The Turnwise Almanack

October 2011

2011-10-31T01:28:00.000+11:00

THE NEW DISCWORLD HOROSCOPE
by Fernando Magnifico

Buongiorno my friends, it is I, Fernando Magnifico, and I shall be your astrologer this month for the Lady Asterisk is unavailable due to an unfortunate conjunction of a minor planet and her figgins.

My friends, Fernando has the molto distressing news to tell you. Fernando's rivals in the Guild of Prognosticators, Soothsayers, Fortunetellers, Oneiromancers, Haruspices and Cunning-Men (divers wizards, witches, priests, priestess and Mrs Cake exempted) are yet again trying to have Fernando thrown out of the Guild. (Fernando senses the hand of the despicable Carlos behind this, but Fernando shall not speak of him again.) My friends, they are the incompetent horoscopers who do not even know the difference between a vigintile and a semi-decile! But do not be afeared my friends, for they could not find a map to their bottom if it were tattooed on their face, and Fernando has the no doubt that his position in the Guild is safe.

Fernando begs you to find it in your hearts to forgive these foolish ones, especially the Guild Secretary Mr. Weakley "Astral Weaks" Render, of number 37A The Hidings, and not to throw rotten eggs at them. For while Fernando has dedicated himself to the mission of bringing to you the most excellente horoscopes and astrological advice at the most affordable prices, their only cause is to cut down the magnificence of Fernando out of jealousy. They are more to be pitied than to have the fresh dog doings squeezed through the keyholes, no matter how much they deserve it.

My friends, we all need to follow a Cause we believe in. Some people are fortunate enough to already have the Cause they can follow. Fernando hopes your Cause is virtuous and of benefit to all, like the emancipation of goblins, or to wear the most perfect cerise silk shirt. For those of you who are still in search of your Cause, do not be afeared my friends, for this month Fernando has asked the stars what Cause will most suit you.

Ciao bella!

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The Adamant Hedgehog 21 Mar - 20 Apr

Hoggers, Fernando has consulted with the stars and your Cause to follow is the introduction of the shoulder-block into the great game of footsball. My friends, Fernando is the great supporter of the footsball, like all Brindisians, and when it comes to the game he is the molto conservative, but unlike some other astrologers Fernando will always tell you what the stars say no matter the consequences. For although Fernando personally is not a fan of the idea to introduce the shoulder-block, it is very popular in the street footsball, especially amongst the Dimwell supporters. Perhaps it is an idea whose time has come? (Although probably not the Dimwell practice of using spiked shoulder pads.)

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The Half-Eaten Sandwich 21 Apr - 21 May

Fernando is the famous patron of the arts, especially the Opera where he never misses the performance of the prima diva Christine, and of the excellente art gallery in Broadway with the transgressive modern sculptures inspired by traditional Howondalander carvings. (Fernando is molto fortunate that the Blackribboner artist Baroness Evangelika Lugubria Arroganta Barbina Solfami von Fledermausen allows him to pose for the sculptures.) And so Fernando is especially pleased to tell you that the stars recommend that the Cause for Munchers to follow is to improve the funding and patronage for the arts. May there be many more fig leaves for all!

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Herne the Hunted 22 May - 21 Jun

Hernians, your Cause is to support the proposed Magic Registration Act, which would compel all witches, wizards, psychics and other magical people or creatures within the bounds of Ankh-Morpork to register with the Watch, or leave the city. Fernando will let the sponsor of the MRA, Lord Archibald Pinkler, speak: "How many times does a man have to have his socks spirited away into the aether by the wizards of Unseen University before Lord Vetinari sees fit to act on this threat to our fair city? I demand that the City Watch do something about this magical menace!" My friends, Fernando is not one to let his own personal opinions influence his horoscopes, but he must say that this is of concern to him, for there have been the many times that Fernando has been accused of the magic on account of his supernatural good looks and inhuman skills with the love-making. Fernando's magnificence is all-natural, my friends, but some people sadly will be envious.

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The Wizard's Staff and Knob 22 Jun - 22 Jul

Staffies, Fernando knows that the quality, and quantity, of the food you eat is a subject especially close to your heart, and so it is that the stars tell Fernando that the Cause you should take up is to have the Patrician pass the food purity laws. My friends, the Ankh-Morpork Chamber of Commerce has taken out the many advertisements in the A-M Times and Enquirer explaining that the Patrician's proposed limits on the amount of rat droppings in flour will bankrupt Ankh-Morpork businesses within the month, and that the Morporkians prefer their rabbit pies to be stretched with a little horse meat to keep the cost down (but only equal amounts of each: one horse, one rabbit). And what sort of sausage would you get without sawdust and gristle? My friends, you don't need to be the magnificent astrologer like Fernando to answer that question, you only need to have had primo quality Brindisian sausage in your mouth: you would get a much better sausage.

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Bilious, God of Hangovers 23 Jul - 23 Aug

Bilians, Fernando wishes you the best of good luck for your Cause, for you will need it. Your Cause is to repeal the anti-mime laws in Ankh-Morpork. My friends, Fernando has the great admiration for those who take the unpopular stand. As the great Quirmian writer Saltaire once said, "I think you are wrong in what you say, but I think you should say it". (But remember my friends, the next part of his quote is often left out: "I could do with a good laugh.") In this case, the anti-mime laws have the support of the Patrician, the editors of both major newspapers, Sir Samuel Vimes, and the general population. Fernando knows that almost the only ones against the law is the Fool's Guild, and so the stars warn that your Cause will be the unpopular one, and having the law repealed will be molto difficile. Perhaps even as difficile as walking against the wind. Or doing other things against the wind which Fernando is far too cultured to mention here.

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My Uncle's Nose 24 Aug - 23 Sept

With Ankh-Morpork in possession of the tens of thousands of golems, there are those who believe that other nations of the Disc have great reason to fear the ill-intentions of the city. Not Brindisi, of course, for Brindisi fears nothing, except perhaps being relegated to Division 2 of the Footsball Disc Cup, and also because of the long and most friendly special relationship between our two nations. But the other nations, no matter how friendly they are now, have the consideration that Lord Vetinari's successor may not be quite as interested in peaceful coexistence. Borogravia, it is said, has doubled the number of trolls recruited into their army. Klatch is training assassins (after all, they did invent the word), Agatea (so the rumours say) has built another 10,000 Barking Dogs, and Muntab is doing whatever it is that Muntab always does. My friends, Fernando is the believer in making the love, not the war, but even he can see that the existence of so many golems risks peace on the Disc. And so it is that the stars tell Fernando that the favoured Cause for Nosers is that of golem disarmament, for without their arms, the golems are much less to be feared.

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The Small Boring Group of Faint Stars 24 Sept - 23 Oct

Boring'uns, the stars have given Fernando the understanding of the nightmare you live in. You can hardly dare go out to eat at the cafe or ristorante, for who knows what they will put in the food? There could be herbs, or spices, or herbs and spices. Perhaps they use the garlic, or the black pepper, or even the hot spicy chilli favoured by Fernando's Aunt Maria. Or worst of all, the dreaded Quirmian avec! How can you eat out at the restaurant or the cafe when the most harmless, simple foods could contain such unexpected excitement? My friends, the stars say your Cause is to have the spicy foods banned, especially the traitorous Brindisian parsley, which looks gentle and mild enough for Boring'uns, like the Quirmian curly parsley, but in fact has the kick to it. The kick like a mouse perhaps, but still the kick. If you can't trust even the parsley, what herb can you trust?

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Androgyna Majestis 24 Oct - 22 Nov

When Fernando first arrived in Ankh-Morpork, he was the saddened and shocked to see how many of the fine Morporkian people would get sick with the flux, also known as the colic or the griping of the guts. Sometimes all over the street. Andies, it is now the Year of the Pensive Hare and it is the disgrace that a city of Ankh-Morpork's statue should still have this problem! But do not be afeared my friends, for the stars tell Fernando that your Cause to follow is to eradicate the flux. Listen very carefully, for Fernando knows that there are the many crackpots who will lead you wrong with the false stories of "Zoons poisoning the wells", "too many vegetables in the diet", and "invisible biting demons in the Ankh water". Trust Fernando on this, for he knows that this is so.

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The Spoons, a.k.a. the Greater and Lesser Spoons, 23 Nov - 21 Dec

Spooners, your Cause is the Right To Roam, the ancient Morporkian freedom to roam through public and private lands. My friends, many people know that Ramblers wander at will across the Sto Plains, through Lancre, and even the Forest of Skund (although Fernando must warn would-be Ramblers that sometimes the trees will follow you home). But let Fernando tell you that, although most people are not aware of this, Ankh-Morpork also grants the Right To Roam in the city. So with the heavy walking boots, a stout walking stick, and a large sledge-hammer for removing inconvenient walls built across ancient city streets and paths, it is every Morporkian's right to wander through Dolly Sisters, Nap Hill, the Scours, and number 37A The Hidings. Fernando encourages you to stand up for your ancient rights!

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Hoki the Jokester 22 Dec - 20 Jan

Fernando often has the wonderment about where the rumours and stories come from. Who first started the rumours that eating the sausage inna bun would make your t*nker grow as big as the sausage? (My friends, Fernando has seen the typical Morporkian sausage, and such a thing is not much to aspire to...) Or the stories about the talking dog of Ankh-Morpork? Fernando has the much disappointment from these unbelievable stories. But Fernando does not judge, for we all must follow the path we have before us, even if that path is to spread the nonsense rumours. Hokians, the stars tell Fernando that your Cause is to be one of the "Borners" questioning whether Lord Vetinari is eligible to be Patrician. Fernando can do no better than to quote the leader of the Borners, Only Zats: "Is it true that Lord Vetinari was born in Genua, or perhaps it was Kythia? If he is actually a Morporkian, why is he never seen out on the streets throwing half-bricks at toffs?"

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The Big Chicken 21 Jan - 18 Feb

Squawkers, Fernando has carefully consulted with the stars, and they recommend that your Cause to follow is to support the continued cleanup of magical dumping grounds in Unreal Estate. My friends, with the success of Thaumatological Park, and hardly anyone being turned into a spoon while visiting the site, many people believe that it is past time for the rest of Unreal Estate to be opened to developers. Fernando understands that Archchancellor Ridcully is against the idea, but what could possibly go wrong? Fernando hears that a consortium of business men have offered to buy the land from the University for $1 and a promise of immunity to lawsuits, and in return they will dispose of the old spells and magical waste by burying it safely in the Shades.

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Lesser Umbrage 19 Feb - 20 Mar

Umbragians, the stars tell Fernando that your Cause to follow is to do something about the many undesirables in Ankh-Morpork. Fernando knows that Ankh-Morpork is the Queen of Cities, but she has the many beggars, urchins, gnolls, street theatre performers, soapbox prophets and teachers roaming the streets at will, bothering decent people and stealing chickens. My friends, Fernando understands that you are unhappy about this, and so your Cause is to have these people evicted from the city at dusk each night. Of course, Fernando also understands that the gates to the city are permanently open and there is no way to prevent people from just wandering back in, but it is the principle of the thing that counts. Something must be done, this is something, therefore it must be done.

May 2009

2009-05-31T10:08:00.002+10:00

THE NEW DISCWORLD HOROSCOPE

by Fernando Magnifico

Buongiorno my friends, it is I, Fernando, I shall be your astrologer today, for the Lady Asterisk is sick in her boudoir with the hipplopotamus flu.

Since Fernando first came to this magnificent city, almost as magnificent as Fernando himself, he has been receiving the very many fine letters from his readers every month. My friends, you can be sure that Fernando reads the every one of them, yes, even the ones written with the crayons on the backs of old envelopes. Sometimes the letters are to tell Fernando how magnificent he is, sometimes they are to ask for Fernando's advice or help, and many of them from the young signorinas (and a few of the young signores) are to promise their undying love for Fernando. So this month, Fernando is going to answer a selection of the questions sent to him by his readers. You too can have your questions answered magnificently by Fernando! Just send your questions by C-Mail to <Magnifico@Astrochelonian.AM> or by the Roundworld E-Mail to <magnifico at pearwood.info>.

Ciao bella!

The Adamant Hedgehog 21 Mar - 20 Apr

The first letter is from a Hogger, who writes:

"To Mr Fernando Magnifico, I am a young Dwarf working in a responsible position for a high-profile arm of the City government. A few years ago I 'came out' to my colleagues and friends as female. I have met a nice Dwarf who I am very nearly sure could be male, and he's been hinting at some, er, exotic practices. I think he wants me to, um, you know, shave. Up there. My beard. Some of my more conservative relatives and colleagues, to say nothing of the Deep Downers, are still upset that I wear dresses, so I think this would possibly cause them to go completely spare. I don't think I can handle the embarrassment of being beardless in public, but at the same time the idea is strangely attractive. What should I do? Signed, Not So Cheery Now."

Fernando knows well the conflict you feel. Not for Fernando himself, you understand, for when Fernando makes up his mind to do a thing, he does it, with no regrets, but for the many people, their first "full Tezuman" is the very big decision. How much more so if the Tezuman is visible in public, and not just in the privacy of your bedroom or kitchen? This is what it must be like for the Dwarfs and their beards. Fernando has learned much from the great Dwarf lover Casanunda, who has shaved his beard off, but such a cost! For Casanunda now spends all his time away far from his family, his people and the mines. The stars say that this is not a burden that all are prepared to carry, and Fernando knows that this is so! But perhaps you could have your beard made into the face-wig, for wearing in public? Fernando hears that more Dwarfs than you know already do this thing.

The Half-Eaten Sandwich 21 Apr - 21 May

"Hello dearie, this is Dotsie here... and this is Sadie kind sir, I'm a Muncher and dear Aunty Dotsie is a Spooner, but I'm sure that won't cause such a talented boy as you any trouble. I'm sure a kind boy like you doesn't want any trouble. Aunty Dotsie and I have a question for you, if you would be so kind. A very important question, kind sir, one which Dotsie and I know you will answer very carefully. Where can we get a nice strawberry jam for our cream tea? There's a bit of a shortage of strawberries, you understand, we've looked everywhere. Something about unseasonable cold weather. Dotsie's even opened her handbag at some of the merchants, but they can't do anything about the weather, the poor things. We've tried raspberry jam but it just isn't the same."

This letter is the challenge for Fernando's astrology, for it is written by the two peoples, of different signs. But do not fear, for Fernando is "up for it", as they say, and will not let you down! Fernando has consulted with the stars, and there is the bad news and there is the good news. The bad news is that the strawberry shortage will continue for a while, but not forever, the stars say that next year will be a bumper harvest. And in the meantime, the stars suggest checking with the Sto Lat Importers in Bread & Cheese Passage, for they may still have some. Or you could try Quirm: weak, insipid strawberries, like their footsballers, but better than nothing.

Herne the Hunted 22 May - 21 Jun

"Good day Mr Magnifico, as you may be aware from the sensationalist reports in the daily newspapers, especially that scurrilous rag The Ankh-Morpork Times, His Lordship recently suffered considerable embarrassment, to say nothing of the loss of a significant amount of money, after signing an unwise contract against the advice of his accountants and lawyers. As three verbal briefings, two written memos and a large note written by Mr. Slate himself pinned directly to the front of the contract were insufficient to impress upon His Lordship the dangers of the contract, I take full responsibility for failing in my duties. Mr. Magnifico, do the stars have anything to say advising me on how I can better serve His Lordship in future? Signed, the Hon. Lucian Plumm-Brownnose, Esq., Secretary to Lord Rust."

Fernando knows that when a signore nobile has set his mind on something, he is like the bull who espies the lady cow in the next field: single minded and very hard to stop, and with a tendency to bellow. But Fernando has consulted with the stars, and checked the horoscopes, and all is not lost. For unlike the bulls, many lords are the easily distracted, like Fernando's cousin Tomas, who tries so hard but is distracted by the ladies who undress at night without drawing their shades, even if he has to climb two fences and a tree to get distracted. The stars say that the best way to serve His Lordship is to find something to keep him busy until he has forgotten the papers you don't want him to sign. Fernando believes in making the love, not the war, but for such a good cause, perhaps a small pre-emptive strike against Quirm might be in order?

The Wizard's Staff and Knob 22 Jun - 22 Jul

"Dear Mr Magnifico, Ai am a respectable hwidow hwoman and hyour most devoted fan. Ai halways turn to hyour horoscopes first thing when Ai get the newspaper heach day, it is the hnext best thing to having a witch to read hyour tea leaves. Ai am a 'Staffie', like many of the fine gentlemen for hwhom Ai works for. One hof these fine gentlemen has taken to following me around like a lost puppy since hwe were lost together on a tropical hisland some time ago. Don't get me wrong, he is the perfect gentleman at hall times, but it is very tiresome to have him follow me around hoffering to help with the hironing and folding. Ai have gels for that sort of thing. What do the stars say Ai should do? Signed, Devoted of Unseen University"

Fernando knows what it is like to have the people follow you around making the puppy-dog eyes and asking to do your chores. Sometimes when Fernando leaves his small but tastefully decorated apartment, he finds two, or sometimes three, of the young signorinas fighting over him in the street. It is very sad, because Fernando has enough love in him for everyone.

Fernando has never had a problem with an unwanted suitor who needs to be discouraged, but his sister Rosita is often plagued by the young mens who won't take no for the answer. She kicks them in the voonerables and then runs out into the street crying and wailing. After a couple of nights in the stocks being pelted by the rotten fruit, and they understand the meaning of no. Fernando has checked the stars, and they say that a delicato approach would be more appropriate. Have you considered perhaps putting the bromide in the gentleman's tea?

Bilious, God of Hangovers 23 Jul - 23 Aug

"Dear Mr Fernando, I need your help, for I have done a foolish thing. Last week I went to the pub and had a few too many beers, and then I had a few too many more beers, and maybe one or two whiskies, and one thing led to another and on the way home I stopped at the clacks office and sent a naughty c-mail to the ex-girlfriend and offered to, well, you're a man of the world Mr Fernando, I'm sure I don't need to spell it out. But I gave the clerk the wrong c-mail address and sent it to me mam instead. So now the old man doesn't know whether to give me a hiding or ask me for some lessons, and me mam won't talk to me, and somehow the lads at the factory found out and keep making jokes about it. And to rub salt into the wound, the bloody clerk (excuse my Klatchian) at the clacks office short-changed me! What do the stars say I should do? Signed, Never Should Of Let Me Mam Get On The Clacks."

Fernando can understand how this is the very embarrassment for you, but you must understand, you are not the first, and will not be the last, who this terrible thing has happened to. Especially in Ankh-Morpork, can anyone put their hand on their heart and say they have never done this themselves? I don't think so -- even Fernando, as magnificent as he is, has made this mistake once or twice. It is an easy mistake to make, especially with the Ankh-Morpork pennies, so what you must do is to be as brave as Fernando and walk straight back to that clacks office and demand to speak to the manager, then ask for your correct change. The stars are in your favour!

The Celestial Parsnip 24 Aug - 23 Sept

"Hello Mr Fenardo, I am Chalky der troll and I am der Parsnip astrologery kind of ting. Please excuse my riting, cos der kiln is on and its' a bit warm in here. I makes der potteries and stuff from der finest clays. I am reely good at makin pottery statchews for export, and I been tinken about branching out into der fine arts wit dem statchews. What does der stars say about dis?"

Fernando approves very much of the fine arts, and is very pleased that the stars say that this is the molto excellente idea. Fernando believes that having the most attractive models for the statues is most important, and so Fernando offers to be the model. Did I mention that Fernando has his own figleaf? It is very large.

The Small Boring Group of Faint Stars 24 Sept - 23 Oct

"Dear Mr Fernando, I am a Boring'un interested in collecting stamps, papier mache hats and competitive paint-drying. The regional semi-finals are coming up soon, and I am hoping that astrology could give me a small advantage against last year's champion. Yours, Dagbert Nodule."

Fernando has cast the horoscopes, and the stars say that the outlook for victory is promising. The stars recommend an unorthodox under-arm fanning motion. The secret is in the wrist action during the backstroke, cara mia.

Androgyna Majestis 24 Oct - 22 Nov

"Dear Mr Magnifico, This letter will no doubt come as a surprise to you but I can assure you by all the gods that this is GENUINE. My name is Mrs Maria-Theresa Slug and my dearest husband was the Supreme General in the Theocracy of Muntab's Hubwise Army until he was MURDERED by his political rivals. These same RIVALS have seized my home and assets but by the will of the GODS they didn't know about the bank account in the name of my CAT where my LATE husband deposited AM$10,000,000 just the night before he was SO CRUELY murdered. As a POOR SIMPLE WOMAN unused to international finance, I beseech you to help me TRANSFER the money into a secret Ankh-Morpork bank account before my husband's MURDERERS discover it. For your trouble I will give you a share of the money, twenty-five percent or ONE MILLION A-M DOLLARS for your trouble. Please reply by C-Mail to ."

Fernando's heart is filled with the sadness that people could be so cruel to a poor widow, and so he is determinded to help this poor signora in her hour of need. Fernando has cast the horoscopes, and the stars predict that much money will change hands, and that the writer of this letter will be very happy afterwards. Fernando is sure that this will work out for the best.

The Spoons, a.k.a. the Greater and Lesser Spoons, 23 Nov - 21 Dec

"Dear Mr Fernando, I am a Spooner small businessman supplying the working-man of Ankh-Morpork with his daily need viz a viz salt, grease, BCBs and other essentials. Competition is getting tough for us servers of honest Morporkian food what with these new curry shops and dwarf delicatessens opening up, and if the stars have anything to say about keeping my share of the edibles market I want to know about it. And make it snappy. Signed, S. Harga. (P.S. mention this letter for 15 pence off your next plate of Burnt Bacon Crunchy Egg and Stale Toast House Special at the House of Ribs.)"

Fernando loves Ankh-Morpork, but the food! In Brindisi, we have the saying, "it is a Morporkian lunch" (only it is much more beautiful in Brindisian, you understand), which means it is badly made and not good for you. If it were up to Fernando, I would say, Morporkians, throw out your burnt chips and greasy sludge, but Fernando is scrupulous and would never change what the stars themselves say, no matter how much it hurts Fernando. For the stars know that the peoples of Ankh-Morpork, otherwise the finest of all peoples outside of Brindisi, have little place in their stomachs for the sun-ripened tomatoes, plump olives and juicy table-grapes. The stars have this to say: on the wall of your shop, you should put the many iconographs of the big, fat sandwiches, filled with the finest salads and meats. But the sandwiches you serve should be half the size, with a few sad pieces of salad and a mean, greasy, salty minced-meat patty inside the soft, sweet bread roll, half-filled with sugar and air. Your customers will love them.

It is enough to make Fernando weep. But Fernando is strong.

Hoki the Jokester 22 Dec - 20 Jan

"Dear Fernando, I am a Hokian recentlly arrived in Ankh-Morpork from Llamedos. Father was relluctant to llet me go, but as he can't work on account of his bad lleg, and I am the olldest of a familly of seventeen girlls, I have come to the big city to find work. I am working as a barmaid for a smallll hotell just off Sator Square, and having once mentioned that I'm tallented at sewing and darning, many of the patrons have told me I shoulld consider becoming a Seamstress. What do the stars suggest I should do? Signed, Miss Edith Llewellewellewellyn. P.S. I'm not entirelly ignorant Mr Fernando, I'm aware of the difference between needllewoman and Seamstress, I just pllay dumb for the tips."

Fernando knows that such a job is the very hard: the customers are either disrespectful and unpleasant, or they are needy and demanding; the long hours, no prospects, and the terrible working conditions. And that's for needlewomans -- the job of the barmaids is much worse. The stars also say that as a Seamstress, it will be exactly the same, but you will be paid a lot more, and Fernando knows that you will have the satisfaction that the most unpleasant customers will wake up in an alley with the strange parrot-head shaped bruise on their head. Fernando is friend to many peoples, of all professions, and he knows that as Seamstress your job will be scandalous and messy, at least if you do it right. If this excites you as much as it excites Fernando, you could reach the very top of the Guild.

The Rather Large Gazunda 21 Jan - 18 Feb

"Dear Mr Fernando, I hope you will publish my letter, I was just saying to my Henry, oh Henry, wouldn't it be wonderful if that nice Mr Fernando published my letter, and then he said yes dear, and I said that would just go to show that stuck-up Mrs Petty, and he said yes dear, and then I said could you believe it, she actually said that you made up the letters you published, not my Henry you understand, you Mr Fernando, and then my Henry said no dear, and I said I know I could hardly believe it myself, but Mrs Mariachi told me, and she heard it from her Andy, who heard it direct from the gent that Mrs Petty said it to, and then my Henry said that's practically official, and I said oh shush Henry, you don't want to be boring everybody with your yabbering, and he said yes dear, he always has to have the last word my Henry I do love him so but he does go on something terrible. Signed, Mrs Analgesic."

