s all right. He’s not very good at the wizarding.’
‘So what’s new?’
Sound! That was the problem. Alchemists toiled in sheds all over Holy Wood, screaming at parrots, pleading with mynah birds, constructing intricate bottles to trap sound and bounce it When will the time be right, then?’ said Victor. Gaspode grinned nastily. ‘Oh, I reckon when Dibbler’s just got a mouthful of food’d be favourite.’ Holy Wood Hill bustled like an ant heap. On the seaward side Fir Wood Studios were making The Third Gnome. Microlithic Pictures, which was run almost entirely by the dwarfs, was hard at work on Golde Diggers of 1457, which was going to be followed by The Golde Rushe. Floating Bladder Pictures was hard at work with Turkey Legs. And Borgle’s was packed out. ‘I don’t know what it’s called, but

Thursday, March 26, 2009

Vincent van Gogh Roses

Vincent van Gogh RosesFrancois Boucher The Marquise de PompadourFrank Dicksee PassionAndrea del Sarto Holy FamilyAndrea del Sarto Madonna of the Harpies
From behind the rocks came the plaintive bleat of Silverfish wondering where everyone had got to just when he needed them. The girl rolled her eyes.
‘Oh gods. For this I’m missing lunch?’
‘You could ‘Chances are where you find them, I’ve always said,’ said Victor.
‘But how–’
Victor had already strolled away with gleeful nonchalance. She trailed after him, her face locked in a petulant pout.
‘Ah,’ said Silverfish sarcastically, looking up. ‘My word. Everyone always eat it off my forehead,’ said Victor, standing up. He had the satisfaction of feeling her thoughtful gaze on the back of his neck as he retrieved his sword and gave it a few experimental swishes, with rather more force than was necessary. ‘You’re the boy in the street, aren’t you?’ she said. ‘That’s right. You’re the girl who was going to be shot,’ said Victor. ‘I see they missed.’ She looked at him curiously. ‘How did you get a job so quickly? Most people have to wait weeks for a chance.’

Wednesday, March 25, 2009

Pedro Alvarez Tango Argentino

Pedro Alvarez Tango ArgentinoCassius Marcellus Coolidge A Bold BluffEdvard Munch NudeEdvard Munch MoonlightEdvard Munch Girls on a Bridge
there were just some people putting up a big screen, like a bedsheet stretched between poles.
He sauntered over to them. ‘What’re you doing?’ he said amiably.
‘There’s going to be a performance.’
‘Oh. Acting,’ said Victor, without much interest.
He coming at me with a knife. That means I’m either going to get stabbed or I’m going to have to run away, which is a real waste of energy.
People who didn’t apply themselves to the facts in hand might have thought that Victor Tugelbend would be fat and unhealthy. In fact, he was undoubtedly the most athletically-inclined student in the University. Having to haul around extra poundage was far too much effort, so he saw to it that he never put it on and he kept himself in trim because doing things with decent muscles was far less effort than trying to achieve things with bags of flab. mooched back through the damp darkness, but stopped when he heard a voice coming from the gloom between two buildings. The voice said ‘Help’, quite quietly. Another voice said, ‘Just hand it over, right?’ Victor wandered closer, and squinted into the shadows. ‘Hallo?’ he said. ‘Is everything all right?’ There was a pause, and then a low voice said, ‘You don’t know what’s good for you, kid.’ He’s got a knife, Victor thought. He’s

Monday, March 23, 2009

Jean Francois Millet Spring

Jean Francois Millet SpringJean Francois Millet Man with a hoeLorenzo Lotto Venus and CupidJean Fragonard The BathersThomas Gainsborough Mrs Sheridan
a bit like flarelight, I think.'
Ptaclusp hadn't got where he was today - no, he'd have to correct himself - hadn't got to where he had been last night without eventually seeing the advantages in the Unlikeliest situations.
'He'll instability there.'
'Dad, it's a pyramid! We should have flared it! I told you! The forces involved, well, it's just too-'
A shadow fell across them. They looked around. They looked up. They looked up a bit more.
'Oh, my,' said Ptaclusp. 'It's Hat, the Vulture-Headed God...'

