George Bellows The CircusGeorge Bellows Summer FantasyGeorge Bellows Romance of Autumn
Weaver the thatcher squinted at his copy of the script.
“Who’s this bugger Exeunt OmnesT’ he said.
“I don’t think much of my part,” said Carpenter, “it’s too small.”
“It’s his poor wife I feel sorry for,” said Weaver, auto-matically.
“Why?” said Jason.+t
“And why’s there got to be a lion in it?” said Baker the weaver.
“’Cos it’s a play!” said Jason. “No one’d want to see it if it had a ... a donkey in it! Oi can just see people comin’ to see a play ‘cos it had a donkey in it. This play was written by a real playsmith! Hah, I can just see a real playsmith puttingFairies,” moaned Bestiality Carter.
“You’ll grow into it,” said Weaver.
“I hope not.”
“And you’ve got to rehearse,” said Jason. donkeys in a play! He says he’ll be very interested to hear how we get on! Now just you all shut up!”l Who was also general poacher, cess-pit cleaner, and approximate carpenter.!: f’With a couple of nails it’ll stay up all right.”“The thing about iron is that you generally don’t have to think fast iindealing with it.84I.ORQ6 ft/VO LftQf£6“I don’t feel like the Queen of the
“There’s no room,” said Thatcher the carter.
“Well, I ain’t doin’ it where anyone else can see,” said Bestiality. “
Monday, 20 April 2009
Thursday, 16 April 2009
Cao Yong Catalina
Cao Yong CatalinaUnknown Artist Lazlo Emmerich KenyaDiego Rivera Night of the Rich
But only through me. And, perhaps, not for long. It will all happen again. It's happened before. It happens all the time. That's why gods die. They never believe in people. But you have a chance. All you need to do is . . . believe."
XIII. What? Listen To Stupid Prayers? Watch Over Small Children? Make It Rain?
"Sometimes. Not always. It could be a bargain."
XIV. BARGAIN! I don't Bargain! Not With Humans!
"Bargain now," said Brutha. "While you have the chance. Or one day you'll have to bargain with Simony, or someone like him. Or XIX. Hah! You Want A Constitutional Religion?
"Why not? The other sort didn't work."
Om leaned on the Temple, his temper subsiding.
Chap. II v. l. Very Well, Then. But Only For A Time. A grin spread across the enormous, smoking face. For One Hundred Years, Yes?Urn, or someone like him. "XV. I Could Destroy You Utterly."Yes. I am entirely in your power."XVI. I Could Crush You Like An Egg!"Yes."Om paused.Then he said: XVII. You Can't Use Weakness As A Weapon."It's the only one I've got."XVIII. Why Should I Yield, Then?"Not yield. Bargain. Deal with me in weakness. Or one day you'll have to bargain with someone in a position of strength. The world changes."
But only through me. And, perhaps, not for long. It will all happen again. It's happened before. It happens all the time. That's why gods die. They never believe in people. But you have a chance. All you need to do is . . . believe."
XIII. What? Listen To Stupid Prayers? Watch Over Small Children? Make It Rain?
"Sometimes. Not always. It could be a bargain."
XIV. BARGAIN! I don't Bargain! Not With Humans!
"Bargain now," said Brutha. "While you have the chance. Or one day you'll have to bargain with Simony, or someone like him. Or XIX. Hah! You Want A Constitutional Religion?
"Why not? The other sort didn't work."
Om leaned on the Temple, his temper subsiding.
Chap. II v. l. Very Well, Then. But Only For A Time. A grin spread across the enormous, smoking face. For One Hundred Years, Yes?Urn, or someone like him. "XV. I Could Destroy You Utterly."Yes. I am entirely in your power."XVI. I Could Crush You Like An Egg!"Yes."Om paused.Then he said: XVII. You Can't Use Weakness As A Weapon."It's the only one I've got."XVIII. Why Should I Yield, Then?"Not yield. Bargain. Deal with me in weakness. Or one day you'll have to bargain with someone in a position of strength. The world changes."
Wednesday, 15 April 2009
Amedeo Modigliani Seated Nude
Amedeo Modigliani Seated NudeAmedeo Modigliani Red NudeAmedeo Modigliani Portrait of Jeanne Hebuterne
Still a few wasps in it, though," said Urn. "You said you've only got a tenth of the army."
"But they're free men," said Simony. "Free in their heads. They'll be fighting for more than fifty cents a day."
Urn looked down at his hands. He often did that when he was uncertain about anything, as if they were the only things he was sure"Good," said Simony. "Listen, Urn. The Church is run by people like Vorbis. That's how it all works. Millions of people have died for-for nothing but lies. We can stop all that-”
Didactylos had stopped talking.