How could Fernando not publish this letter? It would be cruel and heartless to not do so, and Fernando is not cruel or heartless. Fernando has the very big heart filled with love for all (except for Carlos, who we do not talk about, and the Quirmian footsballers, the filthy cheaters that they are). So Fernando can assure you that he does not make up any of the letters, they are all "the genuine article" as they say in Ankh-Morpork. Fernando has checked the horoscopes, and the stars say that the hat you like, the one with the cherries and stuffed birds, will be on sale soon, and if you hurry, you can buy it before Mrs Petty.

Lesser Umbrage 19 Feb - 20 Mar

"Dear Mr Fernando, due to a thmall mithunderthanding by my former employer, Very Nearly Thane Again Doctor Fauthtith Dithtemper -- when you order thomeone to pull the thwitch on the thircuit, make thure you're not thanding in wet grathth with one hand on the capathitor terminal -- I find mythelf without employment in Ankh-Morpork. I have a thmall thum put athide for emergenthieth, but I wonder whether it would be prudent to vithit my couthin Igor in Thlithe until the Doctor'th will hath been read in cathe hith heirth want it back. What do the thtarth have to thay about thith? Thigned, Igor."

Fernando knows very well the importance of the good communications, and sometimes the importance of avoiding the bad communications. Fernando has checked with the stars, and they say that Slice is too close. Perhaps you have the relatives back in Uberwald you could visit? It is important to see your family, Fernando knows this is true, which is why Fernando always goes back to Brindisi to see his family, even his cousin Donatella, who looks like the terrifying ghoul and behaves just as badly.

December 2008

2008-12-31T17:10:00.001+11:00

THE NEW DISCWORLD HOROSCOPE
by Fernando Magnifico

Hallo and buongiorno to all my friends, it is I, Fernando, and I shall be your astrologer today, for the Lady Asterisk has got her hand stuck in her Hogswatch goose.

Unless you have been hiding in the basement building the machine for modelling the ebb and flow of money through this fine city (but Fernando cannot think of anyone in their right mind who would want to do that), or perhaps you are one of the unfortunates deep in the Patrician's dungeons (but then how would you be reading this, my friend?), then you will be aware that Hogswatch is upon us. In only a few more days, the Hogfather will be bringing presents to those who have been good, and bloody bones for those who have been bad. Fernando is always very good, except once when he was very tired and had the flu, but the signorina and her friend were very understanding and forgiving.

This month, the stars say, is the time for parties -- big parties, small parties, parties for many people and small intimate tete-a-tetes for two. During this month, some of the most powerful men in the city will be having the very large balls, and this requires much careful handling to prevent embarrassment. Even Lord Vetinari, who normally is not a man who has problems with anything, has taken on extra staff to plan and prepare for the Annual Patrician's Charity Ball. Fernando hears that Lord and Lady Rust's plans for their Hogswatch Ball are in complete disarray after their son has shot another butler. Not that Fernando has been counting, but that is the fourth servant this year.

Whether you are catering for the Patrician's Ball, or, how do you say it, having a knees up down the pub, this month is a molto difficile time. There is so much to be planned, so many parties to attend, enemies to be polite to, lesser enemies to snub, friends to pull out of the gutter and carry home, and so much more. At a time like this, Fernando knows that it is more important than ever to have the guidance from the stars, and so this is your guide to the parties. Happy Hogswatch and ciao bella!

The Adamant Hedgehog 21 Mar - 20 Apr

For Hoggers who are single, or those with understanding wives and husbands, the stars smile on you this month for your party is the singles party. Fernando gets the many invitations to singles parties all year round, but for those who have never been to one before, you can expect many awkward silences, much desperate attempts to impress with the machismo, the occasional cutting remark or face slapping, and, if you are very lucky, a quick and fumbling grope in the corridor with somebody who is not too unpleasant. Fernando is very sorry about this, but if you see him at one of these parties, perhaps he can "set you up", as they say, with the attractive and confident young ladies and gentlemens, since they will all be gathered around Fernando talking to him. Such is Fernando's burden, but he loves to share.

The Half-Eaten Sandwich 21 Apr - 21 May

Those born under the sign of the Half-Eaten Sandwich are known as Munchers, but also sometimes as Sandies. So what better party for you than the beach party? The stars agree and say that this is the good time to hire a cart, make up a picnic basket, and go for a day trip down to the Holy Wood beach with your friends. Watch out for sand in your drinks, ants in your food, biting flies, salt water in your eyes, and sharkses. The best thing about a beach party is that you can't go hungry, because of all the sand-witches there! Ha ha, Fernando has made the joke!

Herne the Hunted 22 May - 21 Jun

Hernians this month will find their party is the stag party. The stars say that this is the best time for you to go out to the woods, drink a lot of scumble (although even a little scumble is a lot), put on a silly hat with enormous fake deer antlers, and run around without your drawers on getting hot and sweaty. Then afterwoods, you can drink more scumble and have a barbecue with all the meats you can eat. Alas, Fernando has the bad news for the lady Hernians -- the stag party is strictly for the mens. But do not be sad, for Fernando knows that the woods near Ankh-Morpork are full of stinging nettle and poison ivy.

The Wizard's Staff and Knob 22 Jun - 22 Jul

For wizards, every night is a night for a dinner party, although for these learned gentlemens the music, good cheer and friendship is not as important as the size of the dinner. For Staffies, the stars suggest that you let your inner wizard out: this is a good time for dinner parties. But be careful, for Fernando knows that sometimes the dinner party can go wrong. Avoid all talk about religion and politics, and beware of the Wow-Wow sauce and home-made grappa. Make sure that you have with you a designated cart driver for the afterwards, because the Watch love to catch the drunk drivers at this time of year.

Bilious, God of Hangovers 23 Jul - 23 Aug

If every night is a dinner party for wizards, every night is a cocktail party for Bilians. The stars this month they say that this is an excellent month for the cocktail parties and wine-tasting parties. The cocktails, they are not bad, but Fernando prefers to drink the wine, like his blessed mamma taught him. "Fernando," she told me when I was a small boy, "a drop of vino is good for the digestion, but don't be like that good-for-nothing Bruno who gets drunk every day!" Except she said it in Brindisian, which is a much more beautiful language.

Fernando does not think much of the Ankh-Morpork wines: too much of the Quirmian merda, and the Tsortean wines are only good for the stripping of paint. For the proper wine, full of body and flavour and colour, you need wine made with la passione from the best Brindisian grapes, not the sour Quirmian rubbish. Fernando knows that your parties will be a success if you stick to the real vino from Brindisi.

The Celestial Parsnip 24 Aug - 23 Sept

For the Snippies, the stars suggest that it is the good month for the garden party. This confused Fernando at first, because the Ankh-Morpork weather is not the best at this time of year. But I have checked and double-checked my calculations, and there is no doubt that the stars say this is the month for garden parties. How can this be?

But then Fernando remembered what the difference between a garden party and a picnic is. If you have invited people called Fred and Sally, and asked them to bring a plate, it is probably the picnic. But if you have had your servants hand-deliver the invitation written on paper with gold edges to people called Lord and Lady Panjandrum, then it is probably a garden party. For those of you who are having the garden party, you can afford to have it at your summer residence in the Tsort islands. For the rest of you, Fernando recommends that you have the thick coats and warm hats, or better still, you have your picnic indoors.

The Small Boring Group of Faint Stars 24 Sept - 23 Oct

Not for Boring'uns is the wild party lifestyle. It is difficult to be the party animal when a small sherry, a couple of cheese biscuits and bed by 9 o'clock are what you consider to be an exciting night. But the stars understand and they suggest that your party for this month is a quilting party. If the sharp needles and scissors are too worrying, Fernando suggests that you supply the snacks and leave the dangerous implements to others.

Androgyna Majestis 24 Oct - 22 Nov

For Andies, the stars are saying that this is the good time for the coming-out party. If you are the young lady of the certain age, this is the good month for you to be presented to society. The Ankh-Morpork young gentlemens don't normally have the coming-out party. Fernando is not sure why this is so -- perhaps the young mens are never ready to be presented to polite society?

For the other young mens, the ones who perhaps have the "wide stance", as they say, Fernando can say do not worry my friends, the stars are with you this month. This is a very good month for your very own coming-out party too.

The Spoons, a.k.a. the Greater and Lesser Spoons, 23 Nov - 21 Dec

This month the stars say your party is the costume party, or "fancy dress" as they say. You can let everyone dress in whatever wild costumes they choose, but the stars suggest that a themed party will be better, although nobody is sure how the wizards will react to a party full of civilians dressed the same as them. Beware though, Fernando knows that you should avoid the toga party, for he has much experience in such matters. Fernando has an uncle Giovanni, not the shoemaker, the other uncle Giovanni, on Fernando's papa's side. For this uncle Giovanni, every party is the toga party. He is always dressed like the old Latinium patron, in a toga with a laurel wreath, and then drinks very much of the vino and climbs on the table and shouts "Food fight" (only in Brindisian, you understand) and throws the food at the bride and groom. It is molto embarressment, and we would like to not invite him, but what can we do? He is family.

Hoki the Jokester 22 Dec - 20 Jan

As a Hokian, your birthday is coming up, and the stars say that this is a good time for a Birthday Party. Fernando knows that it would be, of course. It would be silly to have your birthday celebration at a different time of the year, unless you are royalty or a race horse. So Fernando wishes you a molto happy birthday, and the stars say that this year, unlike last, there will be no fights over what our Val said to grandmamma.

Unfortunately, the stars say nothing about embarrassing relatives falling drunk into the punch bowl. Fernando knows you are on your own with that.

The Rather Large Gazunda 21 Jan - 18 Feb

Fernando knows that some things are timeless and can be enjoyed by anyone no matter what their age, like Fernando's dearest mamma's melanzana parmigiana, or lying on the soft grass under the shade of a fine old tree on a hot summer's day. Other things are not so universal, and for Gazundians, your party for this month is one of the others, for your party is the pyjama party. So if you are the 15 year old girl, this is a good month to invite your best friends over and talk about boys and Fernando, and play the Truth or Dare game. And if you are the 45 year old man, Fernando understands that Wednesday night is Pyjama Party night at the Pink Pussycat Club. For the rest of you, Fernando is afraid that the stars are not on your side this month.

Lesser Umbrage 19 Feb - 20 Mar

Umbragians, your preferred party for this month is the surprise party, although Fernando is saddened that by telling you this, it will no longer be a surprise for you. But surprise parties are not just for receiving, they are also for giving, and the stars say that this month you should give surprise parties for your friends and family. Why wait until their birthday or anniversary? There is nothing more surprising than a birthday party six months before the guest of honour's birthday, except perhaps for a cake with Fernando in it.

We Three Hags, Ane Hogswatche Carol

2008-12-31T08:40:00.002+11:00

WEIRD ALICE PRESENTS...
WE THREE HAGS, ANE HOGSWATCHE CAROL

NANNY, GRANNY AND MAGRAT:
We three Hags Lancrastian are
Straddling brooms, we travel afar
Hearth and privy, pub and smithy
Casting our spells bizarre

Ohh...
Stars of Lancre, stern in black
Dames in regal pointy hats
Hubwards breezing, nethers freezing
Witches three who've got the knack

VERENCE:
Born a Fool, yet destined to reign
Never cruel though sometimes a pain
King well-meaning -- New Age-leaning
Sensible, in the main

Ohh...
Star of Lancre, staunch and meek
Castle sanitation geek
Bells a-clinking, forward-thinking
Modernise your farm techniques

MAGRAT:
Frank but senseless, soppy am I
Wrinkled gowns and head in the sky
Sweet tomfool'ry, occult jewellery
"Wet as a hen," they sigh

Ohh...
Star of Lancre, star-crossed Queen
Star of herbal research scene
Keen defender, nappy-mender
Keeping Ynci's armour clean

NANNY:
Scumble mine, 'tis boozy perfume
Breath like fire can clear a big room
Girlish in spirit, bawling lyrics
Bawdy and rude -- boom-boom!

Ohh...
Star of Lancre, super-Gran
Head of matriarchal clan
Crude and chummy, Greebo's Mummy
Who can fix things? Nanny can!

GRANNY:
Hogswatch parties? Sausages fat?
Ha! I can't be having with that!
Bees I'll borrow near and far, so
I can patrol my patch

ALL:
Ohh...
Stars of Lancre, wyrd and wise
We've no need to advertise
Maiden, mother, and the... other
Guarding all 'neath Lancre's skies

-- Alice

For the original lyrics to the carol We Three Kings, go to:
http://www.cyberhymnal.org/htm/w/e/wethree.htm

November 2008

2008-11-30T23:09:00.000+11:00

THE NEW DISCWORLD HOROSCOPE
by Fernando Magnifico

Buongiorno my friends, it is I, Fernando, your astrologer today as the bellissima Lady Asterisk has come down with a bad case of the chives.

My friends, you may remember two months ago that Fernando's astrological charts disappeared under the very mysterious circumstances. Fernando's heart was crushed by his failure to be your astrologer, but he promised not to rest until he has discovered what fiend or diavolo would steal his star charts and leave you, my dearest readers, without your horoscope for the month. And this is what Fernando has done: Fernando has walked the streets of Ankh-Morpork tirelessly, he has visited the worst dens of iniquity and the lowest dive bars, and has consorted with all sorts of ruffians. Fernando has left no palm ungreased, no street unwalked, for nothing shall get in the way of Fernando's promise to "get to the underneath of" this mystery, as they say in Ankh-Morpork.

Fernando's tireless investigation has been successful, for I have discovered what afeared me last month: the shame of Brindisi, Carlos, that despoiler and corruptor of youth, that vain, conceited, shameless, brazen, swaggering popinjay, with his flowing hair and tight pantaloons and silk shirts, has arrived in Ankh-Morpork. Morporkia, beware!!! Lock up your sons and daughters!!! But do not fear, my friends, for Fernando is here, and so long as he can draw breath into his broad, manly chest, he shall not let the mocker and pretender Carlos lay waste to lovely Morporkia.

It is fitting that Fernando continues to investigate this mystery, for this month the stars too have much to say about mysteries. For is it not true that there is a lot that happens that we do not know about? Mysteries like, who is the werewolf in the Watch? How does Fernando look so good in his tight pantaloons and silk shirts? What was Fernando's cousin Tomas doing up the tree overlooking the nurses' dormitories outside the Lady Sybil Free Hospital? What do the Nac Mac Feegles wear under their kilts? Read on, my friends, to learn what the stars have to say about these, and many other, mysteries. Ciao bella!

The Adamant Hedgehog 21 Mar - 20 Apr

Your mystery this month is, "Who is the werewolf in the Watch?"

One of the worst-kept secrets on the Disc is that the City Watch of Ankh-Morpork has a werewolf working for them, but nobody knows who the werewolf is. Word on the street is that it must be Corporal Nobby Nobbs, but Fernando is unconvinced. Fernando has asked the stars, and can reveal for the first time the secret truth: the stars say that it is no less than Commander His Grace Sir Samuel Vimes himself who has a terrible beast inside him, a fearsome, ferocious monster kept barely leashed by the famous Vimes iron will.

The Half-Eaten Sandwich 21 Apr - 21 May

Your mystery is: "Why do fools fall in love?"

Ah, my friends, this is the most beautiful mystery of all, "il mistero di amore" as we say in Brindisi, the mystery of love. Fernando knows that all people in love are the magnificente fools, or even the Fools like the King Verence of Lancre. As the famous song says, "Perché gli uccelli compaiono improvvisamente? Poiché vogliono essere vicine a voi." Fernando has been the fool for love many, many times, for Fernando has molto grande love in him, enough for all (except perhaps Carlos, who does not love as Fernando loves). Perhaps the stars know why fools fall in love, but they are not saying. For Fernando, it is enough that they do. Viva il mistero!

Herne the Hunted 22 May - 21 Jun

Your mystery is: "What are the Dwarf Devices?"

Fernando hears that Lord Vetinari's wonderful new plans for the Undertaking are based on a device found under the city, known as the Device. It seems the Dwarfs have known about Devices for years beyond reckoning, but the origin of the Devices is lost in the mists of time, and even the Dwarfs don't know who created them, what they were for, when they were built, or how they work. The stars too have nothing to say about them, which is very unusual, but perhaps one of you Hernians will be the one to solve this mystery. For Fernando knows that when it comes to Hernians, all life is a mystery, mostly the mystery of "Why is everyone chasing me again?" and "Why does everything in Nature have such big teeth?"

The Wizard's Staff and Knob 22 Jun - 22 Jul

Your mystery is: "Why does the wizard's staff have a knob on the end?"

Some say that the knob on the end is for the benefit of the wizard, to protect him from dark magicks and occult forces. Others say that the knob on the end is for the benefit of others, to prevent the staff's magic from leaking out and grounding itself through innocent bystanders, or at least bystanders. Fernando hears that Archchancellor Ridcully of Unseen University says that the knob on the end is to give the staff extra weight, for those times when magic fails and a wizard needs to take a swing at a problem. But the stars suggest yet another reason: the knob on the end is to prevent the wizard's hand from sliding off the staff during some of the more energetic gestures.

Bilious, God of Hangovers 23 Jul - 23 Aug

Your mystery is: "Why are sheeps found facing the other way?"

Sheeps farmers have known of a mysterious phenomenumenumenum for generations. The sheeps will be seen in the field, and the very next morning they will be facing the other way, without anybody having turned them around. Fernando has consulted the stars about this, and they say that the mystery is caused by strange quantum phenomenumenumenums, the 'fluence of the Disc's standing magical field on the sheeps, but most of all, by the farmers liking to play the practical jokes on city people.

The Celestial Parsnip 24 Aug - 23 Sept

Your mystery is: "What happened to the Merry Celery? And why were the captain's boots found 250 miles away, in the Morpork mountains, still smoking?"

The mystery of the disappearing ship Merry Celery is known all over the Disc. During the rule of the Patrician Winder, as the ship was entering Ankh-Morpork port with a cargo of Bearhugger's Whiskey, bottled Wow-Wow Sauce, Agatean fireworks and flints, there was a mysterious flash of light, a mysterious loud noise described by eyewitnesses as "a really loud noise, like a million souls cried out Bang! and then were suddenly silenced", and the entire ship just disappeared. Lord Winder blamed it on a party of Zoons and had them executed, but he was always doing that sort of thing. Many people have studied the mystery of the Merry Celery, and blamed it on alchemists, dwarfs, trolls, Klatchians, left-over sourcery from the Mage Wars, and wood-worm, but Fernando is the first who has consulted the stars and can reveal the truth: the ship and its poor crew were caught in a quantum-electrical energy shift which caused every molecule of their beings to suddenly separate at high speed. As for the captain's boots, the Gods will have their fun.

The Small Boring Group of Faint Stars 24 Sept - 23 Oct

Your mystery is: "What is the secret of the missing socks?"

Why do socks disappear when you wash them? Why is it only one sock of the pair that always disappears? Fernando has learned that socks disappear because they are eaten by a mystical (but not mythical) bird called the Eater of Socks. Wherever there are socks or stockings being washed, the Eater of Socks is there to eat one. But only one. There can only be one.

The stars also suggest that sometimes socks go missing because they are used as weapons that kill people and leave buildings standing. Fernando does not understand what the stars mean by this, for surely not even Foul Ole Ron's socks could smell that terrible.

Androgyna Majestis 24 Oct - 22 Nov

Your mystery: the BeTrobi Quadrangle

One of the strangest areas on the Disc is the BeTrobi Quadrangle, reaching between the BeTrobi Islands and the Counterweight Continent. Ships in the Quadrangle disappear, sometimes even the witches on their broomsticks disappear, never to be seen again. Fernando's paesano Vincento Gambi, who used to make the unofficial imports from Agatea, told me that he had once seen a two-headed whale with two bodies in the Quadrangle. What causes the Quadrangle to be so mysterioso? Is it a gateway to another dimension? Are there strong winds and currents that blow the ships over the Hub? Are the Quirmians to blame? Gnarly ground over the water? Giant pockets of gas released from the ocean floor? Fernando has consulted the stars, and they say: giant waterspouts, monstrous waterspouts with teeth like sabres and claws like spears, or perhaps the other way around, rising from the ocean like a diavlo.

The Spoons, a.k.a. the Greater and Lesser Spoons, 23 Nov - 21 Dec

Your mystery: "What was Fernando's cousin Tomas doing up the tree overlooking the nurses' dormitories outside the Lady Sybil Free Hospital, and how did his pants end up in a completely different tree?"

Fernando would like to give you the stars' answer to this question, but he has been advised by Tomas' lawyer that to do so might hurt his client's chances of getting off. Fernando is very much sorry, but you will understand: Tomas is family.

Hoki the Jokester 22 Dec - 20 Jan

Your mystery is: "What do gnolls keep in their wheelbarrows?"

To the untrained observer, the gnolls' wheelbarrows look like they are piled high with garbage, but many people have wondered if that could possibly be all they carry? Fernando has consulted the stars, and they have answered the question: "Everything".

The Rather Large Gazunda 21 Jan - 18 Feb

Your mystery is: "Is there a talking dog in Ankh-Morpork?"

Fernando had hardly been in the city for a week when he started to hear stories of a talking dog. No two of the stories are alike: some people say the dog is a great hound, as big as a bear and twice as fierce, working for the Thieves' Guild as enforcer. Others say it is a sausage dog from Uberwald, or the Chairman of the Royal Bank, Mr Fusspot. The stars say that the werewolves know, but they won't tell. Fernando has made his own enquiries, and can reveal that it is a poodle with pink fur. But the stars also say that all is not as it seems.

Lesser Umbrage 19 Feb - 20 Mar

Your mystery: "What do the Nac Mac Feegles wear under their kilts?"

Fernando has spoken to many people who have met the pictsies and survived, and consulted the stars, and he has learned that the Feegles go al fresco under their kilts. Fernando is a seeker of truth, but even he thinks that the real mystery is why anyone would like to know what the Feegles wear under their kilts.

And finally, Fernando has solved a mystery for all the signs: "How does Fernando look so good in his tight pantaloons and silk shirts?" My friends, Fernando is a very modest man, and it pains him to talk about himself, but his sainted mamma taught him to always be honest, and the stars have spoken. Who is Fernando to go against the wishes of the stars? Fernando looks so good in his pantaloons and shirts because Fernando has the excellente taste in the clothings, and also because Fernando looks magnificent without his pantaloons and shirts. As they say in Brindisi, "non puoi fare un portafolio di seta da un orecchio di maiale", and Fernando is not the ear of the pig.

The Dibbler and the Alchemist

2008-11-30T14:06:00.001+11:00

(a tale of Moving Pictures)

The sun shone on the Circle Sea, shone there as small suns can
He did his very best to make bright lights for Beast and Man
And this was odd, because it was
Deserted beachfront land

The moon was shining sulkily behind Great T'Phon's trunk
She'd got no business to be there but she was in a funk
"It's very rude of him," she said,
"To highlight ancient junk!"

The sea was calm from Rim to shore, the sands without rainfall
You could not see a crowd, because the crowd were corpses all
No priest called out Performances
There was no priest to call

The Dibbler and the Alchemist were walking close at hand;
They wept like anything to see such property unplanned
"If this were only put to use,"
They said, "we'd make ten grand!"

"If several men with several imps worked on from dawn til tea
Do you suppose," the Dibbler said,
"That we could wrap Reel Three?"
"I doubt it," said the Alchemist, and sighed impotently.

"O actors, come and walk with us!" The Dibbler made his pitch
"A few hours' work (not counting perks)
Will roll without a hitch
We cannot lose, this golden shore
Is bound to make us rich."

The famous Gaspode looked at him with never a bark of "Cheers!"
The famous Gaspode bared his teeth
And scratched his flea-bit ears
Meaning to say this enterprise
Was bound to end in tears.

But more young hopefuls hurried up all keen to make their name
Their thoughts were fogged, their faces blank,
Their hearts immune to shame
And this was odd, because, you know,
They knew not why they came.

More would-be click-stars followed them, and yet another crew
Quick as they could, to Holy Wood, to make their dreams come true
While painting wooden scenery
And eating Borgle's stoo.

The Dibbler and the Alchemist worked on a month or so,
And then they rested on a rock (in fact, a disguised troll)
Then totted up percentages
And said, "We're on a roll!"

"The time has come," the Dibbler said, "To talk, and let's be frank
Of Passione, fire, and elephants. Of premieres on the Ankh
And why the world has all Gone Madde
And how to fill the bank."

"But wait a bit," young Victor cried, "Before we leave this shore;
For Ginger's in the grip of Things behind the magic Door!"
"No worries!" said the Alchemist.
"We're thaumless to the core."

"A Wonder Dog," the Dibbler said, "Is what this epic needs
Adverts subliminal besides, and two romantic leads
Now if you're ready, handlemen,
Bring on the dashing deeds!"

"Here comes de Syn!" the public cried, giving the stars their due
Beauty and beasts all on display; the Wizards came to view
"How puzzling," the Patrician said,
"I'm less well-known than you?"

"It was so kind of you to come, in fog as thick as steam!"
Then Bezam Planter's daughter played the Dungeon Dimensions theme
All patrons were transfixed until
The crowd began to scream!

"In Ribobe's name," young Victor said, "I curse you, now depart!"
Gigantic Ginger grabbed an ape and climbed the Tower of Art
Then Victor conjured horse and sword
And played it from the heart.

