It’s not like you’ll find any gods of wisdom or thinking here. Not that there are many gods of thinking. It’s counter-intuitive. Plenty of gods of making noise and hitting things, but there’s plenty of mortals who do that. To be fair, I suppose the proportion of thinking gods to hitting gods probably matches the proportions among their worshippers.
“She felt into the Unity for all the energy hidden in the air, where people live and love and the threads of life swell into one pattern.
In every room – every single room – her breaking heart was not alone.
A thousand upon a thousand snowfalls, and the city weeps in the dark, alone.”
“In the beginning was the word,” said a dry voice right behind him.
“It was the Egg,” corrected another voice. “I distinctly remember. The Great Egg of the Universe. Slightly rubbery.”
“You’re both wrong, in fact. I’m sure it was the primordial slime.”
A voice by Rincewind’s knee said: “No, that came afterwards. There was firmament first. Lots of firmament. Rather sticky, like candyfloss. Very syrupy, in fact -”
“In case anyone’s interested,” said a crackly voice on Rincewind’s left, “you’re all wrong. In the beginning was the Clearing of the Throat -” “-then the word -”
“Pardon me, the slime -”
“Distinctly rubbery, I thought -”
There was a pause. Then a voice said carefully. “Anyway, whatever it was, we remember it distinctly.”
(Picture found on Chris Brecheen‘s website – Paul Kidby artist)
“My day began with half a dozen bluebirds beating themselves to death against my window, leaving little bloody commas on the glass to mark their passing.”
(Picture by Lifllane)
“It was very bad if the council had resorted to recruiting men. By tradition men were our last line of defense, their physical strength bent toward the single and most important task of protecting our homes and children.”
“Princess,” Bernice corrected. “Nope. Not gonna do it. Once a princess has been rescued from the place of sacrifice by a sword-carrying hero willing to fight the dragon, she’s off-limits.” She turned to Antirrhinum. “Did I get that right?”
“Perfect.” He nodded approvingly.
“But-but aren’t you allowed to eat the hero who freed her?” Ubri demanded.
“So there’s your sword-carrying hero.” The Gorgorian jabbed a finger at Arbol. “Eat her!”
Bernice considered this option. “Mmmmnope. Can’t do it.”
“Why not?” Ubri’s face was crimsom.
“Because she’s the princess who was rescued from the place of sacrifice and you don’t eat a properly rescued princess.”
Trick Number 6: The Pendejo Game
When you, the outsider, come close to subverting my power through the sheer strength of your moral arguments or through organized mass protest, I will give you an audience. I will listen to you, sometimes for the first time, and will seem engaged. At critical points in your analysis I will claim I do not know what you are talking about and will ask you to elaborate ad nauseam. I will consistently subvert your efforts at dialogue by “claiming we do not speak the same language.” I will assert that many of our differences, if not all, are due to our different ways of communicating. I will ask you to educate me and spend your energies in finding ways of saying things so that I can understand. I will not do the same for you. Instead of using your resources to advance your causes, I will see you like a rat in a cage running around trying to find ways to explain the cage to me, while I hold the key to open the door. At the same time, I will convince you that I have no ill intentions toward you or those like you. I am simply not informed. The claim of ignorance is one of my most powerful weapons because, while you spend your time trying to enlighten me, everything remains the same. The “Pendejo Game” will also allow me to gain intimate knowledge of your psyche, which will perfect my understanding of how to dominate you.