"He's muffed it," said Simony. "He could have done anything with them. And he just told them a lot of facts. You can't inspire people with facts. They need a cause. They need a symbol." of in all the world."They'll get the odds down to three to one before the rest know what's happening," said Simony grimly. "Did you talk to the blacksmith?""Yes.""Can you do it?""I . . . think so. It wasn't what I . . .""They tortured his father. Just for having a horseshoe hanging up in his forge, when everyone knows that smiths have to have their little rituals. And they took his son off into the army. But he's got a lot of helpers. They'll work through the night. All you have to do is tell them what you want.""I've made some sketches . . ."
Still a few wasps in it, though," said Urn. "You said you've only got a tenth of the army."
"But they're free men," said Simony. "Free in their heads. They'll be fighting for more than fifty cents a day."
Urn looked down at his hands. He often did that when he was uncertain about anything, as if they were the only things he was sure"Good," said Simony. "Listen, Urn. The Church is run by people like Vorbis. That's how it all works. Millions of people have died for-for nothing but lies. We can stop all that-”
Didactylos had stopped talking.
"He's muffed it," said Simony. "He could have done anything with them. And he just told them a lot of facts. You can't inspire people with facts. They need a cause. They need a symbol." of in all the world."They'll get the odds down to three to one before the rest know what's happening," said Simony grimly. "Did you talk to the blacksmith?""Yes.""Can you do it?""I . . . think so. It wasn't what I . . .""They tortured his father. Just for having a horseshoe hanging up in his forge, when everyone knows that smiths have to have their little rituals. And they took his son off into the army. But he's got a lot of helpers. They'll work through the night. All you have to do is tell them what you want.""I've made some sketches . . ."
Tuesday, 14 April 2009
Johannes Vermeer The Procuress
Johannes Vermeer The ProcuressJohannes Vermeer Diana and her CompanionsJohannes Vermeer Christ in the House of Mary and Martha
Brutha looked into the black-on-black eyes. Vorbis looked into a round pink face. There was a special face that people wore when they spoke to an exquisitor. It was flat and expressionless and glistened slightly, and even a half-trained exquisitor could read the barely concealed guilt like a book. Brutha just looked out of breath but then, he always did. It was fascinating.
"No, lord," he said.
"Why not?"in Brutha's mind.
Brutha had never been any good at lying. The truth itself had always seemed so incomprehensible that complicating things even further had always been beyond him.
"So the Septateuch teaches us," he said.
"Where there is punishment, there is always a crime," said Vorbis. "Sometimes "The Quisition protects us, lord. It is written in Ossory, chapter VII, verse-”Vorbis put his head on one side."Of course it is. But have you ever thought that the Quisition could be wrong?""No, lord," said Brutha."But why not?""I do not know why, Lord Vorbis. I just never have."Vorbis sat down at a little writing table, no more than a board that folded down from the hull."And you are right, Brutha," he said. "Because the Quisition cannot be wrong. Things can only be as the God wishes them. It is impossible to think that the world could run in any other way, is this not so?"A vision of a one-eyed tortoise flickered momentarily
Brutha looked into the black-on-black eyes. Vorbis looked into a round pink face. There was a special face that people wore when they spoke to an exquisitor. It was flat and expressionless and glistened slightly, and even a half-trained exquisitor could read the barely concealed guilt like a book. Brutha just looked out of breath but then, he always did. It was fascinating.
"No, lord," he said.
"Why not?"in Brutha's mind.
Brutha had never been any good at lying. The truth itself had always seemed so incomprehensible that complicating things even further had always been beyond him.
"So the Septateuch teaches us," he said.
"Where there is punishment, there is always a crime," said Vorbis. "Sometimes "The Quisition protects us, lord. It is written in Ossory, chapter VII, verse-”Vorbis put his head on one side."Of course it is. But have you ever thought that the Quisition could be wrong?""No, lord," said Brutha."But why not?""I do not know why, Lord Vorbis. I just never have."Vorbis sat down at a little writing table, no more than a board that folded down from the hull."And you are right, Brutha," he said. "Because the Quisition cannot be wrong. Things can only be as the God wishes them. It is impossible to think that the world could run in any other way, is this not so?"A vision of a one-eyed tortoise flickered momentarily
Monday, 13 April 2009
John Constable Flatford Mill
John Constable Flatford MillJohn William Waterhouse The Magic CircleJohn William Waterhouse Pandora
he said, nodding. "How wonderful of the Great God to put such instructive examples in our path."
"The trick is to judge the strength of the wave," said Fri'it. "And ride it."
"What happens to those who don't?"
"They drown. Often. Some of the waves are very big."
"Such is oftenin class. But the tutor priests weren't too strict with him. After all, he had arrived word-perfect in every Book of the Septateuch and knew all the prayers and hymns off by heart, thanks to grandmother. They probably assumed he was being useful. Usefully doing something no one else wanted to do.
He hoed the bean rows for the look of the thing. The Great God Om, although currently the nature of waves, I understand."The eagle was still circling. If it had understood anything, then it wasn't showing it."Useful facts to bear in mind," said Drunah, with sudden brightness. "If ever one should find oneself in heathen parts.""Indeed." From prayer towers up and down the contours of the Citadel the deacons chanted the duties of the hour.Brutha should have been
he said, nodding. "How wonderful of the Great God to put such instructive examples in our path."