"I weep for me," the Dibbler said: "Alas, my empire dies."
With sobs and tears he sauntered off to more familiar lies,
Back to a life behind a cart
Of sausages and pies.

"Oh, buggrit," said the Alchemist, "My grand career is gone!
Shall I be trotting homeward now
To face a jobless dawn?
The world is back to sane again..."

...but Holy Wood dreams on...

-- Alice

Note for Roundworlders: the original poem The Walrus and the
Carpenter, by Lewis Carroll, can be found at:
http://www.jabberwocky.com/carroll/walrus.html

Clog Post 16 with Rockin' Round The Discworld

2008-10-31T13:25:00.003+11:00

THE CLACKS LOG OF WEIRD ALICE LANCREVIC

Post 16. HOMEWARD BOUND

This will only be a shortish Clog, because I'm off at last! All my possessions have been returned by the Watch, with nothing missing, and I'm packed and ready to go.

Looking back on my months here, I'd have to say I'm happy -- feeling glad; I've got Ankhstones in my bag; I'm luteless, but not for long; my lucre is coming on... all in all, not a bad way for this wandering Bard to end a long and eventful stay in Ankh-Morpork.

Today was a chilly Sektober morning, still dark outside, and raining just a bit. We left the Palace under cover of Dawn (One Glorious Dawn, that is; a very friendly Agatean immigrant who's recently joined the Palace Guard, having arrived with references from the Emperor Cohen himself), who thoughtfully provided us with shelter under his cloak as we scuttled through the early morning streets. Not many people about at this time of day, although I could hear the ripe swearing of traders setting up their stalls in Sator Square and the dull clonks of King's men collecting night-soil buckets... typical charming A-M street sounds, I'll almost miss them.

It's also a good thing I still have my Personal Demonicommunication Activator -- otherwise I'd be buried in reams of Clacks flimsies. So many good-luck and thank-you and sad-you're-leaving messages from people all over (and under) the city! I've been reading through them while I wait for my coach... The ladies at Mrs Palm's ordered me a saucygram, but the Palace guards wouldn't let him in, so I was treated instead to a, shall we say, eye-popping performance in the coaching yard as our baggage was being stowed! The coachmen were very amused. As for the saucygram himself, I have to say he certainly was all there (yes, I got his C-mail address; never know when one might want a male stripper to make housecalls in Lost Wages). After he put his clothes back on, he kindly gave me the Woo Hon Ling catalogue I promised to take home for 'the girls'. I'm sure it will provide me with many interesting hours of reading on my journey...

Listeria, Lucrezia and Anaglypta came along to see me off. We got quite teary! I thought Listeria might be joining me on the first leg of the trip, because she mentioned having to make a stop in Sto Helit before setting off again around the Disc, but it seems that my coach goes direct to Sto Lat instead. What's more, it looks like there wouldn't be room for her anyway, because, there's a party of five Cabbage Grower's Collective Bank actuaries sharing the first leg with me. Luckily for me, none of them looks to be the talkative kind. I doubt they'd be interested in the catalogue, either; they probably only get excited about columns of figures, not graphically illustrated intertwined ones...

Cert couldn't join us at the coaching yard. I knew that in advance, because he's back to working 24/8 somewhere below Dolly Sisters on the Undertaking, but he has some holidays coming and intends to join me in Lost Wages in time for Hogswatch... ooh, almost time to go -- and our driver, a Mr Bombalurina from Brindisi, just told me "the lads" would appreciate it if I could give them a song, and he just happens to have a lute in his locker in the office. My last performance in Ankh-Morpork! I'm putting the imp into Record mode:

he'll

Well, that went down a treat. They wanted me to do more, but some Watchmen just showed up. To report that I'm leaving, no doubt. So it's goodbye to the little house on Silver Street, and goodbye to the various Guilds who have been so welcoming to me, and goodbye to the dirty old Ankh, and to all the wonderful pubs and shops and restaurants and Cultural Experiences and Colourful Local People. It's been...educational. I do hope I can come back some day.

Time to leave. The sun is rising, and we're just pulling out of the yard now. I'm homeward bound!

-- Alice

Note for Roundworlders: the original lyrics for Rockin' in the Free
World, by Neil Young, can be found at:
http://www.thrasherswheat.org/fot/lyrics_ritfw.htm

October 2008

2008-10-31T11:25:00.002+11:00

THE NEW DISCWORLD HOROSCOPE
by Fernando Magnifico

Hallo and buongiorno to all my friends! It is I, Fernando, and I shall be your astrologer today for the Lady Asterisk is unavailable after an unfortunate accident with an egg whisk.

My friends, Fernando this month has the good news! You may remember that last month Fernando's heart was like the finest red rose beneath the foot of a golem -- utterly crushed -- as his star charts had mysteriously disappeared, although Fernando was fully paid up with the Thieves Guild. But do not fear, for Fernando's dearest friend Vicki has found the star charts for sale in a pawn shop in Sator Square. (Fernando sends his thanks, and will be around next week with his fig-leaf for another sketch.) Fernando now is able to make the horoscopes again.

But Fernando is worried, for there is only one possible explanation for the mystery of how the charts were lost: Fernando's nemesis, Carlos. Fernando does not wish to speak of Carlos, and yet he must, for it is his duty to warn Morporkia, who has taken Fernando to her magnificent bosom, of Brindisi's shame. Carlos is everything Fernando is not: vain, conceited, a shameless despoiler of women and corrupter of the youths, a thief who steals wives from their husbands and young men from their fiancees, and a terrible dresser too. If ever a fiend took on human form, it is Carlos. Fernando is greatly feared that Carlos has followed him to Ankh-Morpork. But do not worry my friends, for Fernando shall not rest until he has learnt what mischief Carlos is up to. But first, Fernando shall see what the stars have to say. Ciao bella!

The Adamant Hedgehog 21 Mar - 20 Apr

The stars this month are saying that this is a good time for Hoggers to demand a promotion. Fernando knows that every month is a good time for Hoggers to demand a promotion, for the Hogger personality is spiky, short-tempered and demanding, just like Fernando's Aunt Maria, who is the terror of her nephews including cousin Luciano who once ate an entire cow and is eight inches taller and 350 pounds heavier than her. Fernando has learned much from Aunt Maria. But this month is especially good, for the stars smile upon the Hoggers in their business dealing. For Hoggers who are self-employed, it is a good month to start a new business, or perhaps to take over a rival's business.

The Half-Eaten Sandwich 21 Apr - 21 May

Sandies, or Munchers, are still experiencing some left-over influence from Gahoolie the Vase of Tulips. Fernando knows that it is the remnant of Gahoolie that gives Munchers the enthusiasm to go out to Forn lands and convert the heathen this month, and from the Half-Eaten Sandwich the sense to choose which heathens to convert. The stars suggest that this month is a good time to go to the Brown Islands or Slakki, where the natives are easy-going and friendly, and not such a good time to go the Tezuman Empire or Krull, where they have their own opinions about who are the heathens.

Herne the Hunted 22 May - 21 Jun

This month the stars tell Fernando that it is the auspicious time for Hernians and romance. This fills Fernando with the happiness, for Fernando knows well the joy of romance and he likes to see others also joyful. But Hernians are sometimes shy and retiring, and need encouragement, so Fernando has asked the stars for espeziale advice.

For those wanting to romance the ladies, the stars they say that flowers or small gifts will be very appropriate, except for those ladies born with Great T'Phon in the cusp of the Flying Moose. For those ladies, they may have an unfortunate tendency to eat the flowers, and the stars suggest a gift of jewellery instead. A gift of a small pet is also good: the stars suggest a small puppy or kitten, or for the more adventurous, a swamp dragon, but if you really want to make the good impression and you can afford it, the stars suggest a Ring-Tailed Ocelot.

For those wanting to romance the gentlemens Hernians, the stars recommend taking an interest in their favourite footsball team, unless they are the supporters of Quirm, buying them tools, or if all else fails, turning up at their door wearing a large coat with nothing underneath. Fernando is especially fond of that last one.

Fernando can also help with personal tuition for any Hernians wanting to learn more about the romance and the writing of love-letters and other related activities.

The Wizard's Staff and Knob 22 Jun - 22 Jul

Traditionally many wizards and quite a few witches as well are Staffies, and for them Fernando does not have good news, for Fernando is not like some of those other astrologers who will tweak the horoscope so it only gives the good news. You can trust Fernando's horoscopes, for like Fernando himself, his horoscopes are upright and honest and how you say, meticulous. The stars this month warn that it is not a good month for magic: this will be no hardship for senior wizards, but student wizards with examinations in the next few weeks will have to work twice as hard.

Bilious, God of Hangovers 23 Jul - 23 Aug

This month is a good month for Bilians, for Fernando knows that so say the stars. But Fernando also knows that the typical Bilian is nervous and pessimistic, very different from Fernando, but life would be boring if everyone was the same. Fernando is never boring -- surprising, adventurous, romantic and skillful in many of the arts, but never boring -- and he thinks that the world is molto exciting for the many differences we have.

For Bilians, this month will be in general the good month, a small taste of la dolce vita as we say in Brindisi. You should expect the small things to go right, and the big things to not go wrong.

The Celestial Parsnip 24 Aug - 23 Sept

This month Snippies should beware of their health, for the stars warn that they are at risk of illness. Fernando's mamma would always make sure Fernando wore a warm coat in Brindisi winters, but of course Brindisi winters are not like Ankh-Morpork winters.

Snippies, the stars warn that you are at particular risk of the gurgles, chicken pox, duck pox, buffalo pox, and most worrying of all, caledonia nervosa, the morbid fear of becoming a Nac Mac Feegle. The best prevention for that last is to actually meet the Mac Feegles -- one "Crivens" from you and you'll receive such a kickin' that you'll be cured of any fear of turning into a Feegle. It may be replaced by a morbid fear of meeting the Feegles again, but as Fernando knows, that is perfectly normal and nothing to be concerned about.

The Small Boring Group of Faint Stars 24 Sept - 23 Oct

Boring'uns can expect a mixed time this month, like the vino Fernando's Uncle Alfonso makes. First comes the sweet, for the stars predict that the beginning of the month will be quiet, peaceful and blissfully safe for Boring'uns. The stars predict the most frightening thing will be a run-in with an unusually sharp asparagus spear.

But Fernando is sorry for the Boring'uns, for just when you are enjoying the quiet the most, the stars will turn things around on you. Like Uncle Alfonso, whose first batch of vino for the year is sweet, but then he partakes of a little too much vino himself and the second batch of vino is sour, you can expect interesting times in the second half of the month, as the Agateans put it. The gods like their little surprises, but the stars warn about visits from in-laws, pineapples, tax audits and a mix-up at the Thieves Guild. Fernando recommends you get a copy of your Guild voucher and carry it around with you at all times. It won't stop you being robbed, but it may prevent that second thump on the head.

Androgyna Majestis 24 Oct - 22 Nov

For Andies this month, you should beware of family arguments. You can expect to see a molto grande mountain grown from the piccolo ant hill. Fernando knows how it goes: a brief comment or a passing remark, a reply, another reply, and before long somebody is saying "You'll bring That Woman into this house over my dead body" or "If you knew what your brother said about you, you wouldn't be sitting there so calmly". Fernando knows very well how it goes, for nobody argues and loves with so much passion as a Brindisian family! Fernando remembers when he was a boy, Uncle Nino (mayherestinnapeace) and Uncle Rafael fighting in the street over what Uncle Salvatore had said to grandmamma Angelina about cousin Tony (not cousin Tony who makes the yellow water who I have talked about before, Uncle Angelo's boy Tony, the one with the squint) and his fiancee Rosalinda the daughter of Francesco the barber, while their wives cheered them on, until Aunt Maria hit them both with her broom.

The Spoons, a.k.a. the Greater and Lesser Spoons, 23 Nov - 21 Dec

This month Spooners will find that it is a good month for the cooking and the food. With the stars giving you assistance, there will be no more burnt toast, meat burnt to charcoal, or rubbery eggs. Your pasta will be al dente, your salads fresh and not limp, and your soups thick and hearty and flavoursome. To be brief, you will cook almost as well as a Brindisian -- which probably means your family will ask "what's this foreign muck?" and go out for a plate of burnt lard swimming in grease or a sausage inna bun.

Fernando loves Ankh-Morpork, the sights, the sounds, especially the peoples, but he will never get used to the food.

Hoki the Jokester 22 Dec - 20 Jan

This month is a good time for Hokians to do the redecoration. Fernando has seen that this is so! Hokians especially understand the wisdom of Mrs Cosmopilite, "A change is as good as a rest", so if you cannot go away on holiday, redecorate your house instead. Whether you are repainting it, or replacing the rugs, or just moving the furniture around, the stars say that the prospects for redecoration are very good. As they say, "Give your house a new leash on life!", although Fernando has never understood where you are suppose to tie the leash.

Fernando's cousin Palomita loves to redecorate, or perhaps it would be more accurate for Fernando to say that Palomita loves to let others do the heavy lifting. Fernando has spent many long hours during the hottest summer days bare to the waist and glistening with the perspiration, dragging wardrobes from one side of the room to the other and then back again while Palomita sits on the couch and gives instructions.

The Rather Large Gazunda 21 Jan - 18 Feb

This month, the stars speak of debt for Gazundians. Fernando knows that there are debts that are owed, and debts that are owing, and there are debts that can never be repaid. If you owe debts, then this is a good time to pay them off, for Fernando hears from a man who knows a man who is tailor to Mr von Lipwig of the Ankh-Morpork Bank that interest rates are about to rise again. And if you are owed debts, the stars speak of using those debts as equity, and selling those debts to other lenders. What could go wrong?

Lesser Umbrage 19 Feb - 20 Mar

It is said that there are only two things certain in life, death and taxes. But Umbragians this month can be certain of something else: whatever you do, whatever you say, the Patrician will know it -- possibly even before you do. For the stars say that you have come to the attention of his Dark Clerks and their spies. The stars do not say why. Perhaps it was that incautious tirade against his Lordship out in the street after six too many of the Ankh-Morpork beers. (Fernando knows that the Patrician does not mind it when people make threats against him when drunk. It's the ones who don't make threats that need watching.) Or the suspiciously exact tax return. Or the barrels of scumble and the cart loads of fertiliser, and you with no garden. Or perhaps one of the Dark Clerks had a quota to fill and your name had the wrong sort of vowels. The stars do not say, but they do say that for the next month you should watch what you say, send no incriminating clacks, and for preference, sit very very quietly in a dark cellar with a blanket over your head, and you just might avoid having to help the Watch with their enquiries.

Clog Post 15 with Poisoned

2008-09-30T16:01:00.003+10:00

THE CLACKS LOG OF WEIRD ALICE LANCREVIC

Post 15. THERE...AND NOT QUITE BACK AGAIN

First Clog: "We have a Plan..."

Which is to say that we had a plan. I was finally packing to leave, but now I'm completely packed and soon leaving, because something unexpected happened. So as of now the Sisters of Invention are disbanded, or at least a band that's banned forever from playing in Ankh-Morpork. And we can't play at present because we're... well... guests of the Patrician. Which is to say, under house arrest at the Palace.

What happened, do I hear you ask? What happened was that Lucrezia had a little, um, mishap, and it reflected badly on all of us. Yes. Right. Mishap. I'm sure that's what it was.

Luckily, no-one died. Otherwise we'd be downstairs in the famous dungeons -- or worse -- instead of marking time in a rather well-appointed suite of rooms in one of the disused wings of the Palace.

An accidental mass poisoning is a mishap, surely...

I'm not too clear on the details, but it seems that last week when we were doing our regular gig at Wahoonie, I'm Home, the barman and a number of customers were paying a little too much unwanted attention to Lucrezia, who after all is young and attractive, if a little odd. I'm sure it was just an accidental slip of the hand that caused the adulteration of several pitchers of cocktails with one of her favourite custom-brewed poisons. How was she to know that all those large chaps in the corner were out on a stag party? Personally, I think it was probably the Ankh water in the Aqueduct de Luxe cocktails that was to blame, but one doesn't argue with the Watch when they show up promptly -- which they did -- and well-armed -- which they were. There was a lot of shouting and a lot of questions, not to mention a lot of agonised groaning (from the large chaps who drank from said pitchers and were now rolling around on the floor with green froth coming out of their mouths, and yes, it was a different colour of green than the green froth on the Rule You Wholesale cocktail), and we got taken into custody and spent the rest of the night at Pseudopolis Yard. They took our instruments into custody as well, but gave us receipts for them. All in all we were treated quite well, possibly because we're the right sort of foreign but also possibly because we've become very popular in A-M and even possibly because Cert has a fair amount of influence by way of his working on the technomantic side of the Undertaking, and we were given some very nourishing tea. Watchmen certainly know how to make the kind of nourishing tea that gets you through the night, even if it is strong enough to dissolve the glaze on the inside of the regulation prisoner mugs.

And then in the morning we were taken to the Palace. And here we remain. They ever gave us back our instruments (which is why we're in an unused wing, I imagine), but kept Lucrezia's handbag as Evidence.

A very polite Captain of the Watch, tall and smelling of soap and dog biscuits, came to see us this morning. He gave us a stern lecture and said that, as no actual life was lost and as the Patrician is very busy at the moment, we're going to be allowed to leave soon, so long as we promise to depart immediately from A-M and agree to never, ever perform in the City again (scorpion pits were mentioned). Also, if any of us ever return for a non-musical visit, we have to report to the Watch on arrival. That seems fair, even if it was surely all a misunderstanding.

So I'm finally going home.

Cert had a plan as well, and still does. He's been allowed to visit, when he's not working all hours on the Undertaking or studying up at the University; did I mention that due to rapid promotion he's now a Doctor of Technomancy as well as a Bachelor of Fluencing? His plan is to join me in Lost Wages as soon as possible. He's going to open a wizarding practice there, since the town is booming again, and continue his UU graduate studies via Omniscope. Since Omniscopes are tricky devices at the best of times, this is no small project! The latest model Omniscope discharges its excess thaums into a carefully -- very carefully -- set-up basin of pure rainwater; the smallest misadjustment could result in Lost Wages being a smoking hole in the landscape, but luckily Cert has enlisted the aid of visiting BU cisterns analyst Neil Beardie-Bloke for refining his calculations. Hopefully that means all will work out well...

* * *

Owing to our situation, I feel a song coming on. It's about Ankh water, unsurprisingly. The River Ankh, particularly in A-M, has had much written about its water, and I can assure you that all of it is true. That's because it's...

POISONED

Here endeth this post.

* * *

Second Clog: "I shall be released"

Any day now, they tell us. Cert has kindly booked passage for me to Lost Wages with one of the best coaching companies. No leaky boats for me this time! Just a (hopefully) safe, comfortable coach journey, straight across the Rimwards side of the Sto Plains, through the Forest of Skund, a day's stopover in Lancre to pick up the post and whatnot and test the new vintage scumble at the Goat and Bush, and then home sweet home. I should be there in not much more than a week - barring breakdowns, highway robbers, rains of fish, early Yeti migrations, a wandering Undead eating the coach driver...but that's just the usual.

* * *

Looking back on my adventures, I would say this Grand Sneer has definitely broadened my horizons and made me far more mature and experienced -- far more experienced at any rate. It's not many a person who can live a long, full, dramatic life, die in bed surrounded by fat grandchildren, and then get to live a long, full, dramatic life all over again (apart from certain History Monks and, I suppose, Yeti, though the History Monks wouldn't have fat grandchildren as such). This time around I'm going to go for the less full and dramatic parts, though. A pint or ten by the fire in The Sore Loser, a bit of a sing-song, some good old-fashioned Lancrastian and Borogravian cooking, the occasional late night watching the Omniscope to see that it doesn't implode...that will do me fine.

* * *

Speaking of cooking, I've been in correspondence with Mr Hassenpfeffer, owner and chief chef of the Grossenschweinebitzen restaurant. While he won't sell me his secret recipe for Ghoulish, he is very interested in opening a branch of GSB in Lost Wages. Hurrah!

* * *

There are rats in the walls. I hear them whispering at night.

* * *

Mrs Palm paid me a visit the other day. She said all the girls are very sad to see me go, and they hope I can come back some day for a visit, a few parties and maybe some (very) discreet solo gigs -- on a borrowed lute, of course. She also gave me the latest Woo Hon Ling catalogue to take up to the Lost Wages branch of the Seamstresses' Guild, because it might spontaneously combust if sent by ordinary post. Being a woman of the world these days, I've had a look through it. Blimey, she's right! I think Semolina is going to be very interested in some of the special appliances...

* * *

Now the rats are singing. They haven't great voices, but they know the words to some of my songs. How sweet.

* * *

Listeria says she's going to continue her travels. She wants to go to the Brown Islands and the Land of Fog, and possibly even on to EcksEcksEcksEcks. I wouldn't have minded seeing some more of the Disc myself, but while I'm not saying I'll never travel again, I think I'll at least take a break for a few years. I'm already feeling a bit nostalgic, but much of what's happened feels far away and faded, like it happened to someone else a long time ago. I think I shall read over and edit my Clacks logs and write them up as a book, just in case I have grandchildren some day and find I've forgotten most of the stories I'd want to tell them.

* * *

The rats delivered me a message last night! From my friends in Morpork Below. Seems my honorary status as a Belowgrounder is permanent, and I can come do concerts there any time I want. Well, that's one way around the banned band ban...

* * *

LuRid left. No-one knows when or where, except the rats, and they're not saying. I think he went home.

* * *

Anaglypta is going to close up the house in Silver Street and join her aunt on her further travels. Once again, I feel like some sort of fellowship is breaking up...

* * *

Ooh, genuine Slumpie for supper last night! With salad! That's the palace kitchens' idea of acceptable local cuisine. Sham Harga would never dream of putting salad on his plates; the customers would riot.

* * *

We're being released tomorrow. Time to go home!

-- Alice

Note for Roundworlders: the original lyrics for Poison by Alice
Cooper can be found at:
http://tinyurl.com/3embrs

September 2008

2008-09-30T09:03:00.001+10:00

THE NEW DISCWORLD HOROSCOPE
by Fernando Magnifico

Buongiorno! The Lady Asterisk is indisposed this month, for she was attacked by a rogue cheese.

My friends, it breaks Fernando's heart to write this, but he has failed in his sacred duty to be your astrologer. When he came to the beautiful city of Ankh-Morpork to study the art of astrology at the feet of the bellissima Lady Asterisk, Fernando swore that he would carry the burden of being astrologer for all his readers who rely on him. But now Fernando's food is like ashes in his mouth, even his Uncle Enzo's famous salami, the one with the chilli and fennel seeds, and the cold wind blows through Fernando's small but stylish room. Even Fernando's red velvet cloak gives him no pleasure, for it is like sackcloth on Fernando's soft yet manly Brindisian skin. Fernando now knows well what it is like to have a heart heavy with shame, for he has failed: Fernando's astrological charts have disappeared, and without them even Fernando cannot calculate the horoscopes.

It will take weeks to re-calculate the charts, for every astrologer's calculations are unique. So there can be no horoscope this month. Instead Fernando will take questions from his devoted readers:

Fernando cannot cast a precise horoscope this month, but Fernando has much experience in the knowing of personalities of each sign and knows that Boring'uns are not well suited for any job on a ship called 'The Vindictive'. Except perhaps for the job of victim. I recommend you take the job at the Cabbage Grower's Cooperative.

There is only one Signora Magnifico in Fernando's life, that is Fernando's sainted mamma, may the gods smile upon her.

Fernando gets the many proposals for marriage from the Signorinas, and sometimes the young Signores also. Fernando is always flattered, but he has too much love in him for any one person. This does not mean that Fernando will never be married, but it will have to be to a very special person who understands that it is Fernando's mission to spread his love to everyone in the world, except perhaps the Quirmian footsballers, and Carlos, but Fernando does not wish to speak of Carlos.

One of his missions. Fernando has many.

A whole family of bears? Fernando does not know where these stories come from. It was only the one bear, twenty feet tall on his back legs, with claws like daggers and teeth like even bigger daggers, and the bear he had found the signorina Valentina who was picking berries in the forest. Fortunately, Fernando was riding through the forest and came across them. Fernando's horse was frightened and threw Fernando and ran away, but Fernando got up and looked the bear straight in the eyes. The bear stood up on his back legs, thirty feet tall if he was an inch, and roared, and Fernando threw himself at the bear to save the signorina from being eaten. By the bear.

It was a terrible fight, for Fernando was unarmed except for a small stick he broke off a tree, but Fernando was victorious and the bear ran off into the forest and the signorina was saved. The cost was great though, for Fernando's favourite black silk shirt was ripped to shreds, and Fernando had to walk back to the village with his bare chest and back covered in terrible claw marks. From the bear you understand. Fernando's cousin Palomita had to go and have a lie down, and his Auntie Maria gave him a clip on the ear for riding bare-back and falling off the horse. She said that riding bare-back is dangerous, but Fernando laughs at danger.

