Vincent van Gogh The Yellow HouseLeonardo da Vinci Virgin of the RocksLeonardo da Vinci St John the Baptist
narrow little valley a few miles away a party of elves had found a nest of young rabbits which, in conjunction with a nearby antheap, kept them amused for a while.
Even the meek and blind and voiceless have gods.
Heme the of leaves, aware even as his vision fogged that elves were overtaking him on either side, pacing him, waiting for him to ...
The leaves exploded. The little god was briefly aware of a fanged shape, all arms and vengeance. Then there were a couple of disheveled humans, one of them waving an iron bar around its head.
Heme didn’t wait to see what happened next. He dived through the apparition’s Hunted, god of the chased, crept through the bushes and wished fervently that gods had gods.The elves had their backs to him as they hunkered down to watch closely.Heme the Hunted crawled under a clump of bramble, tensed, and sprang.He sank his teeth in an elfs calf until they met, and was flung away as it screamed and turned.He dropped and ran.That was the problem. He wasn’t built to fight, there was not an ounce of predator in him. Attack and run, that was the only option.256LOR06 ft/VO LftD/£6And elves could run faster.He bounced over logs and skidded through drifts
Friday, April 24, 2009
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Thomas Kinkade CHRISTMAS AT THE AHWAHNEE
Thomas Kinkade CHRISTMAS AT THE AHWAHNEECamille Pissarro Still Life with Apples and PitcherWinslow Homer The Houses of ParliamentWinslow Homer Children on the Beach
your pardon?”
“A tater tate? Do you do it with your clothes on or what?”
“It means an intimate meeting, my good woman.”
“Is that all? Oh. Ta.”
Nanny Ogg elbowed her way back to the vibrating dwarf.
“You’re on,” she said.
“I thought we could have a little private dinner, just you and me,” said Casanunda. “In one of the taverns?”
Never, in a long have really thought that Granny Weatherwax was chaperon-ing her.
Compliments and flattery had also been very minor com-ponents in the machinery of Nanny Ogg’s courtships.
“Yes, all right,” she said.
“And now I shall circulate, so that people don’t talk and ruin your reputation,” said Casanunda, bowing and kissing history of romance, had Nanny Ogg ever been taken out for an intimate dinner. Her courtships had been more noted for their quantity than their quality.178LORQ6 ft(VO LftQf£6“OK,” was all she could think of to say.“Dodge your chaperone and meet me at six o’clock?”Nanny Ogg glanced at Granny Weatherwax, who was watching them disapprovingly from a distance.“She’s not my—“ she began.Then it dawned on her that Casanunda couldn’t possibly
your pardon?”
“A tater tate? Do you do it with your clothes on or what?”
“It means an intimate meeting, my good woman.”
“Is that all? Oh. Ta.”
Nanny Ogg elbowed her way back to the vibrating dwarf.
“You’re on,” she said.
“I thought we could have a little private dinner, just you and me,” said Casanunda. “In one of the taverns?”
Never, in a long have really thought that Granny Weatherwax was chaperon-ing her.
Compliments and flattery had also been very minor com-ponents in the machinery of Nanny Ogg’s courtships.
“Yes, all right,” she said.
“And now I shall circulate, so that people don’t talk and ruin your reputation,” said Casanunda, bowing and kissing history of romance, had Nanny Ogg ever been taken out for an intimate dinner. Her courtships had been more noted for their quantity than their quality.178LORQ6 ft(VO LftQf£6“OK,” was all she could think of to say.“Dodge your chaperone and meet me at six o’clock?”Nanny Ogg glanced at Granny Weatherwax, who was watching them disapprovingly from a distance.“She’s not my—“ she began.Then it dawned on her that Casanunda couldn’t possibly
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Cao Yong WINDS OF LOVE
Cao Yong WINDS OF LOVECao Yong Walk In GardenCao Yong VILLA ENCANTADA
Everyone may be right, all at the same time. That’s the thing about quantum.
It was early morning. Shawn Ogg was on guard on the bat-tlements of Lancre castle, all that stood between the inmates and any time, since
guard duty in Lancre involved such an awful lot of it. There
Terry Pratchett
was Getting The Nostrils Really Clean, that was a good one. Or Farting Tunes. Or Standing On One Leg. Holding His Breath and Counting was something he fell back on when he couldn’t think of anything else and his meals hadn’t been too rich in carbohydrates.
There were a couple of loud creaks from the door knocker, far below. There was so much mighty barbarian hordes that might be in the area.He enjoyed the military life. Sometimes he wished a small horde would attack, just so’s he could Save the Day. He daydreamed of leading an army into battle, and wished the king would get one.A brief scream indicated that Hodgesaargh was giving his charges their morning finger.Shawn ignored the noise. It was part of the background hum of the castle. He was passing the time by seeing how long he could hold his breath.He had any amount of ways of passing the
Everyone may be right, all at the same time. That’s the thing about quantum.