"The trick is to judge the strength of the wave," said Fri'it. "And ride it."
"What happens to those who don't?"
"They drown. Often. Some of the waves are very big."
"Such is oftenin class. But the tutor priests weren't too strict with him. After all, he had arrived word-perfect in every Book of the Septateuch and knew all the prayers and hymns off by heart, thanks to grandmother. They probably assumed he was being useful. Usefully doing something no one else wanted to do.
He hoed the bean rows for the look of the thing. The Great God Om, although currently the nature of waves, I understand."The eagle was still circling. If it had understood anything, then it wasn't showing it."Useful facts to bear in mind," said Drunah, with sudden brightness. "If ever one should find oneself in heathen parts.""Indeed." From prayer towers up and down the contours of the Citadel the deacons chanted the duties of the hour.Brutha should have been
Amedeo Modigliani the Reclining Nude
Amedeo Modigliani the Reclining NudeAlphonse Maria Mucha SummerAlphonse Maria Mucha Spring
Patrician watched them carefully. For some reason he felt very uneasy in the presence of glass but that, as he stared fixedly open door, while giving himself a philosophic scratch. Then he turned and shut out the night.
It was warm in the Library. It was always warm in the Library, because the scatter of magic that produced the glow also gently cooked the air.
The Librarian looked at his charges approvingly, made his last rounds of the slumbering shelves, and then dragged his blanket underneath his desk, ate a goodnight banana, and fell asleepat the insects, wasn't what bothered him most.What bothered him was that he was fighting a terrible urge to catch them with his tongue.And Wuffles lay on his back at his master's feet, and barked in his dreams. Lights were going on all over the city, but the last few strands of sunset illuminated the gargoyles as they helped one another up the long climb to the roof.The Librarian watched them from the
Patrician watched them carefully. For some reason he felt very uneasy in the presence of glass but that, as he stared fixedly open door, while giving himself a philosophic scratch. Then he turned and shut out the night.
It was warm in the Library. It was always warm in the Library, because the scatter of magic that produced the glow also gently cooked the air.
The Librarian looked at his charges approvingly, made his last rounds of the slumbering shelves, and then dragged his blanket underneath his desk, ate a goodnight banana, and fell asleepat the insects, wasn't what bothered him most.What bothered him was that he was fighting a terrible urge to catch them with his tongue.And Wuffles lay on his back at his master's feet, and barked in his dreams. Lights were going on all over the city, but the last few strands of sunset illuminated the gargoyles as they helped one another up the long climb to the roof.The Librarian watched them from the
Friday, 10 April 2009
Cassius Marcellus Coolidge Waterloo
Cassius Marcellus Coolidge WaterlooPino Morning BreezePino First Glance
sidled along the wall and put his ear to the next stone, which was a smaller, wedge-shaped stone cut to fit an angle of the wall, not a big, distinguished stone, but a bantam stone, patiently doing its bit for the greater good of the wall as A little cascade of mortar poured down from the ceiling on to Rincewind's hat.
'Something's acting on the stones,' he said quietly. 'They're trying to break free.'
'We're right underneath quite a lot of them,' observed Creosote.
There was a grinding noise above them and a shaft of daylight lanced down. To Rincewind's a whole. It was also shaking.'Shh!' said Conina.'I can't hear anything,' said Nijel loudly. Nijel was one of those people who, if you say "don't look now", would immediately swivel his head like an owl on a turntable. These are the same people who, when you point out, say, an unusual crocus just beside them, turn round aimlessly and put their foot down with a sad little squashy noise. If they were lost in a trackless desert you could find them by putting down, somewhere on the sand, something small and fragile like a valuable old mug that had been in your family for generations, and then hurrying back as soon as you heard the crash.Anyway.'That's the point! What happened to the war?'
sidled along the wall and put his ear to the next stone, which was a smaller, wedge-shaped stone cut to fit an angle of the wall, not a big, distinguished stone, but a bantam stone, patiently doing its bit for the greater good of the wall as A little cascade of mortar poured down from the ceiling on to Rincewind's hat.
'Something's acting on the stones,' he said quietly. 'They're trying to break free.'
'We're right underneath quite a lot of them,' observed Creosote.
There was a grinding noise above them and a shaft of daylight lanced down. To Rincewind's a whole. It was also shaking.'Shh!' said Conina.'I can't hear anything,' said Nijel loudly. Nijel was one of those people who, if you say "don't look now", would immediately swivel his head like an owl on a turntable. These are the same people who, when you point out, say, an unusual crocus just beside them, turn round aimlessly and put their foot down with a sad little squashy noise. If they were lost in a trackless desert you could find them by putting down, somewhere on the sand, something small and fragile like a valuable old mug that had been in your family for generations, and then hurrying back as soon as you heard the crash.Anyway.'That's the point! What happened to the war?'
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