Fernando has a great passion for the Brindisi opera. There are many such great operas, and it is very hard to decide which is best, but Fernando believes that perhaps the greatest of all is "Programma Nove da Spazio Cosmico" by the famed composer Eduardo Foresta. Who cannot be moved to tears by such as this?

E appena un salto il a sinistra
Ed allora un punto alla destra
Con le vostre mani sulle vostre anche
Portate le vostra ginocchia fortemente
Ma e la spinta pelvica che realmente lo guida insano
Li lascia ripetere il filo di ordito di tempo!

Fernando intends to make his new astrological charts, and next month the more usual horoscope should be back. Ciao bella!

Clog post 14 with YMPA and Reader In The Stacks

2008-08-31T15:39:00.002+10:00

THE CLACKS LOG OF WEIRD ALICE LANCREVIC

Post 14. BRIGHT LIGHTS, BIG CITY (PART 2)

First Clog: "I can't let Morpork go"

So...I'm still here. But I'll be heading home soon. Maybe in a few days. Or something.

It's hard to leave Ankh-Morpork. It's like, um, quicksand. Or slurry. You try to drag yourself out and it keeps sucking you back in. I know, I know, it smells like quicksand mixed with slurry too, but there's something about this city... I've heard it said that the city is a woman (though in that case, it's a woman of very questionable personal hygiene) who gets under your skin, but that sounds very uncomfortable and also crowded. Of course, A-M is uncomfortable and crowded, so maybe they have a point, but it's just... so... fascinating here. And exciting. And dangerous. Okay, maybe less of the dangerous as a recommendation, but so very fascinating. They say -- "they" say a lot of things, don't they? -- there are a million stories in this big festering fragrant megalopolis, and that means an endless supply of inspirations for a Bard to write about.

But I'm going home soon. Really. Yes.

Very busy these days, but here's some assorted news:

Career goes from strength to strength! The Sisters of Invention is a five-piece now: myself, Listeria, Anaglypta (really taken to the lute, she has), Lucrezia (very decent on the mandolin and banjo), and an expatriate called LuRid from Morpork Below who apparently used to play Below with a band called the Vurm-lit Underground (good drummer, but his voice is a bit cracked). We're playing at least four nights a week now, and we've even joined the Musicians' Guild! For all the disturbing stories I've heard about the Guild, it seems like a tame enough organisation, and the rates aren't too bad...though I did hear they went through a major reorganisation a few years ago, so maybe that explains it.

One of our regular gigs now is at Wahoonie, I'm Home. This means I get my Barbarian at the Gate cocktails free. This in turn means a lot of scumble hangovers, which means a lot of hair of the dog (or of the "...mostly apples..."), which means I'm feeling a bit, um, liverish lately. Well, more than a bit. Might have to go back to beer. Though there are some interesting new cocktails on the drinks menu. These include the Tired and Emotional, which features Genuan creme de menthe, Brindisian grappa and BeTrobi Islands rum and has even more of a kick than the Rule You Wholesale (though less of a brassica flavour); the Aqueduct de Luxe, which claims to include real Ankh water with gin to "make it safe for drinking" (but I don't believe mere spirits could sanitise Ankh water); the Duke of Ankh, which is just sparkling mineral water with a slice of lemon, but the barman does wave an unopened bottle of whisky near it before serving; the Grand Vizier, featuring melon liqueur from Al Khali and fig juice; and the Hook, Line and Stinkered, which believe it or not is made from fish consomme and Djelibeybian garlic wine. That one give a while new meaning to the phrase "liquid lunch"! Very inventive, these modern bartenders.

***

There's a new bookshop that's opened in Rime Street, near the Contract Bridge end -- it's called Waterstain's. I paid a visit the other day and found a real treasure: Bawdey Ballades, by A Wanton Ladye. I've put some of these to music and they're going down a treat at the Seamstresses' Guild gigs, especially when sung by Listeria with, um, explanatory gestures. Mr Waterstain is something of a treasure himself, very friendly and helpful. And he also sells lute strings! I'm putting this one on my personal Mapp.

***

Yesterday I met a man with a duck on his head. No-one seemed to notice it. How very A-M.

***

There's a display of antiquities, which is to say things dug up during the Undertaking, currently on view at an old house on Chrononhotonthologos Street. Very interesting.

***

There was a party at the home of Rosella, one of Mrs Palm's employees, last night. Much more interesting.

***

Had my first Dibbler sausage inna bun. Also my last Dibbler sausage inna bun. One and the same.

Mr Dibbler still wants to manage the Sisters. After that sausage? No chance.

***

Found an Uberwaldean restaurant called Grossenschweinebitzen (which translates in Morporkian as Many Parts of Pig). It's in Scrag End, just off Pigsty Hill, and they do Ghoulish. Proper Ghoulish! Best I've had since Bad Blitz on the Blut! I'll be going there again for sure.

***

A-M beer does not sit well on mornings after. Am back on the Barbarians. At least with a scumble hangover you know what you're getting, and even essence of dead sheep is better than some of the things they put in the beer here.

***

Bad smog last night - a real curry-souper. I could hardly sing for coughing. I could hardly play for inebriation too, but that's not the point. They say the Undertaking will help clear the air here; Gods know that would make A-M more appealing!

***

I'm going home soon. Really.

Here endeth this post.

* * *

Second Clog: "...and the course of true love never runs smooth..."

Cert moved back off campus. Not back in with us, though -- he's taken a room at the YMPA in God Street -- but we're still getting on well and not at all like a house on fire, as it were. He's not as deep in his studies now because he's taken a job on the Undertaking. It seems they need all the Technomancers they can get, and don't mind if they haven't a UU doctorate as long as they have Talent and experience. Cert definitely has experience, as you all know from reading this Clacks log! -- so he's being paid very well, which is how he was able to afford the genuine octarine pendant he bought me last week. I said I wasn't sure what to make of that, and he said I could always make an investment of it. Aww, how sweet!

I suggested the YMPA because so many people, well, denizens of A-M, recommend it. It's clean and pleasant in a slightly run-down way, and even more broad-minded than Mrs Cake about who resides there, if that's possible. I wrote a song about it:

* * *

Meanwhile, there's been another bit of what you might call romantic drama in our little circle...Lucrezia, of all people! It seems that some of her Little Errands took her to the University, and she met a special someone. A very special someone. It was one of those star-crossed relationships that was Never Meant to Be, but her life will never be the same again since she met the...

READER IN THE STACKS

* * *

Must fly now. Rehearsal time! And then I'll start packing to go home. Really.

-- Alice

Note for Roundworlders: the original lyrics for YMCA, by the Village
People, can be found at:
http://www.lyricsondemand.com/onehitwonders/ymcalyrics.html

...and the original lyrics for Leader of the Pack, by the Shangri-Las, can be found at http://tinyurl.com/62zks4

August 2008

2008-08-31T15:00:00.002+10:00

THE NEW DISCWORLD HOROSCOPE
by Fernando Magnifico

Buongiorno my dearest friends! The Lady Asterisk is indisposed this month, she has been bitten by the butterfly. But do not worry, for it is I, Fernando, and I shall shoulder the burden of being your astrologer this month.

This month, Fernando will use the horoscopes to answer some of the many questions sent to him by his readers. But first, Fernando is very exciting to announce that he can surf the clacks, for he has the C-mail address now and will be happy to receive letters and questions from his fans who are too far away to visit Fernando personally. Fernando promises to reply to everybody, no matter how much time it takes, for Fernando is a willing martyr to his devoted public. You can c-mail Fernando on Magnifico@Astrochelonian.AM now!

Fernando also knows that he is very popular across many dimensions, and he is owed a favour or three by some of the student wizards at the High Energy Magic Department. For this reason, Fernando has arranged for Hex to forward the Roundworld e-mails to him. For Fernando's readers in Roundworld, you can send the messages to <magnifico at pearwood dot info> and, if the interdimensional portals stay open long enough, Fernando will be happy to reply. But please, do not send Fernando any offers to make his manly parts any bigger, for Fernando is magnificent just as he is now. Ciao bella!

The Adamant Hedgehog 21 Mar - 20 Apr

Fernando's first letter is signed "Willikins".

Fernando is very excited by this letter, for Fernando loves a challenge. And what a challenge! The letter says nothing about the writer, which makes casting the horoscopes molto difficile for Fernando. But never fear, for Fernando is very good at what he does, and he will rise to the occasion no matter whether Willikins is perhaps the fashionable gentleman of fine distinction, or one of the very exciting young avant-garde (if you excuse my Quirmian, grazie) ladies of the art district who use only the one name and maybe enjoys painting the fig leafs. The letter says little, but Fernando's imagination is very wild. So Fernando has consulted with the stars, and the stars make Fernando's imagination even more wild. The stars say that Willikins will be in contact with fine wines and good food, and that he or she will often wield a sharp blade. The stars even suggest that there will be dragons. Fernando is intrigued.

The Half-Eaten Sandwich 21 Apr - 21 May

This letter is from the notable dwarf grag, Bashfull Bashfullsson, who writes:

Fernando salutes the wisdom of grag Bashfullsson, for Fernando knows that the stars speak to all peoples on the Disc, no matter their species and no matter whether the peoples are listening or not. The stars have this to say: remember that the truths of history are not always the history we know, and that words are like a double-edged axe. Especially, Fernando is certain, like a very old double-headed axe that has been mended many times but still can cut through... caramba, Fernando does not like to think of such things, for he believes in making the love, not the war.

Herne the Hunted 22 May - 21 Jun

Fernando has received a letter from the Hernian signorina who prefers to remain anonymous. The letter is too molto grande to publish it all, but here is a piccolo extract:

"Dear Fernando, I hope you don't mind me calling you Fernando, I feel that you have touched me in a way that so few astrologers and spiritual advisors manage to do. Your horoscopes have made such a difference to my life in too many ways for me to list, especially late at night when all is dark and hopeless. Mamma does not understand the blackness that crushes my soul, and Pappa tries, but he is so busy and is rarely home. And my brother is simply beastly to me. Oh Fernando, what shall become of me? When shall the unrelenting pain of my existence cease?"
Cara mia, it is never hopeless while Fernando is here, for he has a lifetime's experience in touching people in ways that others do not. Do not worry, for your letter reminds me of my little sister Dulcetta, except that Fernando was never the beast to her. She ran away to marry a young Lieutenant in the Brindisi Cavalry, it was so romantic and tragic for they had to overcome much opposition, but he is a Captain now and they are happy with the little bambino and many great big cuddly dogs.

Fernando has looked carefully at the stars, and they say that this month you should visit the museums and art galleries and find the romantic artists who will understand you, and if not, you will at least find the paintings of Fernando to ease your pain.

The Wizard's Staff and Knob 22 Jun - 22 Jul

This seems to be the month for anonymous letters. This one was written on a bananananana skin and left in Fernando's mail box together with a handful of peanuts:

"Ook ook OOK ook. Ook?"
Fernando has consulted the stars and has a prediction for the writer of this letter: when the UU Librarian reads this, the writer will very quickly learn what happens when student wizards try to play silly pranks on orangutans.

Bilious, God of Hangovers 23 Jul - 23 Aug

Fernando's letter is from the very famous Captain Blouse of Borogravia, who is visiting Ankh-Morpork as liaison to Lord Selachii's Dragoons.

As Fernando has mentioned before, Fernando is not a fighting man and does not approve of the warring, but he knows that there will be no shortage of astrologers who would be happy to cast the horoscopes for the regiments. None of them are as magnificent as Fernando, but Fernando is sure that they will be mostly adequate.

As for your young mathematician, the stars are doubtful that anyone would learn anything of consequence by studying the number of accidents among the bravissimo cavalry officers, and even if they did, credit would surely go to someone else.

The Celestial Parsnip 24 Aug - 23 Sept

This letter is from Mrs Confluence:

Fernando is glad to have brought some happiness into the life of a poor widow, and the stars say that a visit to Brindisi cannot go wrong. The food! The drink! The friendly people, apart from Fernando's Aunt Peppita! The sun, the sea, who would not love Brindisi? If you are looking for something a little closer to home, the lace works in Sto Helit are nice at this time of year. The stars also say the riverboats on the Vieux (Masculine) River are relaxing, but they warn against playing any friendly games of Cripple Mister Onion unless you can outstare a gargoyle.

The Small Boring Group of Faint Stars 24 Sept - 23 Oct

Assistant Postmaster Stanley Howler writes to Fernando:

Fernando does not need to be an astrologer to answer this question, but Fernando is very thorough and always takes his time to do things right, and so he has cast the horoscope to be sure. The stars say that this is a good month for cross-referencing stamp collections, but that it is an even better month for the romance, and that the young lady is interested in more than just the stamps, although she is perhaps interested in licking.

Androgyna Majestis 24 Oct - 22 Nov

Fernando is a great lover of many things, and one of those things is the opera, so Fernando is very exited to receive a letter from the prima diva Christine from the Ankh-Morpork Opera House:

tiny

Fernando feels sympathy for Signorina Christine, for he too knows what it is like to give of your talents until it hurts. Fernando has not had a holiday for many weeks, for he has a duty to his readers.

Fernando is especially fond of this opera, especially the Wedding Aria: "Quem ha liberato i cani fuori? Abbaio! Abbaio!" Who can fail to be moved to tears by such beauty, nearly as much beauty as the diva herself? For the sake of the opera fans, Fernando is very pleased that the stars say that this is an excellent month for the diva to put her personal feelings aside and take the role.

The Greater and Lesser Spoons, 23 Nov - 21 Dec

Fernando has received this letter from the perfectly respectable troll businessman Chrysoprase:

Fernando knows very well that many people wish to look like Fernando, with his thick black hair and red velvet jacket, so Fernando is not offended that even trolls sometimes try to imitate him. For as they say, imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, and Fernando is sure they meant no offence.

The stars warn that business deals never last forever, but that they can last long enough if precautions are taken, like guarantees, promissory notes or hostages. I must admit that Fernando is a stranger to the world of finance, and so it is possible that he has misunderstood that last term.

Hoki the Jokester 22 Dec - 20 Jan

This letter is from Mr Nealey Dun, of the Shades.

Fernando is deeply moved by your family tragedy, and has studied hard the stars for this month, taking special care to interpret the interesting bloodstains on your letter, and Fernando can give good news and bad news. The bad news is that the stars do not say that you will succeed in your quest for compensation this month, but the good news is that justice will come some day, and that your Uncle, mayherestinpeace, will surely be getting everything he deserves in the afterlife.

The Rather Large Gazunda 21 Jan - 18 Feb

This letter is from Fernando's personal friend, the renowned Blackribboner artist the Baroness Evangelika Lugubria Arroganta Barbina Solfami von Fledermausen, who runs the eccellente art gallery in Broadway:

"Dear dahlink Fernando, how I haf missed you! It haf been weeks since you've come around with your fig leaf for a portrait! I hope you hafen't forgotten your Vicki for another artist, I vould be so jealous. I have many young men with figleafs to paint, but you will always be my favourite. But tell me dahlink, what do the stars say this month? Perhaps you could come over and give your Vicki a personal reading, ja?"
Forget you? Never! Fernando is a slave to his art, but Fernando has many arts, and he must work hard on the horoscopes as well as the fig leaf art. For now, Fernando will cast the ... public horoscope. The stars say that this is a good month for the exhibitions, and of course it is always a good month for a portrait of Fernando with fig leaf.

Lesser Umbrage 19 Feb - 20 Mar

Sometimes even the astrologers as magnificent as Fernando make the wrong predictions. This letter from Done It Duncan explains why:

Fernando wishes to set the record straight. Not everybody got food poisoning, it was only the bridal party and a few of the guests and the family of the bride and the groom's dad and sister and the priest and a passing dog.

Fernando has looked carefully at the stars, and the stars say that Mr Duncan has learned his lesson and will not repeat his mistakes. Fernando is very forgiving, and in good conscience he cannot find it in him to blame Mr Duncan or complain to the Watch.

Clog post 13 with Igors Are Discworld's Best Friends

2008-07-31T11:57:00.002+10:00

THE CLACKS LOG OF WEIRD ALICE LANCREVIC

Post 13. BRIGHT LIGHTS, BIG CITY

First Clog: "No aversion to verse..."

So, here I am in A-M still. Of sights I've not yet had my fill; the world beyond my windowsill is beckoning, and seeming to call me with its siren air, from Beggars' Gate to Sator Square with flash and dash and odours rare (the river's high and steaming). Though it's not quite a 'beauty spot', it's wither-proof and ages not - and nowhere else on Disc has got attractions so redeeming as the charm of ancient Ankh and Morpork, teeming...

Whew, that's enough of that. It's contagious, it is, speaking all in verse...even for a Bard, and I do it for a living! But this is somewhat different: you see, lately I've been hanging out with the Lost Tribe of Unreal.

Let me explain. The Lost Tribe of Unreal wear fancy frock coats. They're curious, odd and speak only in rhyme; descended from rats, cats, mice, dogs, pigs and goats, plus vermine and ferrets and one or two stoats, they've risen from rankness to manners sublime in Morpork Below, living outside of Ti-, argh, I'm doing it again. Um, let me rephrase that. The Lost Tribe of Unreal are very unusual people -- yes, definitely people -- who evolved from small animals that once foraged in the UU middens. We all know about high levels of millithaums around the University's Unreal Estate and what that can do to herrydeterryness (remember those stories about the talking dog that used to work for The Times?), and the ancestors of the Lost Tribe must have got a strong dose of something left over from the Mage Wars because it's hard to tell them apart from ordinary humans and werewolves. I first met them at the Floating Party when I overheard people speaking in verse. That sort of thing catches a Bard's ear. We got to talking, well, reciting, and drinking, and in the end I became one of the few humans who's ever been taken to visit their lair -- though when I say lair, I promise you that I've seen stately homes decorated with far less taste and artistry. It seems the Tribe got its humanising education from lurking around and under formal balls at the Patrician's Palace; for whatever reason, music and verse formed their language and fancy dress their tribal costume. Apparently they were living in peace (more civilised than we are!) for untold generations until very recently, when some excavations caused harmonics that breached the whatever-it-is between Morpork Below and A-M. These days, if you happen to be walking down Broad Way and see someone unusual-looking and dressed in pre-Century of the Fruitbat clothing, it could well be a Lost Tribe tourist "up above" for a bit of sightseeing.

Then again, it could be Nobby Nobbs on his way to folk-dancing practice.

Anyway, I've been having a great time with the Tribe, but that's not the only news in the life of Alice. As I mentioned in my last Clog, I now have a resident gig at the Seamstresses' Guild -- and in case you were wondering, no, it's not that sort of gig -- and it's going well. Listeria and I have been rehearsing, as we promised each other so long ago before the pirates and the flying carpets and the wilds of Klatch and the wilds of Tsort and the wilds of Agatea and the alternate universe (has it really been that long?), and we have some good harmonies worked out now. Cert moved into rooms at UU because we were keeping him up all hours with our practice...we haven't broken up as such, but life seems to be taking us down different paths now. Mine has a lot more beer in it...and I've been giving Anaglypta lute lessons and she's coming along well, so our once idle talk of putting a band together is less idle now. I even had the two of them join me for a guest spot the other night! We sang Brindisian Rhapsody and quite brought the house down. I introduced them as the Sisters of Invention and the name looks like it might stick. Now if I can only convince Mr Dibbler (yes, finally met him) that no, we don't want a manager. Very persistent, that man.

* * *

Last night I went to a new cocktail lounge called Wahoonie, I'm Home. It's one of those themed places that, in this case, features "genuine Ankh-Morpork historical decor", which means an enterprising entrepreneur went around collecting bits of architecture unearthed in the Undertaking and piled them together in a realistic imitation of a rubbish tip. Surprisingly, it works. There's something oddly charming about tables made of old statuary and pieces of roofing, a bar made of upside-down ancient horse troughs, benches welded from what were once the shining iron gates of some lord's grand estate...and yes, the loos are old night-soil buckets. Scrubbed, of course, although I imagine that after a few months you won't be able to tell the difference between old poo and new. It was Listeria's house-help Lucrezia, of all people, who found it; that girl has hidden depths. Wahoonie, I'm Home features specialist cocktails, themed as well: they range from the Sword of Tacticus, which features 250-year-old brandy and Quirmian champagne and costs a bloody fortune, to the Rule You Wholesale, which features week-old Bearhugger's brandy dregs and broccoli juice and can knock anyone but an experienced Lancrastian drinker for six. My favourite is the Barbarian at the Gate because it has genuine scumble in it. I noticed that Lucrezia was spiking her cocktails with something green and smoking out of a little phial she brought in her handbag. You won't be surprised to hear I took my own drink with me whenever I had to go to the Ladies...

I've changed my mind about A-M -- I like it here. A lot. I think I'll stay.

Here endeth this post.

* * *

Second Clog: "I've got a little secret..."

A-M calls itself the city that never sleeps, and it's certainly all go here. It's also said that A-M has something for everyone even if that something is, for many citizens and visitors alike, a short sharp knock on the head in a dark alley. One thing it has plenty of is society -- high society, low society, and secret society -- and since coming here I've sampled them all. Secret societies are all the rage these days, even though many of them are what you might call badly kept secrets. They come in all varieties and cater to all tastes, from the aforementioned folk-dancing clubs (in many ways the most secret of all, since being a member of a folk-dance club is the sort of dark secret one wouldn't want the neighbours to know about) to the like of Chains of Love (Tuesdays and Saturdays upstairs at the Pink Pussy Cat Club), the Brotherhood of Wishful Thinkers (alternate Octedays in a hut in the woods near the Tump; would-be barbarian ravagers, most of them henpecked accountants, who hatch plans for Disc-wide reigns of terror), and yes, the sorts of secret societies that tend to cowled black robes and complicated handshakes involving rolled-up trousers and the occasional burnt offering. A Bard can get into places most people can't, and this is how I came to join the Illuminated and Ancient Brethren of Ee -- not to be confused with the Elucidated Brethren of the Ebon Night, who eventually got past their chequered past and re-formed as a reformed society of doers of good works (or the Justified and Ancient Brethren of Ee Bah Gum, whose chapter-house is near my old family home back in Lancre and who practise the ancient and terrible Ramtops martial are of Tor Fu).

Actually, all they wanted was for me to write them a secret drinking song, but I had to join in order to deliver it to them because they practise ancient and terrible dark forbidden magic (funny, isn't it, how many secret societies claim to practise ancient and terrible things, most of which were invented by their founder on a not-ancient rainy Wednesday). So I went through their ancient and terrible initiation rites -- which I can't talk about because they're secret -- and sat through one of their meetings, which was certainly full of ancient figgins and terrible tea, and taught them their song -- which I can't write about here because it's secret. I also got my very own cowled robe (also ancient; I think it used to be a collection of grain sacks), and that was where it got terrible for me, because on the way home the cowl fell down over my eyes and I tripped over my own hem and ended up in the Lady Sybil Free Hospital with multiple fractures.

Hurrah for the Hospital! And hurrah for Igors! I shudder to think what it must have been like in the olde dayes, when something as simple as a fractured arm or leg could likely be a death sentence (especially if you were ministered to by ordinary human doctors). Before Doctor Lawn opened the LSFH the only Igors here were servants of mad scientists and madder scions of the nobility, but now most people can afford to be repaired by expatriate Igors in clean and pleasant surroundings. Doctor Lawn is technically still Chief of Surgery, but he's obviously a man of great sensibleness and vision, so he leaves the complicated work to his Uberwaldean staff. I was in and out faster than, shall we say, half of Mrs Palm's regular customers, and happy to pay for the service because I'm a Woman of Means these days. My fretting hand is now better, faster and stronger than it ever was before. And so I sing the praises of Igors, in the old traditional way:

* * *

The only thing is...the Igor who patched me up was a young, recent arrival, still homesick for the Old Country and delighted to see another Ramtopper. After I came to, we got to talking. And talking. And talking. He even dropped the lisp when none of the nurses were around. And the thing is...Llamedese Bards may be able to reduce even strangers to tears when they sing mournful songs about their rainy beloved country, but they have nothing on a homesick Igor waxing lyrical for the thunderstorms of his ancestral mountains and traditional cruel crazed Barons and undead Mathterth. It's had a huge effect on me. It's been over a week now, and all is well, but...but...

Lost Wages calls to me. I think I'll go home.

-- Alice

Note for Roundworlders: the original lyrics for Diamonds are a Girl's Best Friend can be found at http://tinyurl.com/6crkn2

July 2008

2008-07-31T11:09:00.002+10:00

THE NEW DISCWORLD HOROSCOPE
by Fernando Magnifico

Hallo and buongiorno to all my friends! The Lady Asterisk is indisposed this month, for she has been sent home with mice. But do not worry, for I am Fernando Magnifico, and I shall be satisfying all your astrological needs today.

When Fernando first came to the wonderful city of Ankh-Morpork, although Fernando is very well travelled, he was ignorant of the ways of the polite society in this city. (Do not scoff, my readers, for Ankh-Morpork does have polite society. And also less-polite society, and rude society, and the Shades. But we shall not go there.) Fernando remembers very well the time when he met a signoretta who was enormemente con el nino, as we say back in Brindisi. Fernando innocentally asked the signoretta when the bambino was due, and she replied "I'm not pregnant". Fernando was so embarrassed! He did not know where to stick his head, as they say.