It was early morning. Shawn Ogg was on guard on the bat-tlements of Lancre castle, all that stood between the inmates and any time, since
guard duty in Lancre involved such an awful lot of it. There
Terry Pratchett
was Getting The Nostrils Really Clean, that was a good one. Or Farting Tunes. Or Standing On One Leg. Holding His Breath and Counting was something he fell back on when he couldn’t think of anything else and his meals hadn’t been too rich in carbohydrates.
There were a couple of loud creaks from the door knocker, far below. There was so much mighty barbarian hordes that might be in the area.He enjoyed the military life. Sometimes he wished a small horde would attack, just so’s he could Save the Day. He daydreamed of leading an army into battle, and wished the king would get one.A brief scream indicated that Hodgesaargh was giving his charges their morning finger.Shawn ignored the noise. It was part of the background hum of the castle. He was passing the time by seeing how long he could hold his breath.He had any amount of ways of passing the
Monday, April 20, 2009
Pino THE DANCER
Pino THE DANCERPino SWEET DREAMSPino SENSUALITY
there is such a creature as a swarm, whose component cells are just a bit more mobile than those of, say, the common whelk. Swarms see every-thing and sense a lot more, and they can remember things for years, although their memory tends tothem for someone to talk to.
For the first time since she’d returned home, she went to the hives.
And stared.
Bees were boiling out of the entrances. The thrum of wings filled the normally calm little patch behind the rasp-berry bushes. Brown bodies zipped through the air like hori-zontal hail.
She wished she knew why. be external and built out of wax. A honeycomb is a hive’s memory—the placement of egg cells, pollen cells, queen cells, honey cells, different types of honey, are all part of the memory array.And then there are the big fat drones. People think all they do is hang around the hive all year, waiting for those few brief minutes when the queen even notices their exis-tence, but that doesn’t explain why they’ve got more sense organs than the roof of the CIA building.Granny didn’t really keep bees. She took some old waxevery year, for candles, and the occasional pound of honey46LQR06 ftfVO iftQ/£6that the hives felt they could spare, but mainly she had
there is such a creature as a swarm, whose component cells are just a bit more mobile than those of, say, the common whelk. Swarms see every-thing and sense a lot more, and they can remember things for years, although their memory tends tothem for someone to talk to.
For the first time since she’d returned home, she went to the hives.
And stared.
Bees were boiling out of the entrances. The thrum of wings filled the normally calm little patch behind the rasp-berry bushes. Brown bodies zipped through the air like hori-zontal hail.
She wished she knew why. be external and built out of wax. A honeycomb is a hive’s memory—the placement of egg cells, pollen cells, queen cells, honey cells, different types of honey, are all part of the memory array.And then there are the big fat drones. People think all they do is hang around the hive all year, waiting for those few brief minutes when the queen even notices their exis-tence, but that doesn’t explain why they’ve got more sense organs than the roof of the CIA building.Granny didn’t really keep bees. She took some old waxevery year, for candles, and the occasional pound of honey46LQR06 ftfVO iftQ/£6that the hives felt they could spare, but mainly she had
Friday, April 17, 2009
Thomas Kinkade City by the Bay
Thomas Kinkade City by the BayThomas Kinkade Blessings of ChristmasThomas Kinkade Beyond Summer Gate
sympathetic fire leapt from spear-tip and sword-point.
Simony looked up at the booming darkness.
"What the hell's happening?" He nudged the body next to him.
It was Argavisti."I'm not that happy myself," said Simony. "Gods? Huh!"
"This is no time for impiety," said Rham-ap-Efan.
There was a shower of grapes outside.
"Can't think of a better one," said Simony. They stared at one another.More thunder smashed across the sky. Waves climbed up one another to rip into the fleet. Hull drifted with awful grace into hull, giving the bass line of the thunder a counterpoint of groaning wood.A broken spar thudded into the sand by Simony's head."We're dead if we stay here," he said. "Come on."They staggered through the spray and sand, amidst groups of cowering and praying soldiers, fetching up against something hard, half-covered.They crawled into the calm under the Turtle.Other people had already had the same idea. Shadowy figures sat or sprawled in the darkness. Urn sat dejectedly on his toolbox. There was a hint of gutted fish."The gods are angry," said Borvorius."Bloody furious," said Argavisti.
sympathetic fire leapt from spear-tip and sword-point.
Simony looked up at the booming darkness.
"What the hell's happening?" He nudged the body next to him.
It was Argavisti."I'm not that happy myself," said Simony. "Gods? Huh!"
"This is no time for impiety," said Rham-ap-Efan.
There was a shower of grapes outside.
"Can't think of a better one," said Simony. They stared at one another.More thunder smashed across the sky. Waves climbed up one another to rip into the fleet. Hull drifted with awful grace into hull, giving the bass line of the thunder a counterpoint of groaning wood.A broken spar thudded into the sand by Simony's head."We're dead if we stay here," he said. "Come on."They staggered through the spray and sand, amidst groups of cowering and praying soldiers, fetching up against something hard, half-covered.They crawled into the calm under the Turtle.Other people had already had the same idea. Shadowy figures sat or sprawled in the darkness. Urn sat dejectedly on his toolbox. There was a hint of gutted fish."The gods are angry," said Borvorius."Bloody furious," said Argavisti.