Ephebe lay beyond them, a classical poem of white marble lazing around its rock on a bay of brilliant blue-
'What's that?' said Ptraci, after studying it critically for some time.save on clothing,' he said slowly. 'I mean, he can just paint it on.' 'I don't think you've quite got the idea, dad,' said IIb wearily. He sat down beside his father and stared across the river to the palace. 'Something going on over there,' said Ptaclusp. 'Do you think they've noticed the pyramid?' 'I shouldn't be surprised. It's moved around ninety degrees, after all.' Ptaclusp looked over his shoulder, and nodded slowly. 'Funny, that,' he said. 'Bit of structural

Friday, March 20, 2009

Jack Vettriano Model in Black

Jack Vettriano Model in BlackJack Vettriano Model at MirrorJack Vettriano Mirror MirrorJack Vettriano Mind BendingJack Vettriano Midnight Blue
We're really big on them. If you ever need any stone and sand, we're the people for you. It's fitting out the insides that is really expensive. We're still avoiding paying for grandfather's, and that wasn't very big. Just three chambers.' Teppic turned and looked out of the window; they were back in the dormitory at this point.
'The whole kingdom's in debt,' he said, quietly. 'I mean even our debts are in debt. That's why I'm here, really. Someone in our house needs to earn some money. A royal prince can't hang around looking ornamental any more. He's got to get out and do something useful in the community.'
Chidder leaned on the window sill.
'Couldn't 'That's Fliemoe. Watch out for him. If he invites you for toast in his study, don't go.'
'And who's the little kid with the curls?' said Teppic. He pointed to a small lad receiving the attentions of a washed-out looking lady. She was licking her handkerchief and dabbing apparent smudges off his you take some of the stuff out of the pyramids, then?' he said. 'Don't be silly.' 'Sorry.' Teppic gloomily watched the figures below. 'There's a lot of people here,' he said, to change the subject. 'I didn't realise it would be so big.' He shivered. 'Or so cold,' he added. 'People drop out all the time,' said Chidder. 'Can't stand the course. The important thing is to know what's what and who's who. See that fellow over there?' Teppic followed his pointing finger to a group of older students, who were lounging against the pillars by the entrance. 'The big one? Face like the end of your boot?'

Wednesday, March 18, 2009

Andrew Atroshenko Just for Love

Andrew Atroshenko Just for LoveEdward Hopper Two on the AisleEdward Hopper Corn Hill Truro Cape CodEdward Hopper Bridle PathAmedeo Modigliani Landscape
There was yet another rattle of thunder, which ended with the kind of crash made, for example, by a sheet of tin escaping from someone's hands and hitting the wall.
In the world outside the stage the heat pressed down like a pillow, squeezing the very life out of the air. Granny saw a footman bend down to the duke's ear. No, he won't stop the play. Of course he won't. He wants it to run its feet of foundations, flagstones, one thickness of leather and two thicknesses of sock. She felt it waiting.
She heard the king say, 'My own flesh and blood? Why has he done this to me? I'm going to confront him!'
She gently took Nanny Ogg's hand.course.The duke must have felt the heat of her gaze on the back of his neck. He turned, focused on her, and gave her a strange little smile. Then he nudged his wife. They both laughed.Granny Weatherwax was often angry. She considered it one of her strong points. Genuine anger was one of the world's great creative forces. But you had to learn how to control it. That didn't mean you let it trickle away. It meant you dammed it, carefully, let it develop a working head, let it drown whole valleys of the mind and then, just when the whole structure was about to collapse, opened a tiny pipeline at the base and let the iron-hard stream of wrath power the turbines of revenge.She felt the land below her, even through several

Tuesday, March 17, 2009

Johannes Vermeer Saint Praxidis

Johannes Vermeer Saint PraxidisJohannes Vermeer Lady Standing at a VirginalJohannes Vermeer A Lady Writing a LetterUnknown Artist Wooded LandscapeUnknown Artist The Wetterhorn with the Reichenbachtal
'It's five hundred miles away!' said Magrat. 'You'll be away for ages!'
'I can't help it,' said the Fool. 'The duke's given me special instructions. He trusts me.'
'Huh! To hire more soldiers, I expect?'
'No. Nothing like that. Not as bad as that.' The Fool hesitated. He'd introduced Felmet to the world of words. Surely that was better than hitting people with swords? Wouldn't that buy time? Wouldn't it be best for everybody, in the circumstances?
'But you don't have to go! You don't want to go!'
'That doesn't be pathetic if I broke my word,' he said. 'But I may be incredibly ill-advised. I'm sorry. I'll be back in a few weeks, anyway.'
'Don't you understand I'm asking you not to listen to him?'
'I said I'm sorry. I couldn't see you again befohave much to do with it. I promised to be loyal to him—''Yes, yes, until you're dead. But you don't even believe that! You were telling me how much you hated the whole Guild and everything!''Well, yes. But I still have to do it. I gave my word.'Magrat came close to stamping her foot, but didn't sink so low.'Just when we were getting to know one another!' she shouted. 'You're pathetic!'The Fool's eyes narrowed. 'I'd only re I go, could I?'
'I shall be washing my hair,' said Magrat stiffly.
'When?'