How very fortunate for you that, with Fernando's help, you need not fear to be making these embarrassing social faux pas, if you pardon my Quirmian. For this month, the stars will warn you what embarrassing social mistakes you most need to avoid. Also, there is a very unusual alignment of the stars this month, so as well as the usual horoscopes, the stars are in surprising agreement, with a special warning for all peoples of Ankh-Morpork, whether troll or dwarf or human, visitor or citizen. Read on to see what this warning is. Ciao bella!

The Adamant Hedgehog 21 Mar - 20 Apr

Etiquette can be found in the strangest places. When taking part in one of the famous Mended Drum tavern brawls, the stars warn that if you expect to be invited back (and not taken out back and dumped in the Ankh in little pieces), you must remember the etiquette of tavern brawls. Do not reach for an edged weapon too quickly, but start off with chairs and tables. Use of poison arrows is discouraged, unless the poison has amusing effects like Bloat. Hitting the tavern owner or the Igor on hand is an unacceptable liberty. Remember these few simple social rules, and you can be sure that the Igor won't sew your leg back on backwards.

The stars this month also warn Hoggers not to laugh at the Patrician's jokes, as he doesn't make any.

The Half-Eaten Sandwich 21 Apr - 21 May

Munchers must be aware, like Hoggers, that Etiquette occurs in many unexpected places, like the childrens who play the traditional Ankh-Morpork game of dead rat conkers. There are many unwritten rules: it is cheating to stuff the dead rat with lead, overhead swings are considered rude, and many more. And like the bambinos, grande uomos should avoid the faux pas of bad sportsmanship. Cheating at cards, for instance, is considered terribly rude, not to mention foolish. So is kicking sand in your opponent's face on the sports pitch, especially in games of footsball as the accursed Quirmians do. Without good sportsmanship we are nothing - or Quirmian, which is even worse.

Another faux pas you should beware of this month is cutting in front of Assassins in waiting lines. With other people you need fear only looks that could kill. With the Assassins, deadly looks are only the least of your worries. Fernando says it is best to avoid cutting in front of any persons dressed all in black clothing; they could be witches, Dark Clerks, or even the Patrician himself, and none of these are any better than Assassins for your health and life expectancys.

Herne the Hunted 22 May - 21 Jun

This month, Hernians should be especially beware of eating bananas in a way likely to start a riot. This especially holds for signorettas, although Fernando knows very well that sometimes the young men and their bananas can cause mucho excitement.

Another faux pas Hernians should be aware of avoiding is the inappropriate use of nicknames. These are also known in Ankh-Morpork as pet names, and also by the uppity persons as sobriquets, but Fernando despises that word because it is Quirmian and it is bad enough that faux pas is also a Quirmian expression, so enough with the Quirmian, yes? Calling someone by an inappropriate nickname is very bad manners. For example, calling a famous opera singer like Enrico Basilica "Big Bazza" to his face, or addressing the Archchancellor of Unseen University as "Riddy-baby". And never, ever refer to Lady Ramkin as "your Posh Bintness". This is only appropriate coming from her husband the Duke.

The Wizard's Staff and Knob 22 Jun - 22 Jul

Many frogs and newts have got their start in life as a wiseguy asking a wizard to show him a good card trick. This month, the stars warn Staffies that they should be particularly careful not to give in to the temptations and commit this grande faux pas.

Fernando does not believe in being rude to people for their race or species, except for the accursed Quirmians, but many people are less cosmopolitan than Fernando. If you are one of these people, the stars this month warn that some faux pas have the more serious consequences than others. Beware of using the words "lawn ornament" or "duck's bottom" to dwarfs, or the stars say that something very sharp will separate you from your legs.

Bilious, God of Hangovers 23 Jul - 23 Aug

At this time of the year, many people's contract at the Thieves' Guild comes up for renewal. Fortunately for Bilians, this month the stars tell all about the etiquette for dealing with licenced thieves. For a street mugging, it is appropriate to tip 10% of the amount stolen, 15% if with assault and battery. Cut-purses and pick-pockets will expect 5%, and you can pay in stamps. For burglars, correct etiquette is to leave a convenient sack or box by your silverware. Fernando prefers to always leave out a small glass or two of Amaretto or Marsala, for that taste of Brindisi. Failure to remember these little things will lead to the thieves not only taking offence, but everything else as well.

Even if you have a magnificent tenor voice like Fernando, singing along at the opera is a faux pas. This especially is so if, as Bilians are known to do, you have partaken a little too much of the vino and begin singing a song about the coconuts instead.

The Celestial Parsnip 24 Aug - 23 Sept

The stars warn Snippies this month against the Brindisian national hobby, second only to the footsball, namely the pinching of the signorettas on the sedere, how do you say it? The bottom. This warning goes double if the lady in question is a duchess, as Fernando's cousin Tomas found out last week.

The stars also say that Snippies should be careful of being too familiar with any dogs you might find at the Watch. Fernando does not understand this warning, as he often meets with Captain Carrot (a man almost as magnificent as Fernando himself) to discuss the Brindisi Cup, and he sometimes brings a truly magnificent golden-haired signorina wolfhound with him. Fernando has never had any problems from rubbing the lady dog's belly, although Nobby Nobbs falls over laughing and the Sergeant Colon goes as red as Fernando's Uncle Alfonso's red vino.

The Small Boring Group of Faint Stars 24 Sept - 23 Oct

Boring'uns have a talent for memorising the details of long complicated lists, which is good, for this month the stars warn that your faux pas to beware of is from the rules of court. Does a marquis outrank an earl? Who should give way on a narrow bridge, a duke or a cavaleiro? The answers may surprise those not familiar with the intricate rules invented by nobles with no wars to go to. Even the stars are no guide, except to say beware! But do not fear my friends, for Fernando has spent many hours with Ankh-Morpork heralds, and has the answers:

A marquis outranks an earl, unless the earl is from Chimeria, in which case the ranks are reversed;

On a narrow bridge, the duke should give way, but in a doorway, it is the cavaleiro who must;

At dinner, the first slice of beef goes to the Patrician, who by tradition is supposed to fling it at his Fool's head (but alas, our current Patrician has let this fine tradition slip);

Any noble of rank viscount or higher is permitted to slip a small stone or pebble into the left shoe of the second son of a count on Wednesdays and Fridays;

and many others.

While Boring'uns are learning their courtly manners, the stars warn that they should not forget their table manners. Fernando remembers as a young boy being clipped across the ear by his Aunt Maria for making the gas at the dinner table. Boring'uns should learn this lesson well, and remember too that you should always ask others to pass the salt, and not use your wooden leg to hook it like Fernando's Uncle Salvatore.

Androgyna Majestis 24 Oct - 22 Nov

For Andies, the stars this month warn about an exceptional faux pas, perhaps the most serious of all: mutiny or rebellion. Fernando knows that there is never any excuse or rebellion against your liege lord -- unless you win.

In these cosmopolitan times, Andies may find themselfs hosting a dinner party where some of the guests are dwarfs. While dwarfs can happily eat human food, it is especially good manners to serve traditional dwarf fare like rat or dwarf-bread. The dwarf bread will come in very useful if the meal ends with the traditional after-dinner brawl. But remember that if you do choose to serve rat, it is the serious faux pas not to supply ketchup.

The Spoons, a.k.a. the Greater and Lesser Spoons, 23 Nov - 21 Dec

For the Spooners, this is a month to be particularly careful of the faux pas related to beverages. Klatchian coffee should only be drunk from a tiny thimble-sized cup, unless you are tired of sanity; espresso should be drunk strong, hot, and sweet, like Fernando himself; and tea should be drunk from a cup, never from a saucer, although a tin mug is acceptable for Watchmen and on-duty soldiers. Hot cocoa is a drink for the bambinos, unless flavoured with a dash of rum.

This is also the month for Spooners to be particularly careful when dealing with witches. It is good manners to offer witches any old clothes you might still have, if they are well cleaned and mended. Black or the darker purples are best, although some of the younger witches who have read too many books may prefer green. Fernando knows that the witches are very touchy about their honorifics, so if you are unsure whether she is a Granny or Nanny or Mother, it is better to keep quiet and be thought a fool than to open your mouth and be turned into a frog.

Hoki the Jokester 22 Dec - 20 Jan

Hokians should especially be careful about telling jokes to professional joke-tellers, such as the members of the famous Fool's Guild. Many clowns are molto sensitive of the fact that despite the years of training and privation, they are not as funny as untrained civilians, so unless you find crying clowns funny, you should avoid trying to make them laugh. Beware also that some of the more senior Fools have no, how do you say, sense of humour. Some of them are so sensitive that simply starting a sentence with "I say..." or "Did you hear..." is enough to land you a pie in the face -- perhaps with a fist in it.

Supporting Quirm in the Brindisi Cup is a major faux pas for all peoples. Fernando has seen that this is so! This month, the stars say it is an especially serious mistake to make for Hokians. Fernando does not like to frighten his readers, but the stars themselves have cursed the Quirmian footsballers, and they warn that if you support Quirm, your legs are sure to be eaten by pineapples.

[Editor's note: Hokians should perhaps consider getting a second opinion on this particular prediction.]

The Rather Large Gazunda 21 Jan - 18 Feb

Gazundians should be careful not to make a faux pas when shaking hands. It is not done to shake hands with royalty or witches, because it is disrespectful, or Nobby Nobbs, because you might catch something. Ladies should offer their hand to be kissed, and a gentleman's handshake should not be limp like a dead fish. In some of the tougher streets, it is considered bad manners to whimper or cry when your hand is crushed.

The stars also warn against using the wrong cutlery at mealtimes. In Brindisi, it is considered good manners to use the same knife and fork through the entire meal, but Ankh-Morporkians prefer to use different cutlery for each course. But no matter what the rules for cutlery are, eating peas by stabbing them with a stiletto is only good manners if you can throw the knife across the room and hit a fly in the eye.

Lesser Umbrage 19 Feb - 20 Mar

Umbragians are known for their love of technomancy, especially machines that go Bingley Bingley Beep. This month, the stars warn that you should beware of talking too loudly to your Dis-organiser in public. Other people do not want to hear about your doctor's appointment to check out the funny little rash, or need to know that you're buying a dozen oysters from the fishmonger. Trust Fernando on this.

Another faux pas that Umbragians should beware of is the failure to buy a round when it is your turn. This is especially bad in Fourecksian pubs, where feigning sudden deafness when it is your turn to shout can often lead to sudden deathness.

All signs 21 Mar - 20 Mar

This month, the stars have something to say for all people in Ankh-Morpork, regardless of their sign or their social standing, whether knight or beggar, priest or assassin. The stars warn that there is one social faux pas you should beware of, one with the most serious consequences:

Do not use the M word to describe the Unseen University Librarian. The stars have spoken.

June 2008

2008-06-30T20:58:00.001+10:00

THE NEW DISCWORLD HOROSCOPE
by Fernando Magnifico

Hallo and buongiorno my great friends, for it is I, Fernando! The Lady Asterisk is unable to write the horoscopes this month, for she has caught a walrus. But do not fear, for Fernando is here to take on the mission of being your astrologer for today.

This month, the stars have much to say about missions and Causes. Fernando understands all about having a cause that gives you great passion, for Fernando is a very passionate man. When Fernando was a small boy in the short pants, he was passionate about the pressing of lizards. Sometimes he would spend hours in the long grass, looking for a Bearded Gecko or the Headless Iguanas, until Aunt Maria grabbed Fernando by the ear and yelled for him to pay attention. Fernando has now put these childish things behind him, but he is still molto passionate, and he still believes very much in the pressing, only not of lizards.

So this month, let Fernando and the stars guide you to the Causes you should follow. Ciao bella!

The Adamant Hedgehog 21 Mar - 20 Apr

The stars this month say that the Cause to follow for Hoggers is the The Ronald Rust Society For The Introduction Of Slavery For People Without Knighthoods. Fernando, who does not have a knighthood, is very happy to see that the Society is finding it muy difficulto to attract members in Ankh-Morpork, especially after the Patrician sent his special clerks to take notes at a couple of meetings. But the stars have spoken, and Fernando must pass on their message, for that is Fernando's passion. One of his passions. He has many.

The Half-Eaten Sandwich 21 Apr - 21 May

Munchers, your Cause this month is to help the poor people of Klatch get access to the best of Ankh-Morpork medicine. Doctor Archibald Leech tells that the poor Klatchians have no tools for blood-letting, a shortage of goose-grease, and their doctors treat the illnesses with the mould from bread instead of balancing the humours. Fernando feels sympathy for them, and for Munchers who do too, this is your Cause.

Herne the Hunted 22 May - 21 Jun

For the Hernians, your Cause is the preservation of wildlife. Wildlife is important, and there are many ways that you can help preserve the wild animals. You can learn how to pickle, smoke and salt, and how to make jerky. There is also taxidermy, and you may even go to Djelibeybi to learn the ancient art of mummification. Hernians of a magical bent may learn spells to preserve animals by turning them into stone. Fernando is a passionate believer in the preservation of wild life, and also in the preservation of wildlife, so you do well to take this advice.

The Wizard's Staff and Knob 22 Jun - 22 Jul

Staffies will find that the Cause that suits them best this month is the Campaign To Ban Detritus. Fernando has never had need to assist the Watch with their enquiries, but Fernando's cousin Tomas, who has a passion for looking into the ladies' bedrooms, has often been dragged by the ankles back to the Watch house by Detritus. Fernando has asked Signora Evelina Synonymous, the Spokesperson for the Campaign, to comment:

"It is high time the Patrician listens to the will of the people and does something about the menace of Commander Vimes' troll on the streets of Ankh-Morpork. Good law-abiding people fear being killed in their beds if this Detritus creature accidentally shoots his crossbow at the wrong house. Does there have to be a tragedy before Detritus is banned from the streets?"

Bilious, God of Hangovers 23 Jul - 23 Aug

Bilians, your Cause for this month is the Blessed Brutha Save the Tortoise Fund. You don't need to be an Omnian to help save the tortoise from the depredations of the cruel eagles. The Tortoise Fund is always looking for volunteers to rescue the poor little tortoises which have been turned upside down, and to hunt the eagles. If going out into the wilderness is too dangerous for you, right here in Ankh-Morpork there is much work to be done to ban the cruel sports of tortoise-baiting and tortoise fighting, although Fernando understands that going out into the desert without food or water is safer than going into the Shades.

The Celestial Parsnip 24 Aug - 23 Sept

Fernando found confusing nodes in the stars for Snippies this month, so he has spoken to Mr Quentin Kindle, manager of the St Agatha bank, about the Cause. Mr Kindle kindly said,

"Thank you Mr Magnifico, and I must say you are looking more magnificent than ever today with your blue velvet trousers. My colleagues and I at the St Agatha Upon Walll bank, to give it our full name, that's Walll with three L's, thank you, believe that the time is ripe for Ankh-Morpork to reject the Patrician's experiment with the golem standard for monetary policy and return to the oldest and most trustworthy basis for money, the cockleshell standard. Our bank has invested thousands of dollars buying up shoreland all around Ankh-Morpork, and have been stockpiling cockleshells for the inevitable time when the golems stop working and the gold runs out, something we're sure will happen very soon now."

The Small Boring Group of Faint Stars 24 Sept - 23 Oct

Fernando knows that Boring'uns are far too boring to have Causes, and the stars agree: they are almost completely silent this month. Almost silent, but not quite, for the most tiny, feeble star in the constellation alone gives Fernando a single word to pass on to Boring'uns: "cabbage". Whisper it quietly, caras mias.

Androgyna Majestis 24 Oct - 22 Nov

Andies are known for their double-nature and grande contrasting personalities, and this month the stars give Andies a Cause that they can get into in two ways. For your Cause is alcoholic beverages. Whether you are against them, like MADAM, Mothers Against Drink And Merriment, or for them, like the Fancies, who are named from their motto, "a leetle bit of what you fancy does you good", this month you have a Cause you can really get into.

The Spoons, a.k.a. the Greater and Lesser Spoons, 23 Nov - 21 Dec
(formerly the Great T'Phon's Foot)

Fernando cares greatly for the bambinos and the small childrens, and who does not? But sometimes the childrens are their own worse enemy, when they are running wild and not listening to their Mammas and Pappas, like Fernando's nephew Carlito who is always making the mischief in his own way. For Spooners this month, your Cause is to help protect the childrens, and Fernando knows of no better way to save the childrens from themselves than by supporting the King Lorenzo the Kind Memorial Home For Naughty Boys and Girls.

Hoki the Jokester 22 Dec - 20 Jan

Fernando knows that every creature has its part to play in the great web of life; for is it not true that not a sparrow can fall without the Gods betting on whether or not it will hit somebody? And who are we to interfere with the games of the Gods by letting an entire species to become extinct? The Gods would not like this, and you would not like the Gods when they are angry, you might end of sleeping with the whelks. For Hokians, your Cause this month is to save the furry rug slug from extinction. This rare and beautiful creature, part snake, part mammal and known for dropping its legs off at the first sign of danger, is very dear to Fernando's heart. Furry rug slugs deserve to be saved, even if their pelts do make lovely hats. And if they cannot be saved, at the very least Fernando suggests that you get a Hernian friend to preserve one.

The Rather Large Gazunda 21 Jan - 18 Feb

Gazundians, this month the Cause your stars have chosen for you is the famous Campaign to Clean Up Gnolls. Better than any words Fernando could tell you about this are the words of the fearsome signora Contessa von Schutzenfutz, who says,

"It is a disgrace that the Patrician allows these smelly dirty gnolls into the city without so much as a bath. And what do they do with all that garbage they collect, I ask you, hmmm? At the very least, they should be washed and their hair combed. And they're hatless, I say, hatless. They don't wear hats! You can't tell me that's not wrong."

Lesser Umbrage 19 Feb - 20 Mar

Fernando knows very much that without respect, you have nothing. Fernando remembers very well that his Aunt Peppita was being disrespected by her paesano Bruno, and she put the evil eye on him until he changed his disrespectful ways, and the very next day he got drunk on Uncle Rafael's grappa and fell down in the pig sty and the sow sat on him. Again. So respect, it is important, except for the stinking cheese-eating Quirmians and their cheating footsballers, and Fernando feels sympathy for the Ankh-Morpork conjurers when they are given no respect by the wizards. Umbragians, this is your Cause: to work for the wizardry reform and equal consideration for conjurers. But do it with respect, for those stregazza wizards can turn you into a frog.

Clog post 12 with Ankh-Life and Morpork Holiday

2008-06-30T14:41:00.002+10:00

THE CLACKS LOG OF WEIRD ALICE LANCREVIC

Post 12. THE LAND OF BILK AND WAHOONIE

First Clog: "Nine out of ten ain't bad..."

Well...actually, it is.

I've been here for weeks and have hardly seen any of Ankh-Morpork's famous attractions and better-known local colour. And it's not for want of trying. Now that tourism has become popular, or at least has become, there's an old traditional saying about how whatever place or person or local attraction you've come to see will be unseeable nine times out of ten. And in my case, I keep getting all nine times! Here is a list of some of my nine-timeses -- things not seen and Unseen:

Tower of Art; closed for yearly exorcism and raven discipline

Dwarf Bread Museum; closed for seasonal battle bun maintenance

CMOT Dibbler; out of town "on business"

The Golem Trust; closed to the public due to financial issues -- the issues being that Golems are now finance

Pork Futures Warehouse; temporarily closed due to temporal instability

UU Unreal Estate; closed because, apparently, no one can find it at the moment!

The Dysk; closed for renovations

Biers; closed for de-renovations

Mrs Cake's boarding house; no vacancies, no inspections, no reason given

Sunshine Sanctuary for Lost Dragons; closed to visitors when I got there because they were de-coking the pens, but as I was leaving I got a glimpse of a tall, auburn-haired lady who I'm sure was Lady Ramkin herself. I have to say she's much better-looking than people describe her as being. Also, she had a little boy with her, and he was wearing the cutest miniature set of dragon-handling armour!

Patrician's Palace; there's supposed to be a twice-weekly tour of parts of the Palace including the Oblong Office, but all I could find was a bored, surly guard who didn't know anything about Palace tours, and a big sign that read NO ICONOGRAPHS. FOR SECURITY REASONS. BY ORDER OF THE PATRICIAN. I was told not to ask about it, "because a spell in the dungeons may offend."

Some of what I have seen, though, includes:

Goodmountain's Wee-Print; this is the print works that does The Times, and it's absolutely huge! They gave me a good rate on promotional iconographs, too.

The Post Office; gorgeous! It's been restored to its legendary splendour, all gleaming and glowing and crystal-chandeliered. It's also the main Clacks depot now. I had to go there to post some messages on a promise I made to Twoflower, and I also bought some Lancre commemorative stamps that smell enough like real scumble to make me homesick (couldn't really be scumble, of course, or the glue would have dissolved), but I ended up spending hours and hours just watching the Dance of the Queues and the glow of all that lovely polished wood, and marvelling at the way all the hustle-bustle of A-M can't be heard even in such a busy place. Excellent.

The Tump; very big, with lots of old ruins. Gives a good feel of how old A-M really is, more than any other place here. Any other place on the surface, at least...

Woo Hon Ling's Exotica and Martial Arts; Listeria sent me. No, really. It was...educational. Good leatherwear, too.

The Lady Sybil Free Hospital; also on behalf of Listeria. It's probably got the largest Igor population outside of Uberwald. It's also probably the cleanest building in A-M. Very impressive.

Various bridges, including the Disc-famous Brass Bridge, which no-one's stolen yet, and the Misbegot Bridge, which has so many houses on it that it's a wonder it doesn't collapse into the Ankh. Not that it would sink!

Dragon's Landing; this is the new commercial precinct. It's still being developed, or redeveloped, but already many shops and stalls are open for business. They say Dragon's Landing will overtake Sator Square as the main shopping district, but it's further out from city centre and even though the area isn't fully open, the cart jams were dreadful! We got out and walked. Otherwise we might still be there.

The Seamstresses' Guild; well, of course! And it's everything I imagined it would be. Mrs Palm wasn't there, though, because she's on holiday in Sto Lat, but I did get a gig.

The Mended Drum; for the beer. Also for the beer. See below.

I haven't seen hide nor hair of His Grace Sir Samuel Vimes or any of the more famous Watchmen, so I must be living on the right side of the Law. But near Pseudopolis Yard I did see a small man being, um, escorted by two large Watchmen, all the while shouting and whimpering about how he'd stolen the Patrician's Device and sold a dozen missing Golems and tipped noxious chemicals in the Ankh (how could they tell?), so I imagine that must have been Done It Duncan. Oh, and I think I saw Gimlet one night when I went to Yo Rat! for a takeaway, and I've definitely seen a few little yellow men in orange robes, sweeping the streets here and there in unlikely places. Or maybe it's the same little yellow man. I guess one takes one's celebrities where one can find them...

We've been staying at Listeria's, as she promised we could. She has a charming little house in Silver Street, not far from the Seamstresses' Guildhouse, where she lives with her niece Anaglypta and the "trustworthy young lady" whose name is Lucrezia and who hardly says a word but is always there at my elbow when I think I need something; she's quite normal-looking, even pretty in a quiet way, but I swear she has some Igor in her herrydeterryry. They're all lovely people, but I'm still sticking to my policy of not taking tea or meals there, so I've sampled a fair amount of the local cuisine including Harga's famous ribs and fake Klatchian curry from the Klatchian takeaway and less fake Klatchian curry from the Curry Gardens. I've even had smoked rat au jus, and a knuckle sandwich! And Slumpie and Distressed Pudding and other A-M dishes, which taste somewhat different from the ones we had at Twoflower's Barbarian Luck Restaurant..."different" being "awful, by comparison", but at least it's authentic and not poisonous, for a certain value of poisonous.

One of the reasons A-M is even more disrupted than usual is what's known here as The Undertaking, which is some sort of municipal modernising project. Everywhere I go, things are being dug up or torn down or scaffolded or fenced off or signposted; there are roving teams of student wizards, checking for dangerous uncovered pockets of raw magic. And roving teams of archaeologists, checking for interesting middens (how can they tell?). And roving teams of Beggars, tramps and Thieves, checking the gawping distracted crowds for money and other valuables. Not to mention the roving teams of easily-spotted plainclothes Watchmen and roving teams of Watchmen in uniform and roving teams of Times reporters taking notes and speaking to Beings in the Street. The locals love it all, because it gives them something new and exciting to complain about. I want to come back here in, say, ten years or so; I suspect that many things will have changed beyond recognition, to judge from all the modernisation going on now!

Ankh -- the name itself -- amuses me. Funny, isn't it, how the same name applies to the foulest river in creation and also to the poshest part of A-M. It's inspired me to write a song. I call it:

ANKH-LIFE

I sang this in the Mended Drum. And then there was beer. Lots of
beer.

And then there was more beer.

Here endeth this post.

* * *

Second Clog: "Over, under, sideways, and especially, down..."

