Rest in peace, you beautiful mind...

[abomvubuso.livejournal.com]

Terry Pratchett, author of the Discworld series, dies aged 66

Author of more than 70 books, who had early-onset Alzheimer’s disease, dies at his home, his publishers have announced. He passed away in his home, with his cat sleeping on his bed surrounded by his family on Thursday.


And so, Terry took Death's arm and followed him through the doors and on to the black desert under the endless night.

AT LAST, SIR TERRY, WE MUST WALK TOGETHER.

The End. :(

Comments

[airiefairie.livejournal.com]

I will say it again. He was the most influential author for me. He will be enormously missed...

[luzribeiro.livejournal.com]

Very poetic.

Now they can ride together, at long last.;

[badlydrawnjeff.livejournal.com]

Alzheimer's is the worst.

[abomvubuso.livejournal.com]

Hugs, bro...

[nairiporter.livejournal.com]

I have cried several times since yesterday. I am crying right now, too.

[mahnmut.livejournal.com]

It may sound a bit odd (or not), but I can't think of a piece of news that has shaken me up so much as this one in recent times. I knew the end was imminent and was coming sooner than later, but still, I couldn't help shaking for a while. I don't know, maybe it's just that somehow he had managed to touch me in a way more profound than I had thought possible.

[htpcl.livejournal.com]

Now consider the tortoise and the eagle.

The tortoise is a ground-living creature. It is impossible to live nearer the ground without being under it. Its horizons are a few inches away. It has about as good a turn of speed as you need to hunt down a lettuce. It has survived while the rest of evolution flowed past it by being, on the whole, no threat to anyone and too much trouble to eat.

And then there is the eagle. A creature of the air and high places, whose horizons go all the way to the edge of the world. Eyesight keen enough to spot the rustle of some small and squeaky creature half a mile away. All power, all control. Lightning death on wings. Talons and claws enough to make a meal of anything smaller than it is and at least take a hurried snack out of anything bigger.

And yet the eagle will sit for hours on the crag and survey the kingdoms of the world until it spots a distant movement and then it will focus, focus, focus on the small shell wobbling among the bushes down there on the desert. And it will leap . . .

And a minute later the tortoise finds the world dropping away from it. And it sees the world for the first time, no longer one inch from the ground but five hundred feet above it, and it thinks: what a great friend I have in the eagle.

And then the eagle lets go.

And almost always the tortoise plunges to his death. Everyone knows why the tortoise does this. Gravity is a habit that is hard to shake off. No one knows why the eagle does this. There’s good eating on a tortoise but, considering the effort involved, there’s much better eating on practically anything else. It’s simply the delight of eagles to torment tortoises.

But of course, what the eagle does not realize is that it is participating in a very crude form of natural selection.

One day a tortoise will learn how to fly.


Genius.

And also, what would happen if the Hogfather died? Would the Sun rise again? No, it's just that a boring ball of fire would come in its place.

...Full of meaning both along and between the lines.

[garote]

My absolute favorite part of that book is when the small god says "Let there be another lettuce!" and his one follower actually sets one down in front of him, thinking to himself, in the form of a biblical declaration, and lo, there was another lettuce.

Hilarious and brilliant, on many levels...