Monday, March 16, 2009

Andrea del Sarto Madonna of the Harpies

Andrea del Sarto Madonna of the HarpiesSalvador Dali Equestrian Fantasy - Portrait of Lady DunnSalvador Dali Cruxifixion (Hypercubic Body)John Singleton Copley The Tribute MoneyJohn Singleton Copley The Death of Major Pierson
'Huh,' said Granny. 'A man who tinkles all day. No kind of husband for anyone, I'd say.'
'You – she'd always know where he was,' said Nanny, who was enjoying this. 'You'd just have to listen.'
'Never trust a man with horns on his hat,' said Granny flatly.
Magrat stood up and pulled herself together, giving the impression that some bits had to come quite a long way.
'You're a pair of silly old women,' she said quietly. 'And I'm going home.'
She marched off down the path to her village without another word.
The old witches stared at one another.
'Well!' of human nature. You'd know that if you'd ever—'
'If I'd ever what?' said Granny Weatherwax, quietly.
They stared at one another in shocked silence. They could both feel it, the tension creeping into their bodies from the ground itself, the hot, aching feeling that they'd started something they must finish, no matter said Nanny.'It's all these books they read today,' said Granny. 'It overheats the brain. You haven't been putting ideas in her head, have you?''What do you mean?''You know what I mean.'Nanny stood up. 'I certainly don't see why a girl should have to be single her whole life just because you think it's the right thing,' she said. 'Anyway, if people didn't have children, where would we be?''None of your girls is a witch,' said Granny, also standing up.'They could have been,' said Nanny defensively.'Yes, if you'd let them work it out for themselves, instead of encouragin' them to throw themselves at men.''They're good-lookin'. You can't stand in the way

Sunday, March 15, 2009

Jean Fragonard The Love Letter

Jean Fragonard The Love LetterJean Fragonard The BoltJoaquin Sorolla y Bastida The Two SistersJoaquin Sorolla y Bastida MariaAlexandre Cabanel Ophelia
'You're not after telling me how to look after a child,' snapped Nanny Ogg mildly. 'And me with fifteen of my own?'
'I'm just saying that we ought to think about it,' said Granny.
The other two watched her for some time. 'Well?' said Magrat.
Granny's fingers drummed on the edge of the crown. She frowned.
'First, we'vefound, anyway. They kind of call out to people's minds. If you bunged it under a stone up here, in a week's time it'd get itself discovered by accident. You mark my words.'
'It's true, is that,' said Nanny Ogg, earnestly. 'How many times have you thrown a magic ring into the deepest depths of the ocean and then, when you get home and have a nice bit of turbot for your tea, there it is?'
They considered this in silence. got to take him away from here,' she said, and held up a hand. 'No, Gytha, I'm sure your cottage is ideal and everything, but it's not safe. He's got to be somewhere away from here, a long way away, where no-one knows who he is. And then there's this.' She tossed the crown from hand to hand.'Oh, that's easy,' said Magrat. 'I mean, you just hide it under a stone or something. That's easy. Much easier than babies.''It ain't,' said Granny. The reason being, the country's full of babies and they all look the same, but I don't reckon there's many crowns. They have this way of being