All in all, A-M has been a bit of a disappointment so far. But there are compensations, see, because I was taken to Morpork Below.

Morpork Below is never where you expect it to be; in fact, it can't be found at all unless it wants you to find it. Some people say it was created during excavations for the Undertaking; some say it was awakened when accidentally uncovered; some say it's been there all the time, and most people say it's not actually there at all. I suspect all of them are right. You see, not everyone can find Morpork Below; you have to be a little bit, well, different to see and be seen by the other Morpork.

Luckily, I was. Am. It's said that Bards and others of artistic persuasions live with one foot in the Netherworld and one foot on Cori Celesti (this is, naturally, one of those mettyfors, because I shudder to think how uncomfortable I'd be if it were literal!), and that's as may be; all I know is that, weaving my way home from the Drum one night, I came across a scruffy injured dwarf in an alleyway and bought him a hot rat and then took him home to fix up his wounds. He told me that his name was Portal and that he had to "go back down, or all is lost." Of course he had to go back down, I said, because dwarfs are underground dwellers, and what kind of name for a dwarf was Portal anyhow? But he'd asked for help and I was intrigued because his armour looked like no dwarf armour I'd ever seen, and even though he said I had to help him stop a war I followed him back to the edge of the Shades. Where he promptly disappeared. Leaving me alone in the Shades...but then I suddenly saw a entranceway that hadn't been there a minute ago, all glowing with a sort of eldritch light (oblong, too, as it happens), so I abandoned caution to the winds -- which are very smelly winds in this part of town -- and went in. And found a whole other world!

There's this amazing palace, much larger than the Patrician's one, that goes on and on and is all huge old columns and arches and ceilings almost too high to see. And an aqueduct with actual water in it! -- that's how I knew we weren't in any A-M of the here and now. Everything looks old in an oddly new way, and everywhere there's that weird light, like vurm-light only brighter. And the Floating Party, which certainly was a party and then some, and sometimes floated (I know I did). I saw species that have supposedly been extinct for centuries, and fashions that definitely have been. It all felt like a dream, even the scary parts, and the war which I did apparently help stop though I've no idea how or why. I spent weeks down there but when I returned to Morpork Above it was on the same morning as when I left. I'd say it was a dream, only there's an amulet that Portal gave me. And a toga. How odd.

Meanwhile, life in the real - or unreal - Morpork is...um...colourful. Yes. Colourful. I wrote a song about that, too:

MORPORK HOLIDAY

* * *

I sang that in the Drum. And then there was beer.

* * *

Cert is spending more and more time at the University. We hardly see each other these days.

* * *

Come to think of it, I don't mind. I'm having a great time.

* * *

I've been offered a permanent, resident Bard-ing gig at the Seamstresses' Guild. Hmm.

* * *

That's all I have time for now. There's a party on, down in the Shades, and I've been invited. It might even be...floating.

-- Alice

Note for Roundworlders: the original lyrics for Dreadlock Holiday can be found at:
http://www.lyricsdomain.com/27/10cc/dreadlock_holiday.html

...and the original lyrics for Parklife can be found at:
http://www.actionext.com/names_b/blur_lyrics/parklife.html

It's worth noting that, as is often the case on the anternet, there are inconsistencies in, um, translation. One person's mondegreen is everyone else's copy-paste, it seems...also, a special note for those unfamiliar with the original Blur song -- in the first line, the word 'habitual' was pronounced as 'bit-chal', so Alice's lyric fits the length of that pronunciation...

We Are Morporkians

2008-05-31T16:01:00.001+10:00

WEIRD ALICE: A LIFE IN ANTHEMS

We have received a clacks to the effect that Weird Alice is far too busy in Ankh-Morpork to update her Clacks Log at the moment. However, she sent us a song that -- she says -- is all the rage there right now. So gather at your nearest stadium, get your air guitars ready, and get your candles out...

WE ARE MORPORKIANS

-- Alice

Note for Roundworlders: in case there's someone, living on a mountaintop somewhere, who doesn't actually know the words to Queen's We Are the Champions, original lyrics can be found at:

http://www.queenwords.com/lyrics/songs/sng11_17.shtml

May 2008

2008-05-31T08:54:00.001+10:00

THE NEW DISCWORLD HOROSCOPE
by Fernando Magnifico

Buongiorno my friends, it is I, Fernando! The Lady Asterisk is indisposed this month, because she has sprained her pinafore when oiling her orrery. But do not be afraid, for Fernando is here to shoulder the great burden of being your astrologer for today. And such a burden it is, for the people of Ankh-Morpork have taken Fernando to their bosoms, and he has been in much demand to provide private services for his readers. The personal horoscopes Fernando writes are the most very excellent, as these testimonials say to me:

Last month, two of the heavenly star signs changed, and this month, there is one more change to happen. Fernando will tell you more about this, but first, Fernando is very excited to tell you that this month the stars all speak about clothing! Fernando knows that clothing is very important, and that the cut of a lady's fichu or a man's bodkin says more about them than mille dolce paroli, or "a thousand words" as they say here in Ankh-Morpork. And so, Fernando has asked the stars to guide him on this molto importante subject, so that he may guide you, my readers, in your fashion choices. Look to the stars, and look to your wardrobes, and the rest will take care of itself as Fernando takes care of his beloved velvet pantaloons. Ciao bella!

The Adamant Hedgehog 21 Mar - 20 Apr

For Hoggers, your item of clothing is the pantaloon. In these exciting modern times, some ladies are experimenting with the wearing of pantaloons, but Fernando prefers the mystery of skirts, for who knows what they might hide from the eyes of the easily excited? Ladies, if you must wear the pantaloons, choose the vast flowing ones of the Aurient, and still you will be mysterious. Gentlemens Hoggers may choose from a wide range of fabrics, from the fine silk of Agatea to the so sturdy broadcloth of Zlobenia. For those special occasions for both mens and ladies, the Street of Cunning Artificers offers a range of interesting leather and rubber pantaloons. Fernando approves of this.

The Half-Eaten Sandwich 21 Apr - 21 May
(formerly Gahoolie, the Vase of Tulips)

This is a good month for Munchers to let their fantastical side free, for the stars say that you should put tastefulness aside and wear the brash, colourful clothes instead. Fernando can suggest casual travel shirts from Bes Pelargic, gold suits like the one worn by the Postmaster General, or for the ladies, pink lace skirts decorated with embroidered smiling cats. Which reminds Fernando, sometime he must tell you about his young-manful experiences as a cat herder on the high desert plains of Brindisi. Such fierce pussies Fernando has never seen before or since, caramba!

Herne the Hunted 22 May - 21 Jun

Hernians should wear the useful working-class undershirt of XXXX, the singlet, sometimes known as "dwarf-beaters" from their popularness among certain troll gangs. Fernando does not wear the singlet because it would hide his magnificent collection of medallions, but he understands from his cousins that there is nothing more attractive to the senoritas than a manly man wearing a singlet. Although when Fernando asked his sister Rosita about this, she only laughed.

The Wizard's Staff and Knob 22 Jun - 22 Jul

This month, Staffies must investigate the wonderful world of footwear. Shoes, sandals, the dhing-dhongs of Bhangbhangduc, the boots of kinky, the boots that are made for walking, even the Disc-famous glass slippers of Genua. The wealthy among you should investigate the bellissima shoes of Brindisian bootmaker Manunu Blanchi; he is bootmaker to the stars, so let the stars choose your bootmaker. Seven league boots are also risky. Fernando tried them once, and had to wait weeks before he could properly admire the ladies again.

Bilious, God of Hangovers 23 Jul - 23 Aug

If you are a Bilian, this month your item of clothing is the skirt. Gentlemen Bilians may prefer to wear the traditional Feegle man-skirt, the kilt as it is called. Ladies of an adventurous nature, and Fernando loves the ladies of adventurous nature, might try the new fashion craze from couturier Minnie of Chirm, known as the Minnie skirt; but only on days when it is not too windy. Lady Golems should wear gingham, and man Golems should wear the man-skirt of the BeTrobi Islands, because sometimes sarong is so right. Fernando must warn you though, the best skirts for the Bilians are those that resist stains and are easily washed.

The Celestial Parsnip 24 Aug - 23 Sept
(formerly Mubbo the Hyena)

Snippies, your clothing feature this month is coats. They say you can tell a person's true quality by the quality of their coat, and the stars agree that They are right. Choose your coat carefully: it should be a thing of great beauty, like Fernando, and also hard-wearing and long-lasting, like Fernando. A good coat, like a good pair of hundred-dollar boots, can last a lifetime, or at least until the capricciosos of fashion say that it is fashionable once again. Fernando once bought his sainted Auntie Maria a full-length coat made of vermine, at great expense naturally. It was far too warm for the lovely Brindisian weather, but she wore it everywhere, and Fernando can tell you that coat earned him a lot of free gnocchi.

The Small Boring Group of Faint Stars 24 Sept - 23 Oct

This month, the clothing for Boring'uns will be socks. Socks are very important clothing, as they keep your toes warm in the cold, and in the summer, they stop your feet from being sunburnt when you wear sandals. And with the mere addition of a half-brick, your sock can become a fearsome weapon capable of leaving buildings standing -- not that any Boring'un would be interested in that.

Androgyna Majestis 24 Oct - 22 Nov

This is a good time for Andies to let their double nature run free, for they have two things this month: the most, and the least, practical clothing materials -- leather and lace. As any dwarf can tell you, leather is hard-wearing, practical, and favoured not only in the mines but no less by many of the young gentlemens who frequent The Leopard's Shorts Club (right across the street from the Pink Pussy Cat Club). Lace is very much the opposite, demure and saintly, except when worn by the senoritas of Brindisi. Oh, the flutter of a lace hanky! It can be a promise of paradise, as Fernando knows. Modern peoples of Morpork, especially the younger ones, can try a combination of leather and lace. Fernando's grandmamma Angelina would not approve, but she is ninety-three and has worn nothing but widow's black for as long as Fernando can remember.

The Spoons, a.k.a. the Greater and Lesser Spoons, 23 Nov - 21 Dec
(formerly Great T'Phon's Foot)

This month, Footies will cease to be under the influence of Great T'Phon's Foot, and come under the influence of the Greater Spoon and the Lesser Spoon, also know known as the Spoons. As a Spooner, you will be under the influence of the Goddess Anoia, so Fernando recommends you rattle your drawers regularly.

Fernando is amused that the item of clothing for Spooners this month is, the drawers! So do not be shamed to be caught outside in your underwear, for this month the very stars say that it is, as the Morporkers say, hokay. And if you do, you may even find somebody to rattle your drawers for you.

Hoki the Jokester 22 Dec - 20 Jan

For Hokians from Uberwald who feel the pang of the home sickness, the stars are kind this month as your item of clothing is the famous lederhosen of Uberwald: you can feel back at home with the short leather breeches chaffing your legs; while the other Hokians can just feel foolish. Or you can also considering the famous shorts of EcksEcksEcksEcks. But Fernando assures you, under no circumstances must you wear the footsball shorts of the Quirmians, may their cheeses turn to horrible green runny things and poison them in their girly Quirmish beds.

The Rather Large Gazunda 21 Jan - 18 Feb

If you are a Gazundian, this month the stars say that hats are your item of clothing. Fernando does not like to confine his magnificently flowing hair under a hat, but many people do like hats. And not just wizards and witches either. Hats are important for bankers, postmen, and anyone who wishes to join a secret society. Whether you choose a vast flowered hat like the ones my colleague the lovely Signora Cake wears, a sparkling top hat, a horned battle helmet, a charming cloche, a cheeky pork pie hat, a firm and manly fedora, or even the hated beret of despicable Quirm, your hat will say much about you to the world. Though in the case of the horned battle helmet, what it says is that you had best be able to fight, because nothing says "I am looking for trouble" quite like a horned battle helmet.

Lesser Umbrage 19 Feb - 20 Mar

Umbragians, your clothing of the month is the veil. For the ladies, you can look mysterious and exotic, like you are still wearing part of your wedding dress. And for the gentlesmen, you too can disguise yourself as a harem girl and break into a Klatchian palace like the great barbarian heroes of old. The most exciting thing about a veil is this: at some time, it will be taken off. Fernando has seen men follow a veiled lady across entire continents hoping for a glimpse of what lies beneath it. Sadly, in the case of many Tsorteans, Ephebians and even, to Fernando's shame, Brindisians, what it often hides is a moustache. But the Disc is a large place and holds peoples of all sorts of opinions and tastes, so for some, the moustache is not a problem.

April 2008

2008-04-30T19:21:00.001+10:00

THE NEW DISCWORLD HOROSCOPE
by Fernando Magnifico

Buongiorno my friends, it is I, Fernando! The Lady Asterisk is indisposed this month, because a swarm of bees have moved into her hair. But do not worry, for I will be your astrologer today.

Last month, I announced that the star signs will be changing! The next few months will be exciting times. The times, they are always exciting for Fernando, but now they will be exciting for everybody else as well. Fernando will tell you more about that later, but first, Fernando is very excited that he has received a letter from one of his readers. Fernando is used to people coming up to him in the street to ask him questions (often that question is "Hey mister, can you spare a few pennies?" or "Are you interested in learning the good news about Om?") but this is his first letter from a reader.

Mrs W. from Unseen University writes:

Fernando believes that it is his duty to always look magnificent for the ladies and the gentlemen who look at him. Fortunately, this is not difficult for Fernando! But even so, it takes Fernando many hours every day to look as good as he does, and many many men are not willing to put in that much hard work. But Fernando will teach you a secret that was taught to him by his dear older sister Rosita. "Fernando," she said, "if you want a man to pay more attention to himself, start by complimenting him on whatever you want them to fix." (But of course she said that in Brindisian, in which it sounds much more beautiful, like Rosita herself). So if you want your employers to groom their beards, or at least remove the crumbs and food scraps from them, you should compliment them on what manly, thick beards they have, and how magnificent they would look with the occasional combing. Fernando does not grow his beard, but he brushes his hair twice a day, to remove the knots and also the small biting animals that Ankh-Morpork has in such abundance.

The Adamant Hedgehog 21 Mar - 20 Apr

If you are a Hogger, the stars say that this is a good month for building an Empire. Fernando is a man of peace, but he remembers sitting at his grandfather's knees and listing to the stirring tales of ancient Brindisi, when men like the Emperor Julius Aurelius Ramone Cannelloni III carved out an empire reaching to the mountains of Uberwald and the famous ports of Ghat. If you too have an army of ten million men, you can also conquer the surrounding cities and tribes and become Emperor. Just don't let the Patrician find out about your plans.

The Half-Eaten Sandwich 21 Apr - 21 May
(formerly Gahoolie, the Vase of Tulips)

This is the first of the signs which are changing this month. Those of you formerly known as Gahooligans will find the next few weeks will be a time of change as you leave the influence of Gahoolie while coming under the influence of the Half-Eaten Sandwich. How fortunate for you Munchers, as you are now known, that this month both signs agree in their influence: Cobblers! For the first half of the month, the stars favour a career as a cobbler, shoe-maker or booterer. This is good news for Munchers who are already shoe-makers, like Fernando's uncle Giovanni, but for those who aren't, just wait and towards the end of the month the Half-Eaten Sandwich's influence will take over and you will find yourself having cravings for cobblers: apple cobblers, peach cobblers, and if you are a lady who is making the little bambinos, bacon and Wahoonie cobblers.

Herne the Hunted 22 May - 21 Jun

For Hernians, the stars reveal this month that it is a good time to further your education. Perhaps you would like to learn another language, like Fernando whose tongue is very talented and speaks many languages fluently? Or you wish to learn the natural philosophy? When Fernando was a young man, still innocent to the ways of the world, he would go on long walks through the countryside with Sophia the baker's daughter, and we would pick flowers and study the birds and the bees and the natural philosophy. Or perhaps you want to study the stars at the feet of the Lady Asterisk, as Fernando has done? Or even become the expert on heraldry, and help the Dragon King of Arms with his project to rebuild the city's records after the fire some years ago. All these things you can do this month. The stars have spoken!

The Wizard's Staff and Knob 22 Jun - 22 Jul

For Staffies, this month the stars predict the crash of bricks, clouds of cement dust and the squelch of mortar being slapped with a trowel: this is a good month for bricklayers. For the next few weeks, the stars say you should not fear dropping a load of bricks on your foot, or having a bag of cement burst next to you, or having your apprentice drop your lunch into the mortar, or the mortar into your lunch. Carry your hod with pride, for the stars smile upon you.

Bilious, God of Hangovers 23 Jul - 23 Aug

This month, the stars say that this is a good time for those born under Bilious to become a henchman or henchwoman. There is no shortage of Dark Lords, crime bosses, mad doctors who can't get the Igor, fanatical priests and mothers of would-be prima ballerinas who need a henchman or ten to do their dirty work. Somebody has to do it, and no self-respecting Dark Lord would be caught dead dragging the Hero to a horrible death in his dungeons himself if he can afford to have a minion do so.

(If you are looking for a boss, Fernando knows a man who knows a man who knows a dwarf who knows a man who can put you in touch with the barber who cuts the hair of the brother of the capo of the Purple Hand society.)

The Celestial Parsnip 24 Aug - 23 Sept
(formerly Mubbo the Hyena)

The Parsnip has returned! Long ago, deep in the mists of time [it was actually a little more than four years ago -- Ed.], the Celestial Parsnip ruled the horoscopes of those who today are under the sign of Hoki the Jokester. But Great A'Tuin moves, and the Parsnip gave way as Hoki the Jokester moved into its place. Great A'Tuin continues to swim through the icy depths of space, and the Parsnip has come back into position -- but four signs earlier in the year, ruling over those who used to be ruled by Mubbo. Confused? Do not fear, for Fernando has checked his sums, and if you were a Mubboon, now you are a Snippy!

(Fernando sneers at Roundworld astrologers, who pay no attention to the change of position of the stars as their world moves. Fernando does not approve of such sloppiness, and is sure that no good will come from it.)

The parsnip is a humorous vegetable, the punchline of many jokes which Fernando is much too polite to repeat, and many a quiet bachelor or spinster has been known to purchase more parsnips than any stew-for-one could possibly contain. As a Snippy, formerly a Mubboon, you may find unfamiliar thoughts and feelings, and may entertain certain private speculations about parsnips and perhaps even other root vegetables. Do not be concerned! Fernando can tell you, these thoughts and feelings are only natural, especially in Spring, for the Celestial Parsnip rules the glands, especially the glands concerned with the romance.

The Small Boring Group of Faint Stars 24 Sept - 23 Oct

Last month, the stars were cruel to Boring'uns, and predicted the exciting career as a technomage. If you have managed to avoid being transported into the Dungeon Dimensions or the Wrong Trousers of Time, Fernando has good news for you! For the stars this month are kind and considerate, like Fernando himself, and favour a career as junior clerk, third grade, where the most exciting thing that you can expect is to catalogue the catalogues. And if the Lady smiles upon you, you can look forward to many years of being overlooked for promotions.

Androgyna Majestis 24 Oct - 22 Nov

Fernando is saddened that many people can never be more than a pale shadow of his magnificence. Fernando, as well as being humble, is compassionate towards those who suffer under the burden of not being Fernando. This month, Fernando also feels compassion for Andies, for the stars will not be kind. Andies can expect a month of stubbed toes, spilt milk, sausages-inna-bun from Mr C.M.O.T. Dibbler, Feegles in the drinks cabinet, and visits from Omnians bearing pamphlets. But do not worry, for this too shall come to pass, and you can comfort yourself with the thought that at this difficult time Fernando sends his sympathy.

Great T'Phon's Foot 23 Nov - 21 Dec

Do you want to live an exciting life beyond city and the law, living by your wits, with every man's hand turned against you? Then you are very fortunate, for this month the stars recommend that Footies like yourself take on the exciting and dangerous, but very rewarding, career of chicken rustling. Out on the Octarine Grass Country, chicken-farmers from Quirm and Pseudopolis raise vast herds of Old Morporkian Bantams, Brindisian Leghorns, Klatchian Game Fowl and Burpingtons. Fernando feels sorry for the Pseudopolitans, but the Quirmians and their cheating footsballers do not deserve chickens.

Hoki the Jokester 22 Dec - 20 Jan

Hokians are known for their mischievous sense of humour, and the stars say that this month will be a good time to let your imagination run wild with the practical jokes, japes and gags. But Fernando must warn you: there are many people who do not appreciate the Ankh-Morporkian idea of a good joke, like the burning bag of dog-doings on the front step, putting salt in the sugar jar, stink bombs, or gluing a cat inside somebody's hat. So be imaginative, be safe, and especially be far away when you are found out.

The Rather Large Gazunda 21 Jan - 18 Feb

Every day Fernando gets many letters from kind Morporkian business men telling him that he can make money fast. Fernando is very grateful for their offers, but Fernando's needs are simple and he is already making enough to pay the bills, and a little extra to send home to Mamma, may the Gods smile upon her. But for Gazundians, this month the stars say that you too can make money fast, as much as you want, for the stars recommend you take up a career as a banker. All you need is a charter from the Patrician, a large expensive building made of marble, and a top hat, and you too can have a licence to make as much money as you want.

Lesser Umbrage 19 Feb - 20 Mar

Fernando wishes to make love, not war, but Fernando is also a realist and knows that there is always a war or revolution happening somewhere. This month, war is good news for Umbragians, because the stars say you should take up arms dealing. Igors may also sell legs. If you are especially keen, you should consider travelling to faraway lands and whipping up some new business. Just stay out of Brindisi.

A NOTE FROM FERNANDO:

Next month: one more sign will change! But do not fear, for Fernando will guide you through these tumultuous times! Ciao bella!

Clog post 11 with Rock Melee

2008-04-30T12:16:00.001+10:00

THE CLACKS LOG OF WEIRD ALICE LANCREVIC

Post 11. THE GANG'S ALL HERE...NOT

First Clog: "Despatches from the front and sides..."

Greetings from Pseudopolis! Well, from the suburbs of Pseudopolis. All right, the suburb. Though the city is growing fast these days, they say. Of course, I've never been here before, but it's not what I'd call a megalopolis, so there's plenty of room for growth. Nowhere near as sleepy and boring as Quirm though! We spent a few weeks there after I got back to myself, as it were, but Cert thought that moving on would be a good idea and he was right. I found it very strange, being in a place I'd been in for most of my life but never been to before; everything was familiar -- too familiar -- and yet all different. No Oolstacky Fried Albatross, for a start. No underground resistance fighters either...just everyday life and the semi-invisible hand of Ankh-Morpork's renowned commercial empire in every shop and market. Also, the place is full of tourists. And buskers. Some of them singing my songs!

The last time I saw A-M, the other A-M, it was just starting to rise again, phoenix-like, from the post-RPI ruins. I definitely want to go back (if spending a few heart-stopping minutes dashing in and out of doors in Empirical Crescent counts as going there in the first place) and see it as it's always been in this reality, but as we were relatively close to Pseudopolis, that's where our resumed journey took us first. Pseudopolis has always seemed like a place where people are from rather than of, and no Pseudopolitans I've ever met were at all keen on going back. So here we are, and there's what amounts to an undeclared festival going on in the city: a busking competition and a Thud tournament, plus all manner of Olde Folkwayes activities -- yes, that includes Morris dancing. We're staying at The Plains Hostel, an inn about four miles from the city walls, because it's cheap...the trouble with falling back through a magical rift in the multiverse is that you can't take it (any "it") with you, especially not money! Cert was odd-jobbing in Quirm while he waited for me, a spell here and a potion there, but we're now fairly hand-to-mouth and I don't like relying on him anyway. Luckily, there's a branch of Goatberger's in Pseud, so I should be able to get some royalties Clacksed through there.

Speaking of the Clacks, I have news from the old travelling gang! A number of messages got forwarded to Quirm while I was "away". It seems quite a lot has happened to my erstwhile companions since we parted company, and since the recent drop in C-mail rates means people no longer have to abbreviate and leave out little things like punctuation, no translation is required. I've had my imp copy them across into this post. There's one from Listeria Curtsey...

My dear girl, I hope this finds you in good health and good voice. I had a simply fascinating time in Genua. How the days flew by! So many exquisite poisons, so little time. But as I promised, I have "made it" to Ankh-Morpork and all is well. My cousin made good on her promise of lodgings, and thanks to my dear niece Anaglypta I have a trustworthy young lady to help me with my little items of specialised shopping. So very much to do, my days are quite full and I'm quite the "busy bee", as they say. I have a small teaching position at that ancient institution of learning, the Assassins' Guild, and another part-time position teaching at that institution of ancient learning, the Seamstresses' Guild. I seem to be ever so popular with the young men and young ladies of both! Who would have ever thought they would have so much interest in a maiden lady of the "old school", eh? I seem to have stumbled upon a little "side line" as well, making potions for some of my young charges. I do hope your young man won't be jealous!

Do drop by when your travels take you here, as I know Ankh-Morpork is on your itinerary. I look forward to having another "warble" with you, my dear, and I am sure you and I have much to talk about. Oh, and if you happen across any samples of Krullian Nightshade or Widow's Friend, please do drop me a line. This may be the Disc's leading centre of commerce, but some essentials are in mysteriously short supply!

