User:Old Dickens: Difference between revisions

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==Bridge==
==Bridge==
'''H'''ere in The Great White North we begin to worry about European-style immigration problems as refugees pour across The World's Longest Undefended Border into Manitoba and Quebec from the south. We're managing so far, despite some local exigencies.
'''T'''hey're singing in Charlottesville: ''The Battle Hymn Of The Republic, This Little Light Of Mine''. They're carrying candles, not club-like torches nor AR-15s, but the street is too full to admit the fascist thugs.
Fascists don't sing any more. Nobody remembers the Horst Wessel Song.





Revision as of 01:47, 17 August 2017

Verse

What if the stories were true? What if there really were Vampires and Werewolves and Wizards and Witches who really could turn you into a toad, or make you think they had? Suppose Nick and Nora Charles were the most powerful couple in the country...

There is a story that the world is a disc borne on the backs of four elephants which stand on the carapace of an enormous turtle. In one corner of the Multiverse (the one farthest from Reality) this, too, is true. This is where the story creates the history and a one-in-a-million chance turns up nine times out of ten and the ocean falls into space around the rim without depleting itself. On the Discworld, "what if?" must be answered, the stories lived, the myth made real.

Tales from this remote universe arrived regularly via inspiration particles intercepting the particularly receptive and talented brain of Sir Terry Pratchett, OBE. Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to sort, file and illuminate the elements of these chronicles in this little corner of the vast library of L-space. Just don't forget your ball of string.


Bridge

They're singing in Charlottesville: The Battle Hymn Of The Republic, This Little Light Of Mine. They're carrying candles, not club-like torches nor AR-15s, but the street is too full to admit the fascist thugs. Fascists don't sing any more. Nobody remembers the Horst Wessel Song.


Chorus

I sometimes sit and laugh giddily at the mere existence of some Pratchett characters (Carrot Ironfoundersson, say) and the reality he created out of the absurd stereotype. This is often toward the end of the bottle of wine, but still, it suggests how he's different from other writers I have followed. There are now more than a thousand Discworld characters described here, and that's not all.




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Made a sysop for the many good contributions --Sanity 01:34, 19 August 2006 (CEST)