Friday, March 13, 2009

Edward Hopper Jo in Wyoming

Edward Hopper Jo in WyomingEdward Hopper Hills South TruroEdward Hopper High Road
The tiny sun rolled down towards the horizon, towing its lazy daylight behind it. The clouds ahead grew, and became outlined in pink and orange. After a while he could make out the darker blur of land below them, with here and there to direct the horse towards a seaport a little Rimwards of their present course.
There were a few ships at anchor, mostly single-sailed coastal traders. The Empire didn't encourage its subjects to go far away, in case they saw things that might disturb them. For the same reason it had built a wall around the entire country, patrolled by the Heavenly Guard whose main function was to tread heavily on the fingers of any inhabitants who felt they might like to step outside for five minutes for a breath of fresh air.
This didn't happen often, because most of the subjects of the Sun Emperor were quite happy to live inside the lights of a city.Half an hour later he was sure he could see individual buildings. Agatean architecture inclined towards squat pyramids.Binky lost height until his hooves were barely a few feet above the sea. Mort examined the hourglass again, and gently tugged on the reins

Wednesday, March 11, 2009

Les Vins Blancs

Les Vins BlancsGeorge Stubbs Horse Attacked by a LionSalvador Dali The Land of Milk and Honey
'Your apprentice, master,' said Albert patiently. Tall young lad.'
OF COURSE. WELL, WE'LL SEND HIM.
'Is he ready to go solo, master?' said Albert doubtfully.
Death thought about it. HE CAN DO IT, he said at ast. HE'S KEEN, HE'S QUICK TO LEARN AND, REALLY, e added, PEOPLE CANT EXPECT TO HAVE ME RUNNING AROUND AFTER THEM ALL THE TIME.

Mort stareda Klatchian family of father, mother and half a dozen children of dwindling size. Eight pairs of round eyes were fixed on Mort. A ninth pair belonging to an aged grandparent of indeterminate sex weren't, because their owner had taken advantage of the interruption to get some elbow room at the communal rice bowl, taking the view that a boiled fish in the blankly at the velvet wall hangings a few inches from his eyes.I've walked through a wall, he thought. And that's impossible.He gingerly moved the hangings aside to see if a door was lurking somewhere, but there was nothing but crumbling plaster which had cracked away in places to reveal some dampish but emphatically solid brickwork.He prodded it experimentally. It was quite clear that he wasn't going back out that way.'Well,' he said to the wall. 'What now?'A voice behind him said, 'Um. Excuse please?'He turned around slowly.Grouped around a table in the middle of the room was

Tuesday, March 10, 2009

Edgar Degas Dancers in Blue

Edgar Degas Dancers in BlueVincent van Gogh Olive groveThomas Kinkade Victorian Christmas
Gods, you don't know how glad I am to hear you say that," said another voice. The silence was suddenly full of babble.
"Are we still where we were?"
"I don't know. Where were we?"
"Here, I think."
"Can you reach out?"
"Not unless I am quite certain about what I'm going to touch, my good man," said the unmistakable voice of Granny Weatherwax.
"Everyone try and reach out," said Cutangle, and choked down a scream as a hand like a warm leather glove closed around his ankle. There was a satisfied little "ook", which managed to convey relief, comfort and the sheer joy of touching a fellow human being or, in this case, anthropoid.
There was a scratch and then a blessed flare of red light as a wizard on the far side of the room lit a cigarette.
"Who did that?"
"Sorry, "Yes."
"Ook."Archchancellor, force of habit." "Smoke all you like, that man." "Thank you, Archchancellor." "I think I can see the outline of the door now," said another voice. "Granny?" "Yes, I can definitely see -" "Esk?" "I'm here, Granny." "Can I smoke too, sir?" "Is the boy with you?"
"I'm here."
"What's happening?"

Monday, March 9, 2009

Frida Kahlo My Dress Hangs There

Frida Kahlo My Dress Hangs ThereFrida Kahlo Diego and IDouglas Hofmann Model
another attempt to reach Granny and recoiled when green fire roared along her arm and singed her hair.
She looked around wildly for the other wizards, but those who had fled from the effects of the magic were cowering slightly, but then spun back with such force it nearly took the skin off her hands. The chittering inside rose to a crescendo and there was another noise, too, like leather flapping.behind overturned furniture while the occult storm raged over their heads. Esk ran down the length of the hall and out into the dark corridor. Shadows curled around her as she hurried, sobbing, up the steps and along the buzzing corridors towards Simon's narrow room. Something would try to enter the body, Granny had said. Something that would walk and talk like Simon, but would be something else .... A cluster of students were hovering anxiously outside the door. They turned pale faces towards Esk as she darted towards them, and were sufficiently shaken to draw back nervously in the face of her determined progress. "Something's in there," said one of them. "We can't open the door!" They looked at her expectantly. Then one of them said: "You wouldn't have a pass key, by any chance?" Esk grabbed the doorhandle and turned it. It moved