All the best, your friend,
Listeria Curtsey (Miss)
curtsey1@creativecookery.AM

...and one from Elena:

Darling Aliyushka -- or should I perhaps say dahlink Alice? -- for I do not think you recognise me without the accent! But yes, it is I, Elena Lassinova, still alive and still on the run. My family have unowned me with the greater vigour, so now I stay with yennork underground and with others sympathetic to my cause. The cause I am hoping did not give you too much of inconvenience when the villagers with their pitchforks and the reactionaries among my race arrived, yes? I believe in having the choices when it comes to females and the bodies, and I am thinking you do also. I am sending many rousing pamphlets to the young of werekind, also with the slogans, "Raise your paw for free choice!" and "Litter-sisters, you are more than just a puppy farm!", and hoping of success even though some say I am just the uppity bitch.

I miss you and am thinking with fondnesses of our happy times together. If you reply to me at this Clacks office, someone will forward to me the message. But I must go now. I can smell the scent of burning pitch coming nearer. Take care, Aliyushka, and thank you for the biscuits.

Elena x x x
actimorph@LitterLess

...and some fascinating news from Mr Kakhand and Semolina back home:

Hello Alice, I hope you're keeping well. Your harp is untouched in the storeroom of the Loser. Much activity here in Lost Wages since you left, I think your songbooks and your famous Clacks log have something to do with that, a lot of people are asking for you and I don't think you owe any of them money. Maybe when you get back you still wouldn't mind taking a booking or two for old times sake. I've refurbished the inn and several other things of interest happened, but not that interesting really. Well, that's about all, I'm not much for writing things down apart from bulk beer orders.

Yrs trly,
Z. Kakhand
loser@lost_wages

Alice sweetheart, Papa probably hasn't told you because he's not much for writing things down apart from bulk beer orders, but LW is absolutely hopping now! That's right, LW is returning to its former glory, and Papa has a piece of the action! He's reopened the old casino across from the Loser and it's like a licence to mint pennies. Not that I'm lacking in pennies these days, life at the Seamstresses' Guild suits me just fine. I think Papa is a bit cross because I hardly ever have time to help him behind the bar now, but really, having a Guild house here is a lot of the reason why customers are flocking in. As I told him, after they come to me and come they come to him. I don't think he gets the joke, but we're all girls together so I know you do. Oh, and he's grumbling about me not getting married and making babies, it's always "but who will take over the Loser after I'm gone?" Not that I wanted to anyhow. What I have my eye on now is the top job, one day I want to be "Mrs K" and I don't need a husband for that kind of Mrs! But for all Papa grumbling, he misses you lots. Don't forget to C-mail us when you're coming back, the girls and I will throw you the best party ever! Hope you're having fun and meeting lots of juicy lads. Best wishes, dearie! p.s. how good is my C-name? "Odalisque" is Quirmish, I think, or maybe Brindisian, but it doesn't half sound exotic, beats Semolina the Barmaid hands down!

Semolina o_O
odalisque@NegotiableAffection.org

...and a very surprising one from, of all people, Rudney Urch. For an obnoxious 14-year-old nerd we gave to the Litigian bandits as a slave, he's been rather enterprising:

The Urch is back! Haha. I bet you thought you'd never hear from me again? Well, you were wrong! I am now an INTERNATIONAL SOURCE OF INFORMATION ON ALL THINGS and I am AWESOME. Not even 16 yet and a TYCOON! You might want to check out the Ask Rudney network. I might even give you a discount, haha again.

So how, do you ask (and it won't even cost you), did I escape from the bandits when you lot voted to leave me with them? Well, I didn't. I walked away a free Urch. After I taught them about the campaigns of Tacticus and the Brindisian hill clans' tribute system and how to build better weaponry, they were so successful that King Hans offered to adopt me as his heir! But I decided to make my own way in the world so I took a bag of gold instead (I learned some things myself, as a bandit slave) and went to A-M and contacted Carlton/Winton/Emery (the GNU) and we worked out a new way to speed-clacks packets of information and now I am RICH. So all that time I spent indoors with my nose in a book made me ALL WIN, haha.

Anyway, no hard feelings, haha, and I even hope you're having a good time and haven't done anything stupid like getting captured by pirates or getting lost on the Counterweight Continent! If you are ever in A-M look me up. I'm the first big mansion on the left in Scoone Avenue. And remember, ASK RUDNEY!

Be cool,
The Urch
rudney@ask_rudney

...while Mr Num, unsurprisingly, hasn't changed much at all:

Sister Alice, I hope this message finds you hale and whole and that you have opened your heart to the Word of Om. After many travails among the heathens of Circadia who heeded me not and were as the harsh grains of desert sand beneath the tender hooves of blessed St Bobby, I have moved on to carry on my ministry in the holy land of Omnia itself. For I was sore vexed with the unheeding, and as Holy Ossory himself said, "Woe unto him who raises his hand unto his brother, dealing with him as unto an Infidel" (Ossory, Precepts XI, verse 16), and though indeed we be all brothers I found great difficulty.

Here in Omnia there are many confusing interpretations of the Word of Om. But yea, it is not for me to judge, for that is the province of Om :"We are judged in life as we are in death" (Ossory III, chapter VI, verse 56). So I shall continue, even unto death when I shall be judged.

Yours in the Word,
Versus Num
brother_num@onetruefaith.OM

...and not forgetting the Verdants -- Lothar, Tessica, Athelred and
Rumbustia -- who sound as if they're getting on well down in Genua:

Greetings, Mlle Lancrevic! Life in Genua has been kind to our little enterprise... yes, we are doing very well for ourselves... expanded our little haberdashery shop & Tess has gone into the fashion business...our Zom-B-Cool line of casual wear for the modern Genuan is all the rage... Athelred is doing well for himself, may well be marrying into the local gentry... this climate encourages one to let down one's hair and unbutton one's collar, but there is far too much to do.. if you are interested in our new spring catalogue, let me know by return mail, it is a bargain at AM$1 plus postage... yours sincerely...

Lothar and Tessica Verdant, proprietors
fashion4u@merchants.Gen

Hey babe, you OK these days? I bet you want to hear all about me. I've got my foot well under the table here. Ella, that's the Baroness, has a smashing circle of friends. I'm getting a lion's share of posh nookie, no surprise there really. Sling me a line and we'll do lunch. Got to fly now, more admirers, you know how it is, 'k? Ta-ta for now.

Stay loose,
Ath
hotparts@nobs.Gen

Hiya Hot Licks! What goes? I guess you know by now that I'm a fully qualified lady of the night, and what with brother dearest bunging all that gentrified trade my way, I'm often as not a lady of the knight too. Know what I like about Genua? All these hot men, and I get paid for it! What's not to like? I heard you got captured by pirates -- come on, you can tell me, were they sexy ones? Did they ravish you? Nothing like a good ravish to get the blood flowing -- and did you ever make it to Agatea? I hear those Auriental men can do things our men don't even know how to dream of. Oh, and Genua has some hot ladies too, and the other night there was this booking that -- well, I don't know if I can tell you because the Clacks lines might catch fire if I did! And to think I'd always been told that being a Seamstress was hard work. Maybe other girls don't have their minds at the right level, hey?

Don't forget to write and make it juicy! That's all for now, I've got some leather and chains to oil and Mrs LeClerc wants to go over my roster to see if there's any customers I can give away to the other girls because I'm getting the most work. Oh well, it can't all be fun and games.

Miss you much,
Rustie
unfettered.unless.otherwise.desired@NegotiableAffection.org

So our original party of nine have seen some interesting times, that's for sure. When I answer these, I think I'll skip over the whole lived-and-died-in-another-world thing and just stick with the parts of my travels that were less...complicated.

Suppertime soon. There's music on at the inn tonight and I've been asked to do a turn, but I don't think I'm quite ready to go back to Barding just yet. It's...complicated.

Here endeth this post.

* * *

Second Clog: "As I walk though the Valley..."

Went to the Thud tournament yesterday. Amazing stuff. No so much the game itself, which seems to be a cross between a sort of chess with extra added violence and the old standbys Cities at War and I'm Tacticus, but the players...! Growing up in the mountains as I did, I never thought I'd see the day when dwarfs and trolls would gather together non-violently under one roof (or in this case, one marquee tent in the city square), or ever hear dwarfs speaking Trollish and trolls speaking Dwarfish. And so many players. There were dozens of tables -- it was an early allcomers' round -- manned, or I suppose, personned or beinged by all the major two-legged species, even a couple of gnolls...there were trolls and vampires swapping sunscreen recipes -- lots of handshakings without axes or clubs involved...simply amazing. Things have truly changed since the revelation of the Secret of Koom Valley, and it makes this mountain girl proud to see it happening in her own lifetime...

There was also beer, naturally. Lots of beer. Dwarf beer and troll beer and Pseudopolitan beer and imported genuine Ankh-water beer and even faux Blutwein for the Black Ribboners. But -- another surprise -- the players were only drinking sparingly, to keep their wits sharp I imagine. So plenty of "battles" but no fights, no belligerent singing of contentious anthems, no thrown axes...hey, I remember some "friendly" games of I'm Tacticus back at the Sore Loser that were far less civilised ("friendly" meaning "more insults with every round of drinks consumed"), ending in punch-ups and wrecked furniture, and those players were nearly all from the same species! Not to mention some games of Cripple Mr Onion where the crippling part got taken rather literally. Mind you, there was plenty of competitive spirit in the Thud tournament itself. The audience, supporters and insolent bystanders, did go for some rowdier egging-on, but the organisers had the sense to station armed dwarfs and trolls around the perimeter so nothing got out of hand. I bought a t-shirt (KOOM VALLEY ANNUAL TOURNEY: EVERYTHING BUT THE BLOOD) from a trollish trader called Shave-Me-Own-Lichen-Off Dolomite, and stuck around for a few hours just watching. Thud is a slow game! But a group behind the main tent were playing Speed Thud, so I did get to see a few complete matches. Real Thudmeisters and other serious players don't think much of Speed Thud because they say it's for poseurs and lacks elegance; there was more quaffing and less silence though, so it makes for a better spectator sport...

Back in the main tent, there was a stir when two of the most famous Thudmeisters, Haakon Hammerslinger and Big Topaz, arrived to watch the round. There were cheers from the main supporters' groups -- the Shaftproppers, as they're known, and the Luglarrs -- and did I mention the friendly insults? It's amazing to see and hear dwarfs and trolls cheerfully throwing around epithets at each other, the sort that any one of once could have started a full-scale species war, and doing it with affectionate grins (hard to see through the dwarf beards, but there's no mistaking the flash of a full set of diamond troll teeth). Haakon had a club taller than he was, Topaz was wearing a dwarf battle-axe on a chain around his, well, where his neck would be if he had one, and they were buying each other rounds and encouraging the players in very strong language indeed. Priceless.

* * *

I ended up doing a gig last night after all. But not at the inn -- at the tournament! I'd somehow got to talking with Haakon, and it turned out that some of the players recognised me from that beery night at the mine propping convention in Burnt Hedge and others recognised me from that wild night in DownTown, so I got introduced to everybeing who was anybeing there and later in the evening I sang for hours and then backed Haakon and Topaz as they sang a memorable duet I'd helped them write:

Me with the dwarf bread, kickin' ev'ry troll's head
Axe swingin' high and a whole lotta street cred
Wave your axe if you do follow Tak
Are we digging? - dwarfs, they can!
I throw (dwarfs!)
You shove (trolls!)
Mister Shine, him diamond
I've got the Kruk, gonna show a lot o' hole
Say, "Mister Shine, him diamond!"

I'm a knee-level shyster, just call me Thudmeister
Ev'ry move, ev'ry play
King Rhys, can you hear me?
Wukwuk "rocks", do you fear me?
I feel lucky today

I don't wanna "rock" melee
But I'm such a success at Thud
It ain't gonna stop today
I'm a dwarf and I'm out for blood!

Shakin' down a rockface, groovin' like a Slab case
Ice-cold head, just call me "hard place"
Got a coolin' helmet, I'll be nicely bright
So when I block the flight
Me box you tight (Right!)
You can't think tough? Then you're with the wrong side
See, Koom is just a valley
If you can't make a shove but your best trolls tried
Say, "Koom is just a valley!"

I'm der champion species, capturin' pieces
My Gahanka is loud
Kzad-bhat, can you hear me
Diamond King, are you near me
See me doin' you proud

I don't wanna Kruk doomsday
But you makin' me raise der fuss
You can say "Gr'duzk" all day
But your piece all belong to us!

Thud play ain't simple --
Some shortarse wimp'll sneak up and smite

Thud rules ain't simple
But when you're feelin' it, feelin' it, feelin' it

Play all night!

I don't wanna "rock" melee
But I'm such a success at Thud
It ain't gonna stop today
I'm a dwarf and I'm out for blood!

I don't wanna Kruk doomsday
But you makin' me raise der fuss
You can say "Gr'duzk" all day
But your piece all belong to us!

...and so on. And as we finally ground and thumped and twanged to a stop:

* * *

And then there was beer.

* * *

Tomorrow, Ankh-Morpork. I've already done the world...

-- Alice

Note for Roundworlders: the original lyrics for Rock DJ can be found at
http://www.lyricsfreak.com/r/robbie+williams/rock+dj_20116791.html

Clog post 10 with The Reaper, Lilith

2008-03-31T19:56:00.001+11:00

THE CLACKS LOG OF WEIRD ALICE LANCREVIC

Post 10. WITH A SONG IN MY HEART, UM, IMP

This is going to be a very short post, due to my having some technomancy issues with my new Gooseberry Mk IX PDA (that's a Personalised Demonicommunication Activator, in case anyone forgot). Until I can get my imp to do anything but take down songs, I'll have to hold the news and stick to the music. Even this paragraph will be short, because singing words with no rhythm is HARD!

So he-eeere aaaarrrre a cou-ple of neeeewwww songgggsss...

THE REAPER

On a warm summer's midnight
In the small town of Sheepridge
I met up with the Reaper
An apprentice he did seek
Then he stopped Time a-movin'
Interviewed me in the darkness
Ill portents overtook me
When he began to speak

He said, MORT, I'VE SPENT MY 'LIFE'
SEEING FEAR ON PEOPLE'S FACES
KNOWING WHAT THEIR FATES WERE
BY THE PLAY OF FALLING SAND
NOW, DO YOU HEAR BINKY NEIGHING?
SOON WE'LL LEAD HIM THROUGH HIS PACES
THOUGH THE JOB'S RATHER RISKY
I'LL OFFER YOU MY HAND.

So I gathered all my bottle
Even though my heart was hollow
Then I jumped on Binky's back
And cantered through the sky
And my Boss got Death-ly quiet
Then made this bold confession:
IF YOU MEAN TO LEARN MY TRADE, BOY
YOU'VE GOT TO LEARN TO SWING A SCYTHE

YOU'VE GOT TO KNOW HOW TO SCRY THEM
KNOW WHEN TO SCYTHE 'EM
KNOW HOW TO STALK AWAY
KNOW WHEN YOU'VE WON
YOU NEVER COUNT YOUR HARVEST
WHEN YOU'RE SHOVELLING THE STABLES
THERE'LL BE TIME ENOUGH FOR DOUBTING
WHEN THE DUTY'S DONE.

Every Reaper knows
Those seekers of survival
Who, hoping they can find a way
Try hiding - futilely
'Cause every saint and sinner's
A future coffin-user
And the best they can hope for
Is that THERE'S ONLY ME.

And when he finished teaching
He turned back to the Duty
Scratched out a cancelled Node
And rode off to collect
And somewhere in the darkness
Another bod stopped breathing
But in His leaden words
I found a job that I'd respect

YOU'VE GOT TO KNOW WHEN TO FREE THEM
KNOW WHEN TO LEAD 'EM
KNOW HOW TO WALK THROUGH WALLS
KNOW EVERYONE
YOU NEVER READ LIFE STORIES
WHEN YOU'RE SAT AT ALBERT'S TABLE
THERE'LL TIME ENOUGH FOR QUESTIONS
WHEN THE DUTY'S DONE

YOU'VE GOT TO KNOW WHEN TO SCARE 'EM
KNOW WHEN TO SPARE 'EM
KNOW HOW TO TALK THIS WAY
KNOW IT'S NOT 'FUN'
DON'T EVER COURT MY DAUGHTER
WHEN YOUR CLOAK OF NIGHT'S ENABLED
THERE'LL BE TIME ENOUGH FOR COURTING
WHEN THE DUTY'S DONE.

* * *

LILITH

It's close to midnight
And something evil's lurking in his pond
Under the moonlight
You see two snakes transformed to "belles du monde"
You start to scream
But that's against the city regulations
You start to freeze
As mirror magic takes you by surprise
You're Lilith-ised

'Cause this is Lilith - Lilith, right?!
And no-one's gonna save you from my mirror magic might
'Cause this is Lilith, Lilith - right!
You're frightened for your life because the mirror's
Killing
Tonight!

You see those dark eyes
And realise you'll have to wear that gown
You feel that cold hand
And twig the Duc's a frog who wants a crown
Your coach has mice
Your would-be rescue shows imagination
Though Magrat's nice
You see the future creeping up too fast
In shoes of glass

'Cause this is Lilith - Lilith, right?
You'll never stand a chance against the Narrative tonight
You know I'm Lilith, cold as ice
You're frightened for your life because the mirror's
Willing
To fight!

Old stories call
And no sister of mine can can unwind the tale
There's no escaping the forced Happy Ending, not this time
Your fate is mine
You'll be a pond-dweller's wife...

No-one abets you
Your fairy godmum's wetter than a hen
Duc will undress you
It's just a matter now of where and when
You're out of time
And Mrs Gogol's gris-gris can't assist you
Tonight's the night
No matter what those biddies say to you
You'll say 'I do"

For this is Lilith...Lilith? - right!
See, I control you more than Lancre's best would dare to try
I'm Lady Lilith, proud and bright
So let me hold you tight
And make the mirror
Clearer
Nearer
Lilith rules tonight!

Darkness falls across the Disc
The fated wedding? - can't touch this!
Creatures crawl, a Zombie stomp
To terrorise your local swamp
And whosoever fails to grin
Will find my patience wearing thin
Just stand aside, you're in my town
Or splat! - I cannot be brought down!
The finest folks are at the Ball
The funky Zombies heed my call
And even Nanny's trusty broom
And Magrat's wand won't stay your doom

And those who fight on Esme's side
Your very souls be undone
For no mere mortal can resist:
See, I know I'm The Good One!

-- Aaaa-lice

Note for Roundworlders:

Original lyrics for The Gambler can be found at
http://www.cowboylyrics.com/lyrics/rogers-kenny/the-gambler-8525.html
or http://tinyurl.com/9cw8c

Original lyrics for Michael Jackson's Thriller can be found at:
http://www.lyricsondemand.com/m/michaeljacksonlyrics/thrillerlyrics.html
or http://tinyurl.com/5cuyr

March 2008

2008-03-31T08:39:00.001+11:00

THE NEW DISCWORLD HOROSCOPE
by Fernando Magnifico

Buongiorno to my good friends! The Lady Asterisk is unavailable this month, for she is suffering with the stomach cramps from eating too many strawberries. But do not worry, for it is I, Fernando Magnifico, and I shall be your astrologer today.

When Fernando journeyed to Ankh-Morpork from his little village on the sunny slopes of Brindisi, Fernando visited many places and saw many things. In Lancre, Fernando was fortunate to see the (in)famous Witch Trials, and the bellissima donna Mistress Weatherwax, whose fame has reached Brindisi. From Mistress Weatherwax, Fernando learned many things about the magic, and from Mrs Ogg, Fernando learned ... many other things, which Fernando will not speak of, except to say that Mrs Ogg's scumble reminds Fernando of Uncle Rafael and his grappa. The witches, they do not like to teach their craft to men, and the wizards of Ankh-Morpork do not share their secrets, but Fernando is very persuasive, and where persuasion fails, Fernando can learn from afar, for he has the eyes of a hawk, the ears of an owl, and the memory of a mouse! So this month, Fernando has cast your horoscope to learn what the stars have to say about the mystic occult arts - magic!

The Adamant Hedgehog 21 Mar - 20 Apr

The stars suggest that Hoggers consider becoming hedge wizards. Fernando is a great lover of the unspoilt wilderness, so long as it is not spoilt by dragons, wolves, snow, forest fires, brigands, bears, wild trolls, dwarf war parties, hungry gnolls, elves, rogue cheeses, druids or pineapples. Hedge wizardry is a very good job, nice outdoor work in the sunshine and fresh air with no heavy lifting. The trees sometimes answer back but rarely argue, and there is only a little topiary.

Gahoolie, the Vase of Tulips 21 Apr - 21 May

Deep in the jungles of Klatch, the witch-doctors make dark and terrible magics, and do strange and mysterious rituals with the citrus fruits and coconuts. The stars say that this is a good month for you too to learn the secrets of shrinking heads, cursing your enemies, transforming into a hyena, and raising the dead. But do not fear, for Fernando reads carefully the collected adventures of Howondaland Smith, transcribed each week in the A-M Times Octeday supplement by Mr CMOT Dibbler, and I am sure that there is nothing that can go wrong. You just need the right herbs and powders, and a few spells, and perhaps one or two sacrifices. I am sure the Howondaland gods will accept a goat or a sheep instead of a beautiful Morporkian maiden -- and as Fernando has learned since coming to the city, there are very few maidens over the age of sixteen in Morpork.

Herne the Hunted 22 May - 21 Jun

This month is a bad month for mirror magic. Fernando has a magic mirror -- whenever he looks in it, he sees an incredibly handsome man looking back at him! Ha ha! Mirror magic is bad every month, but this month it is particularly bad, with the stars warning Hernians to stick to simple protection spells, good luck charms, and magic to find the items which are lost. Especially the items which are lost, like Fernando's favourite gold medallion, which Fernando is sure he did not leave down the back of a lady's couch.

The Wizard's Staff and Knob 22 Jun - 22 Jul

Magic brings life to many fine creatures, like the trolls and centaurs and dryads, but every magic has it's opposite, and there is also magic in and from death, the terrible dark magic: necromancy, or post-vital communications as the wizards call it today. But the stars do not forget the old ways, and necromancy is not just for talking to the dead: the dead can walk, and there is death-force as well as life-force. Fernando does not like to dwell on such matters, for Fernando prefers to make new life, not death, but the stars say that this is a good month for the dark arts of necromancy. Staffies with their own shovel who are not afraid of the consequences will find power and profit in the necromancy. Beware though of mobs with pitchforks and flaming torches.

Bilious, God of Hangovers 23 Jul - 23 Aug

The art of oenomancy, wine magic, was first discovered in Brindisi's Seven Hills long ago, and today Brindisians are famous for their skill at turning water into wine, bad wine into less-bad wine, and in the case of Fernando's cousin Tony, a single bottle of fine Brindisi red into three quarts of the yellow water. Fernando doesn't know how he does it. For Bilians, this month will be a good month to become an oenomancerist.

Mubbo the Hyena 24 Aug - 23 Sept

Fernando is always very successful in the romance, but not everybody can be as fortunate as Fernando. It is sad but true that some people cannot find true love. If you are a Mubboon suffering in this way, the stars have good news for you: the signs are good for love spells this month, especially those that call on Vyagreh, the god of disappointed swains. It may not be true love, but it is cheaper than hiring love by the hour. Fernando knows this well.

The Small Boring Group of Faint Stars 24 Sept - 23 Oct

Sometimes the Gods laugh at Men, even at Fernando, and this month they laugh at Boring'uns. Why else would Boring'uns, who want nothing more than a quiet, uneventful life, be fated to have a magical career in the exciting and cutting edge area of thaumology, or technomancy? (Not to be confused with thaumaturgy, a very different and rather low-paying branch of magic. Fernando hears that this causes much confusion during enrolments at the Unseen University.) You can push back the boundaries of reality, split the thaum, send yourself down the wrong leg of the Trousers of Time, and experiment with new and exciting ways to destroy the Disc.

Fernando does not approve of destroying the Disc, and hopes Boring'uns will simply avoid magic altogether, and grow cabbages instead. Or figs. Fernando approves of fig trees, especially the leaves.

Androgyna Majestis 24 Oct - 22 Nov

Androgyna Majestis is the seven-plus-oneth sign of the Zodiac, and so it is no surprise that Andies are often the eighth son of an eighth son, or a sourceror. For you, there is nothing you cannot do, even more so than Fernando, for the sourceror is the source for calling the raw magic into the world.

But what of those who are not the eighth son of a wizard? Never fear, the stars say that for you, there is always the Conjurer's Guild, meetings on Tuesday and Friday nights, tea and biscuits provided. For the gentlemen, cards and rope will be provided. Ladies please bring your own spangly tights.

Great T'Phon's Foot 23 Nov - 21 Dec

Fernando has learned from Mistress Weatherwax that there is much magic in your head. The gods themselves rise and fall according to belief in the people's heads, do they not? Witches get much power from this belief, the power of headology. Footies, Fernando knows, are born headologists, so this month is a good time to practice your headology, perhaps on your bank manager.