Thursday, April 16, 2009
Diego Rivera The Flower Seller
Diego Rivera The Flower SellerGustav Klimt The MusicGustav Klimt The Friends
smile, nod.
It was good tea.
"S'not 'n important gates he stopped running and started sweeping. He swept up to the gates, swept around the gates themselves, nodded and smiled at a soldier who glared at him and then realized that it was only the daft old sweeper, polished one of the handles of the gates, and swept his way by passages and cloisters to Brutha's vegetable garden.
He could see a figure crouched among the melons.
Lu-Tze found a rug and padded back out into the garden, where Brutha was sitting hunched cast anyway," said Urn, swaying. "Jus' the control levers-”Lu-Tze caught him carefully and steered him to a seat on a heap of charcoal. Then he went and watched the forge for a while. The bar of steel was glowing in the mold.He poured a bucket of cold water over it, watched the great cloud of steam spread and disperse, and then put his broom over his shoulder and ran away hurriedly.People to whom Lu-Tze was a vaguely glimpsed figure behind a very slow broom would have been surprised at his turn of speed, especially in a man six thousand years old who ate nothing but brown rice and drank only green tea with a knob of rancid butter in it.A little way away from the Citadel's main
smile, nod.
It was good tea.
"S'not 'n important gates he stopped running and started sweeping. He swept up to the gates, swept around the gates themselves, nodded and smiled at a soldier who glared at him and then realized that it was only the daft old sweeper, polished one of the handles of the gates, and swept his way by passages and cloisters to Brutha's vegetable garden.
He could see a figure crouched among the melons.
Lu-Tze found a rug and padded back out into the garden, where Brutha was sitting hunched cast anyway," said Urn, swaying. "Jus' the control levers-”Lu-Tze caught him carefully and steered him to a seat on a heap of charcoal. Then he went and watched the forge for a while. The bar of steel was glowing in the mold.He poured a bucket of cold water over it, watched the great cloud of steam spread and disperse, and then put his broom over his shoulder and ran away hurriedly.People to whom Lu-Tze was a vaguely glimpsed figure behind a very slow broom would have been surprised at his turn of speed, especially in a man six thousand years old who ate nothing but brown rice and drank only green tea with a knob of rancid butter in it.A little way away from the Citadel's main
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Henri Rousseau Exotic Landscape
Henri Rousseau Exotic LandscapeHenri Rousseau Exotic Landscape 1908Henri Rousseau Eve
that a hypotenuse? It's wiggly."
"It's not wiggly. It's drawing it straight and you're looking at it in a wiggly way!"
"I'll bet thirty obols it can't do a square!"
"Here's forty obols says it can."
There was another pause, and then a cheer.
"Yeah!"
"That's more of a tortoise doing geometry?"
"Another daft idea, Didactylos?"
"I said so all along. It's just a tortoise."
"There's good eating on one of those things . . ."
The mass of philosophers broke up, pushing past Brutha without paying him much attention. He caught a glimpse of a circle of damp sand, covered with geometrical figures. Om was sitting in the middle of them. Behind him was a very grubby pair of philosophers, counting out a pile of coins.of a parallelogram, if you ask me," said a petulant voice."Listen, I knows a square when I sees one! And that's a square.""All right. Double or nothing then. Bet it can't do a dodecagon.""Hah! You bet it couldn't do a septagon just now.""Double or nothing. Dodecagon. Worried, eh! Feeling a bit avis domestica? Cluck-cluck?""It's a shame to take your money . . ."There was another pause."Ten sides? Ten sides? Hah!""Told you it wasn't any good! Whoever heard
that a hypotenuse? It's wiggly."
"It's not wiggly. It's drawing it straight and you're looking at it in a wiggly way!"
"I'll bet thirty obols it can't do a square!"
"Here's forty obols says it can."
There was another pause, and then a cheer.
"Yeah!"
"That's more of a tortoise doing geometry?"
"Another daft idea, Didactylos?"
"I said so all along. It's just a tortoise."
"There's good eating on one of those things . . ."
The mass of philosophers broke up, pushing past Brutha without paying him much attention. He caught a glimpse of a circle of damp sand, covered with geometrical figures. Om was sitting in the middle of them. Behind him was a very grubby pair of philosophers, counting out a pile of coins.of a parallelogram, if you ask me," said a petulant voice."Listen, I knows a square when I sees one! And that's a square.""All right. Double or nothing then. Bet it can't do a dodecagon.""Hah! You bet it couldn't do a septagon just now.""Double or nothing. Dodecagon. Worried, eh! Feeling a bit avis domestica? Cluck-cluck?""It's a shame to take your money . . ."There was another pause."Ten sides? Ten sides? Hah!""Told you it wasn't any good! Whoever heard
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