jasper johns Target with Four Faces

jasper johns Target with Four FacesSalvador Dali ArgusJohannes Vermeer The Little Street
That isn't really an answer, Granny," Esk said reproachfully. "Am I or aren't I?"
"Women can't be wizards," said Granny bluntly. "It's agin nature. You might as well have a female blacksmith."
"Actually I've watched dad at work and I don't see why -"
"Look," said Granny hurriedly, "you can't have a female wizard any more than you can have a male witch, because -"
"I've heard of male witches," said Esk meekly.
"Warlocks!"
"I think so."
"I mean there's no male witches, only silly men," said Granny hotly. "If men were witches, they'd be wizards. It's all down to -"she tapped her head "- headology. How your mind works. Men's minds work different from ours, see. it's all solved, isn't it? I can't help but be a witch."
Granny pointed to the staff. Esk shrugged.
"It's just an old stick."Their magic's all numbers and angles and edges and what the stars are doing, as if that really mattered. It's all power. It's all -" Granny paused, and dredged up her favourite word to describe all she despised in wizardry, "- jommetry." "That's all right, then," said Esk, relieved. "I'll stay here and learn witchery." "Ali," said Granny gloomily, "that's all very well for you to say. I don't think it will be as easy as that." "But you said that men can be wizards and women can be witches and it can't be the other way around." "That's right." "Well, then," said Esk triumphantly, "
Granny shook her head. Esk blinked.
"No?"
"No."
"And I can't be a witch?"

Thursday, March 5, 2009

Paul Gauguin Hail Mary

Paul Gauguin Hail MaryHenri Matisse Woman with a HatHenri Matisse The Window
YOU WOULDN'T BELIEVE IT. AND WITH YOUR KARMA AN ANT IS TOO MUCH TO EXPECT.
The baby hadagainst his invisible legs was undoubtedly the same cat that he had seen a few minutes before, it was also quite clearly a tiny kitten and a fat, half-blind old moggy and every stage in between. All at once. Since it had started off small it looked like a white, catshaped carrot, a description that will have to do until people invent proper four-dimensional adjectives.
Death's skeletal hand tapped Billet gently on the shoulder. been taken back to its mother and the smith sat disconsolately watching the rain. Drum Billet scratched the cat behind its ears and thought It had been a long one, that was one of the advantages of being a wizard, and he'd done a lot of things he hadn't always felt good about. It was about time that .... I HAVEN'T GOT ALL DAY, YOU KNOW, said Death, reproachfully. The wizard looked down at the cat and realized for the first time how odd it looked now. The living often don't appreciate how complicated the world looks when you are dead, because while death frees the mind from the straitjacket of three dimensions it also cuts it away from Time, which is only another dimension. So while the cat that rubbed up

Wednesday, March 4, 2009

Rodney White Share a Random Moment

Rodney White Share a Random MomentUnknown Artist Woodland WalkUnknown Artist footballUnknown Artist Tango Rouge by Hamish Blakely
Cohen was staring at it. He handed the melon to the dwarf without looking at him and walked out into the sunlight. Lackjaw watched him creep stealthily around the box, or as stealthily as is possible with joints that creaked like a ship under full sail, and prod it once or twice with his sword, but very gingerly, as if he half-expected it to explode.
'It's just a box,' the dwarf called out. 'What's so special about a box?'
Cohen said nothing. He squatted down painfully and peered closely at the lock on the lid.
'What's in it?' said Lackjaw.
'You wouldn't want to know,' said Cohen. 'Help me up, will you?'
'Yes, but this box —'
'This box,' said Cohen, 'this box is—'he waved his arms vaguely.
'
'No,' said Cohen. 'It – it oughtn't to have done that.'
'I see,' said Lackjaw, who didn't, and was beginning to wish Cohen hadn't gone out into all this hot sunlight. 'It ought to have run away, you think?''Oblong?''Eldritch,' said Cohen mysteriously.'Eldritch?''Yup.''Oh,' said the dwarf. They stood looking at the box for a moment.'Cohen?''Yes?''What does eldritch mean?''Well, eldritch is—' Cohen paused and looked down irritably. 'Give it a kick and you'll see.'Lockjaw's steel-capped dwarfboot whammed into the side of the box. Cohen flinched. Nothing else happened.'I see,' said the dwarf. 'Eldritch means wooden?

Tuesday, March 3, 2009

Jean Beraud Le Bal Mabile

Jean Beraud Le Bal MabileJean Beraud Jeune femme traversant le boulevardJean Beraud A Game of BilliardsHenri Rousseau The Football Players
She looked up at Rincewind and scowled.
Then he sensed something. Perhaps it was a barely heard footstep behind him, perhaps it was movement reflected n her eyes – but he ducked.
Something whistled through the air where his neck had been and glanced off Twoflower's bald head. Rincewind spun round to see the archdruid readying his sickle for another swing and, in the absence of any hope of running away, lashed out desperately with a foot.
It caught the After a moment he said, from his prone position, 'Don't just shtand there, you daft bitcsh – help me up.' Much to Rincewind's amazement, and almost certainly to hers as well, she did so.
Rincewind, meanwhile, was trying to rouse Twoflower. There was a graze druid squarely on the kneecap. As the man screamed and dropped his weapon there was a nasty little fleshy sound and he fell forward. Behind him the little man with the long beard pulled his sword from the body, wiped it with a handful of snow, and said, 'My lumbago is giving me gyp. You can carry the treashure.''Treasure?' said Rincewind weakly.'All the necklashes and shtuff. All the gold collarsh. They've got lotsh of them. Thatsh prieshts for you,' said the old man wetly. 'Nothing but torc, torc, torc. Who'she the girl?''She won't let us rescue her,' said Rincewind. The girl looked at the old man defiantly through her smudged eyeshadow.'Bugger that,' he said, and with one movement picked her up, staggered a little, screamed at his arthritis and fell over.

Monday, March 2, 2009

Andy Warhol dollar sign black and yellow on red

Andy Warhol dollar sign black and yellow on redAndy Warhol Diamond Dust Shoes Lilac Blue GreenAndy Warhol Daisy Double PinkAndy Warhol Buttons
expect the stems haven't got the right kind of fluting, then.'
'They look okay, actually.'
'The cap, then, I expect the cap is the wrong colour,' said Twoflower.
'Not sure about that.'
'Well then, which, in the highly competitive world of magic, was pretty much the same thing. Behind every wizard of the eighth rank were half a dozen eventh rank wizards trying to bump him off, and senior wizards had to develop an inquiring attitude to, for example, scorpions in their bed. An ancient proverb summed it up: when a wizard is tired of looking for broken glass in his dinner, it ran, he is tired of life.
The oldest wizard, Greyhald Spold of the Ancient and Truly Original Sages of the Unbroken Circle, leaned heavily on his carven staff and spake thusly:why can't you eat them?'Rincewind coughed. It's the little doors and windows,' he said wretchedly, 'it's a dead giveaway.' Thunder rolled across Unseen University. Rain poured over its roofs and gurgled out of its gargoyles, although one or two of the more cunning ones had scuttled off to shelter among the maze of tiles.Far below, in the Great Hall, the eight most powerful wizards on the Discworld gathered at the angles of a ceremonial octogram. Actually they probably weren't the most powerful, if the truth were known, but they certainly had great powers of survival

Sunday, March 1, 2009

Vincent van Gogh Olive grove I

Vincent van Gogh Olive grove IVincent van Gogh Madhouse garden of St-RemyVincent van Gogh Landscape at Auvers in the RainVincent van Gogh The Plain at Auvers
WON'T WORK, laughed a voice like the dull tolling of a funereal bell, YOU DON'T BELIEVE IN THEM.
Rincewind looked at the terrible mounted apparition grinning at him, and his mind bolted in terror.
There was a brilliant flash.
There was Help me!"
Dragging the still-unconscious tourist with him he backed away from the mob until his free hand found an oddly-shaped door handle. He twisted it and ducked through, then slammed it hard. He stared around the new room in which he found himself and met the terrified gaze of a young utter darkness.There was a soft floor under Rincewind's feet, a pink light around him, and the sudden shocked cries of many people.He looked around wildly. He was standing in some kind of tunnel, which was mostly filled with seats in which outlandishly-dressed people had been strapped. They were all shouting at him."Wake up," he hissed. "