Fernando also knows that there is a dark side to the headology. This is the sort of headology practised by those dishonourable pigs known as Quirmian footsballers, for how else could they ever win any footsball match? Pah! Fernando does not recommend this sort of headology, no, especially if you are a Quirmian Footy footsballer.

Hoki the Jokester 22 Dec - 20 Jan

The stars say this is the month for weather magic for fun and profit. Keeping rain away from high-society garden parties is an obvious way to make money from your weather spells. But Hokians are as interested in fun as profit, and weather spells offer unlimited opportunity for mischief. A sudden cold snap, a patch of icy ground, a fat man carrying a cake... what Hokian could resist the opportunity to laugh themselves silly at another person's misfortune? Fernando never laughs at others' bad luck, but Fernando also does not judge others who do.

The Rather Large Gazunda 21 Jan - 18 Feb

Fernando knows that magic can be used for both good and evil. Sometimes the same spell can be used for both, depending on circumstances. The same weather spell calling in rain can be good or evil depending on whether the recipient's house is on fire or they've just taken the thatch down off the roof to replace it. This month, Gazundians who take up magic will be faced with that choice of doing good or evil, for the stars say that this is the month for both healing spells and curses. But who is to say that curses are always evil? There are some Quirmian footsballers who need cursing until their legs fall off.

Lesser Umbrage 19 Feb - 20 Mar

This month, according to the stars, is good for making magic objects. Umbragians who are good with working metal can make magic swords. Do not let the sword eat your soul. If you wish to have somebody teach the sword to sing, Fernando can help, for he has an excellent singing voice, and Brindisian songs are so very romantic. "Quando la luna colpisce il vostro occhio come una torta grande, quella e molto dolorosa!"

If the magic swords are not for you, perhaps you could try for magic rings. Or if you can get the sapient pearwood, you could make the wizard's staffs. If you find out why they have a knob on the end, please let Fernando know, for he is very curious.

Ladies and gentlemen, Fernando has an announcement!

The stars, they are not fixed in the sky as Great A'Tuin swims through the great void, and the star signs do not remain constant. Fernando has checked his charts, and over the next few months there will be some new star signs! But do not fear, for if the lovely Lady Asterisk happens to be indisposed again, Fernando will be here to guide you through this period of change. Ciao!

February 2008

2008-02-29T23:02:00.001+11:00

THE NEW DISCWORLD HOROSCOPE

by Fernando Magnifico

Hallo, my friends! It is I, Fernando, here to be your astrologer today. The Lady Asterisk has come down with an attack of the daisies and cannot work, but Fernando is always ready to help!

When Fernando first came to Ankh-Morpork from Brindisi, he was overwhelmed by the magnificence of such a great city and by the bellissimo parade of different cultures; the foods, the entertainments, the fashions, arts and people. Especially the lady people. Now Fernando is only whelmed, but there is always something new to experience, and Fernando is nothing if not ready to be experienced. Fernando believes that all persons should experience as much as possible and learn to become an "all-rounder", as they say here, and I, Fernando, am now an all-rounder, though certainly not as all round as the famous Enrico Basilico.

The best way to become experienced is to follow your stars, for they point the way to a lifetime of new ideas. So come with Fernando now, my friends, and let him show you the way to a life of excitement. Ciao bella!

The Adamant Hedgehog 21 Mar - 20 Apr

This month is a good month for Hoggers and cats. Fernando loves all animals, except for pineapples ever since his belovered Uncle Nino (mayherestinnapeace) was killed by a stampede of pineapples, but he especially loves cats. Tiny little kittens, big fat smelly toms, fluffy white cats, old dribbling pussies, even that cat with the big boots that lives at number 7 The Backs. So Fernando is very pleased that the stars say that this month is good for Hoggers to be kind to cats. Here, pussy, pussy! Fernando waits for you!

Gahoolie, the Vase of Tulips 21 Apr - 21 May

Gahooligans, if you have every wanted to try extreme sports, this is the most excellent month to start! The stars say that you will be successful at Rimseiling, which is like the abseiling only wetter, but just as good for your abs, so now is the time to book your passage to the island of Zark, near distant Farferee. The island overhangs the Rim, and is home to giants and enormous rodents with big feet. The natives race each other to climb down the Rim as fast as possible. The bravest, fastest Rimseilers go all the way to the bottom of the Rim, and carve their initials into the underside of the Disc. Fernando predicts that you Gahooligans will carve many notches there, just as Fernando has carved many notches elsewhere.

Herne the Hunted 22 May - 21 Jun

Hernians, are you bored of your homes? Does your wallpaper not excite you in the way that Fernando excites your imaginations? If so, this is a good month for you to consider interior decorating. The stars tell Fernando that this is a good time to consider rearranging the furniture, changing the carpets, repainting the walls, and replacing the entire kitchen. And if that sounds like too much work, Fernando has a cousin who can do this for you, best quality materials very cheap.

The Wizard's Staff and Knob 22 Jun - 22 Jul

For you Staffies, the stars say that this is the month to test your mettle and find out what you are made of. Armed with nothing but a chair, a whip, and your courage, are you brave enough to practice the art of parrot-taming? Fernando has studied under the great parrot-tamers. Fernando's life has been filled with great days, but the greatest day of all was the day Fernando entered the cage with neither chair nor whip. If you can face down a cage full of Fourecksian galahs and Hubland Blues, then you can face anything, even creatures from the Dungeon Dimensions, or the Mrs Whitlow.

Bilious, God of Hangovers 23 Jul - 23 Aug

Sometimes the stars' advice is subtle and surprising, like Fernando. But for Bilians, this month is not one of those times, for this month, the stars say "Wine!". Fernando is not one for sarcasm, but if he was, he would say "Bilians drinking wine? Who would have guessed?" So if you have been a beer or ale drinker, now would be the month to move up the social ladder by drinking wine. Fernando recommends a good Brindisian red, especially a '95 from Snarkinia. Avoid Fourecksian table wines, for no aftershave is strong enough to cover their smell, not even Fernando's.

Mubbo the Hyena 24 Aug - 23 Sept

As the delightful Signora Cosmopilite says, "What goes around comes around", and this is a good month for Mubboons to listen to her wisdom. The stars say that this is a good month for charitable works, so you should drop a few pennies in the next beggar's bowl you pass, or hand on a few of your less-badly worn old clothes to The Spiteful Sisters of Sek's House of Widows and Orphans. Fernando is always generous to those less fortunate than he, because anybody who is not Fernando is less fortunate, and Fernando's reward is to be fortunate to be Fernando! If you are generous with your charitable works, you too will surely benefit from the generosity and charity of others -- perhaps you will even be fortunate enough to be visited by Fernando.

The Small Boring Group of Faint Stars 24 Sept - 23 Oct

Boring'uns, this is a month for cheese! Fernando enjoys strong cheese, like a Brindisi aged Parmigiana or a Lancre Blue, but not the awful tasteless things those cursed Quirmians make, may their footsballers get eaten by sheep. Boring'uns may prefer a bland Chalk Cheddar, or if you are feeling especially brave, a Zlobenian Mild farmhouse, but whatever cheese you prefer, this is the month for eating lots of it. Fernando recommends you also include figs, so you will not be frightened by your bottom.

Androgyna Majestis 24 Oct - 22 Nov

Andies are famous for their parties. Mme Cupidor once held a garden party which went on for forty-three days, and fellow Andie Mme Hania, whose custard-and-jelly parties were the scandal of Olde Ankh society, lost favour with the king when three generals and two foreign ambassadors drowned in a vat of custard. Fernando prefers an intimate little tat-o-tat for three, but whatever sort of party you prefer, the stars say this is the month to party hard. After your festival of retribution last month, that Fernando so accurately predicted, you will have to spend less on party invitations, but now you really do know who your friends are.

Great T'Phon's Foot 23 Nov - 21 Dec

The stars say that this is a good month for Footies to cultivate the finer artistic sensibilities by taking up one of the fine arts. Fernando also has a sensitive, artistic side, and he can often be found helping the young signorinas and signores practice their art. Fernando is available to model for painters and sculptors, and has his own ferret and fig-leaf. Have I mentioned this before? It is a very impressive fig-leaf.

Hoki the Jokester 22 Dec - 20 Jan

This month is a good month for Hokians to read books. Books contain much that is very educational, and as a young boy Fernando learned many wonderful things from Lady Venturi's "Travels In The Dark Hinterland". But Fernando understands that not everybody has been fortunate enough to have a good education like Fernando, whose sainted mamma scrubbed floors and worked her fingers to the bone to send him to school so he could learn his letters and become the great astrologer you see before you now. For those who can, this is a good month for reading, and for those who cannot, there is always "130 Days of Pseudopolis", with its wonderful and very educational illustrations.

The Rather Large Gazunda 21 Jan - 18 Feb

Sometimes the stars predict unpleasantness, and for Gazundians, this month will contain unpleasantness in the form of burglary. Fernando does not condone the breaking and entering, unless you are fully licenced by the Thieves' Guild, so we shall not speak of how you might commit that burglary yourself. Gazundians who are not themselves burglars should consider buying better locks or getting a watch dog or dragon, or making sure they are fully paid up with the Guild.

Lesser Umbrage 19 Feb - 20 Mar

This month, Umbragians should get out into the fresh air for the stars have said that the signs are good for animal husbandry. Fernando is now the expert Morporkian speaker, but when he was still learning the language, he thought animal husbandry meant the sort of the behaviour that back in Brindisi only happens in the more isolated villages. But do not worry, Umbragians, the stars are talking about herding the beasts. If you are born under the sign of the Lesser Umbrage, this is a good month for herding camels, shearing sheep, or wrangling horses. But do not make the attempt at the herding of cats. Fernando says, leave that to the Hoggers.

Clog post 9 with Pathway To Paradise

2008-02-29T11:08:00.001+11:00

THE CLACKS LOG OF WEIRD ALICE LANCREVIC

Post 9. TALES OF THE VERY UNEXPECTED

First Clog: "In another other country"

So, I got married. And I'm a grandmother.

Trust me, I'm as shocked as you are. But I've had years to get used to it. Years and years and years. And even though I have a chance to live my life over again now, I'm not the same person I might have been. The future is going to be interesting this time... again...

It's a long story. Fifty years long, in fact. When Cert said I'd been "trapped in an alternate Quirm for weeks", it had already been several years for me!

It started when I woke up just before dawn in the middle of the famous Floral Clock of Quirm. The last I knew I'd been looking for Cert when we got separated after getting lost on the road from Sum Dim and ending up in progressively weirder gnarly ground left over from the ancient Mage Wars. One moment strange creepy trees and sudden dark mist, the next lying on a bed of Scarlet Cockcrow that tickled because the flowers were trying to open under me. The area was deserted, so I crawled out of the clock -- with the sort of headache you get after a night of scumble -- and took stock of my surroundings. I was sure that it was Quirm, because I've seen iconographs of it and the buildings had that quaint but boring look that you'd expect in what's famous for being a quaint but boring city-state (also, the floral clock was something of a giveaway), but I had no idea why it was Quirm. Agatea to Quirm is a lot of miles and I'm pretty sure B.S. Johnson never visited Sum Dim. Still, there wasn't much I could do about it, so I had a wander around to check out the town before people started waking up. Mostly, I was looking for a cafe; Quirm is famous for its open-air cafes, and it had been a long time and a lot of geography since I'd last eaten. A number of premises had something odd on their signs: RPI LICENCED or RPI APPROVED (in Quirmish, but I can speak that). I wondered what it meant, but thought no more of it because I had other things on my mind...

When the first cafe opened, I ordered breakfast -- and got my first surprise. I had to pay in advance! After all I'd heard about Quirm's boring politeness and toleration of tourism, this was unexpected. I still had a half-rhinu on me though, so that was no problem...except that it was. I got very suspicious looks from the landlord, very suspicious looks, and ended up having to spin a tale about it being an old family heirloom I'd taken for luck on my travels. He wasn't happy about the word "travels", either, but he took my money and gave me fairly generous change based on it being made of "or". The food was uninspired, not that I cared at this point, and afterwards I decided to go around the inns when they opened, looking for a gig, and to look for a Clacks office so I could send word to Bhangbhangduc in case Cert had made it there. This was where I got my second surprise. Set of surprises. The Clacks office was the first to open -- and they asked me for identification! You can imagine my surprise. The only place I've ever known that goes in for personal identification papers is the Agatean Empire, and these days there's not even much of that. I made another excuse about having left it at my hotel, got more suspicious looks, and left in a hurry to regroup.

Things got stranger after that.

WEIRD ALICE, LOST IN SOME QUIRM OR OTHER

Going on the plan of get gig first, then find lute to gig with, I stopped at the first likely inn. It was called The Pride of Oolskunrahod, which also rang no bells with me - all I knew of Oolskunrahod was that it was some tiny place in the Hubland mountains, not too far from the foothills of Cori Celesti and neither remarkable in any way or known to possess anything to be proud of. The place was empty, even for that hour, and the landlord was waving a cloth unenthusiastically around the bar top. The conversation went something like this:

I beat an even hastier retreat than I had from the Clacks office, and retired to a quiet park to think. Of course there's nothing in A-M for decent folk -- that's half its appeal -- but what were Porkians? And why did I need official robes and a lightning bolt (whatever that meant) to play music? And what was RPI? And where were all the tourists? After thinking for a while and getting nowhere much, I found the local library and spent the afternoon reading history books.

That was when I started to get very, very worried. I'd never known Quirm as such, but this wasn't the Quirm I'd never known. In fact, this wasn't the world I knew! Everything looked and sounded pretty much the same, same flora and fauna, same sky, same bone-deep knowledge that this was my own world and that Great A'Tuin was swimming along cosmically somewhere far below us, but something was deeply, disturbingly different. I came to the horrible inescapable conclusion that some hole in the multiverse, deep in that gnarly ground, had opened up and thrown me into an alternate Disc. Here was the bad news, in short: the continent of my birth was under the yoke of a mad theocratic dictatorship that had never existed on my Disc.

There, back in my own reality, Oolskunrahod was and still is an unregarded dot on our Mapps; here, it's the once-unregarded dot that gave birth to a warlike theocracy with grand dreams of empire that came true when the RPI, otherwise known as the Republic of the Provenance of Io, took its proximity to Dunmanifestin seriously and declared Ionism the One True Religion and came boiling out of the Hubland wastes with bad theology and bad food and fanatical armies that conquered pretty much everything they could reach. I was currently in the Satrapy of Quirm, and Ankh-Morpork wasn't the great, teeming, throbbing hub of international commerce and culture...no, it was mostly a smoking ruin, home to downtrodden peasantry (all right, not much change there, but the downtrodden peasantry of my A-M aren't living under armed guard and taken away to unspeakable prison camps for the least excuse) and not a lot else apart from a small and eternally endangered anti-RPI revolutionary movement known as the Porkians.

I was a long way from home, in a foreign country in a foreign universe and barred from my normal means of making a living. And it was obvious that there was only one thing for me to do. I was going to have to contact the Underground.

Memories are making me thirsty, so here endeth this post.

* * *

Second Clog: "Going underground"

It took me a long time to accept that what was happening was real and not a bad dream that I'd wake up from any time now (then?). Even many years later, in over-there time, I'd wake up sure I was in my own bed in Lost Wages after a good session at The Sore Loser, and then face the day with a quiet scream when I realised that Lost Wages here had long since been flattened by the RPI and replaced with Ionist temples and OolsTacky Fried Albatross franchises...

Anyway, I got on with it and soon found a small circle of Porkian sympathisers who kitted me up with local money and identity papers (Allys ap Gwynwynllyth from the least populated part of Llamedos, a general drudge and not a Bard at alll) and got me a job in the kitchen of an inn where the owner was happy to look the other way every time certain small groups met in his cellar. And they also found me a sympathetic wizard. I'd long since realised that there was no point trying to use the Clacks because there was no-one to receive any messages apart from RPI Security Provosts, but Marquescal le Wizarde experimented on my behalf, tinkering with necromancy spells in the hope that I could somehow contact "my" young wizard in my own universe. We tried every week for years before I gave up. At least I know that a couple of messages got through! But since I knew of no way to get back, eventually I stopped trying to communicate.

The world I was apparently going to have to spend the rest of my life in was a drearier place than my own familiar one, but it could have been worse. At least Other Quirm, as I thought of it, was mostly as boring as Real Quirm. The Dowager Duchess had given in to the invaders very politely and converted the country to Ionism, so there were almost none of the burnings and executions and destruction that marked the fall of most other nations. Quirmians, for the most part, took to all the new regulations with good grace. They never were much for travelling anyway, so they carried on with their winemaking and their cheesemaking and their other rural pursuits. They even accepted the dreadful Fried Albatross franchises without too much complaint -- OFA meals being compulsory by law after Octeday temple services -- although hardly anyone buys from there when they're not forced to.

I stayed out of trouble; being in another reality was trouble enough. I never stopped writing songs though, and I would practise and play on a borrowed contraband lute down in the cellars of the inn. Then after a few years, new Porkian agitators started to arrive under cover of night, and trouble found me anyway.

* * *

I'd like to say that the next fifty or so years passed quickly, but they didn't. I'm not going to give you a blow-by-blow description here though, not least because I've got a life to live over again and I want to get back to it! So here's the short form:

There was a rebellion. I was part of it. It took over twenty years, but we won. Somewhere, in a faraway universe, I'm a Hero of the Revolution. Isn't that nice?

And the slightly less short form:

One thing led to another, and I became a protest singer. And slogan writer. And sometime agitator. And sometime field operative. And ended up on the run, hiding in haystacks, travelling by night, living off the land and on what we could scrounge from sympathetic farmers...which was mostly cheese.Don't talk to me about cheese! It will be a while before I can look a Lancre Runny in the face again, and as for Quirmian cheeses...let's just not go there. There's only so much cheese one person can bear, and I've had a lifetime's worth. Literally.

When the Famous Five (don't ask) went on their suicide mission to the Hub to assassinate the mad Priest-President of the Republic of the Provenance of Io, my songs were on their lips. I got a medal for that -- one of the first struck in the rebuilt foundries of New Ankh.

Protest songs being big among the Porkian cadres, I'm proud to say that some of mine became quietly famous during my years there. Here's one of their favourites. I based it on a well-known and well-hated Music with Rocks In song from my own world. The lyrics are a kind of code: when you sing them backwards, they contain dangerous revolutionary messages. Yay me.

PATHWAY TO PARADISE...NOT

There's a lady who's sure all that Dwarfs love is gold
And she's buying a small farm in Hergen
And when she gets there she knows
That some bits are no-go
Like the Wyrmberg and fabled Chimeria

Oh oh oh oh oh
And she's buying a small farm in Hergen

There's a sign on the wall but she's not very tall
And she knows Quirmish thrives on misreadings
On a skull by a book there's a bird with black wings
Sometimes all Deaths of Rats need a raven

Woohhh oh oh oh
And she's trying a cafe in Hergen

There's a feeling of skank when you walk on the Ankh
And your sinuses cry out for freedom
In my thoughts I have seen shades of pure octarine
And the vices of Nanny Ogg's cooking

Woe woe, oh oh ohh
And she's frying a moray in Hergen

And it's whispered that soon
(Say, in Ick, Grune or Spune)
That the rat-piper plays until Hogswatch
And a new day brings crones, and shy standing-stones
And the forest will echo with small gods

And they make some blunders
Oh, and they'll make some blunders

If there's a scuffle in your hedgerow
Don't call the Watch, now
It's just a wizard on a spring-clean
Yes, there are two paths you can go by
But take the long one:
You'll avoid uncharted unicorns

And you won't get sundered
Oh, and you won't get sundered

Your head is thumping and it might blow
In case you don't know -
That's what you get for scumble-bingeing
Weird Lords and Ladies love the cold snow
And you should know:
Don't think of kissing the Wintersmith!

Oh oh, cold snow...

And as you wind on down the track
Procrastinator on your back
There walks a Duck Man, going 'quack'
Who begs all night and wants to know
Why mud's still tastier than gold
And if you lie still, patiently
Tooth Fairy comes with 50p
When all are Dwarfs, and you've got hole
"To be a rock" means you're a Troll...

...and she's buying a small claim in Hergen...

* * *

Pubs are open! Back soon.

* * *

Third Clog: "Bringing it all back home"

Right, this will be even shorter, because I'm getting emotional. Also tired and emotional. Fifty years is a lot of living, and it's going to take me a long, long time to write it all down. It's fading anyhow, becoming more like a dream, and perhaps that's as it should be...

After the assassination, things started to get more normal, for my own version of normal at any rate. I settled down, married a fellow revolutionary, and yes, we did buy that farm in Hergen. I went back to working as a Bard, in between having our daughters and mucking out our pigs, and I never ate cheese again. And that was that. No more excitement, no more travel to distant lands. I could have gone back to Lancre but it wouldn't have felt right, and that had never been my own Lancre. Some people can go home again, despite what they say, but I wasn't one of them.

And now I have my life back. In the body I left. Which is the same age as it was when I left it. Strangely enough, I'm not sure if I want to go home -- now that I have a home to go to again -- or continue on my Grand Sneer. Cert's being very good and very patient with me, and he says that he's happy with whatever I decide, though he'd like to visit his child in Bes Pelargic some day.

We're going to toss a coin. I won't be dedicating the toss to Io.

Here endeth this post, too.

* * *

So, how did I get back after all that? Simple. I died.

No, I don't understand it either.

It's good to be back.

-- Alice

Note for Roundworlders: the original lyrics for Stairway to Heaven can be found at:
http://www.lyricsandsongs.com/song/19123.html

...not that they make any more sense than Alice's...

Life In Quirm

2008-01-31T15:04:00.001+11:00

THE CLACKS LOG OF CERTAINTY NIBLICK

Well. The good news is that I'm back in my own body again -- or my own body is back to itself again -- whatever -- and that I've found Alice's trail. Or at least an indication of Alice's trail. We've managed to reach each other through a variation of Postvital Communications, and I've discovered that she's in an alternate universe and has been trapped in an alternate Quirm for weeks now. This is her report, in song of course.

We'll see each other again. I'm working on it.

LIFE IN QUIRM

Note for Roundworlders:
original lyrics can be found at:
http://lyricwiki.org/David_Bowie:Life_On_Mars

January 2008

2008-01-31T12:49:00.000+11:00

THE NEW DISCWORLD HOROSCOPE

by Fernando Magnifico

Editor's note: it is with great trepidation that we introduce a new astrologer for this month's issue. Lady Anaemia Asterisk sent us a note a few days ago, begging off from the Horoscope for this month, but promising to have her "very talented, oh so very talented" apprentice prepare it.

FERNANDO TAKES YOU TO THE STARS

Hallo and buongiorno! The Lady Asterisk is indisposed this month, she is suffering from the Hogswatch exhaustion. But do not worry! It is I, Fernando, who is here, and I will be your astrologer today.

People ask me, "Fernando, how do I become a magnificent lover like you? I am but a pale, lukewarm-blooded Morporkian without a single drop of your hot Brindisian blood. Is it hopeless?" I laugh at them, but not cruelly, because Fernando is never cruel. Unless you want him to be, and then Fernando will be merciless. I laugh at them because it is not true that all Brindisians are magnificent lovers like Fernando. To be like Fernando, you must know everything there is to know about your lovers, not just their names. And so Fernando has come across the Disc to Ankh-Morpork, all the way from Brindisi, to learn astrology, for what else can tell you so much about a person but the stars?

For many weeks I have studied the art of astrology at the magnificent feet of the very beautiful and sexy Lady Asterisk. Fernando has been like a slave to Lady Asterisk, and has suffered to learn his art. But now that his Lady is too exhausted to cast the horoscope for you, Fernando is ready to shoulder the burden. Do not worry, Fernando has never failed yet!

The Adamant Hedgehog 21 Mar - 20 Apr

If you are a Hogger, this is a good month for you to make such magnificent music and song! You listen to Fernando and learn to play the ancient beloved lute of sleepy Veranda and sing the aria from "L'uomo della cucina". Come desidero ho mangiato una salsiccia con questi fagioli!!! Which is Brindisian for "How I wish I had a sausage with these beans", but do not worry, it is very romantic when you sing it.

Gahoolie, the Vase of Tulips 21 Apr - 21 May

If you are born under Gahoolie, this will be a good month for making passionate love. If you do not have anyone to make passionate love with, do not worry, for Fernando can help you no matter who you are. Fernando is very open minded. Many species make passionate love, and Fernando will always be there to help.

Herne the Hunted 22 May - 21 Jun

Herne the Hunted is the sign of parts. You know, the manly parts and the ladyly parts, and for trolls, the rocky parts. Fernando does not like to be rude and speak of them directly, except in the boudoir, but you know the parts I mean. This is a good month for Hernians who are wishing to make many magnificent babies with their parts, so you must remember to take part.

The Wizard's Staff and Knob 22 Jun - 22 Jul

Fernando knows that life is not all play, sometimes you must swim the furthest ocean and climb the highest mountain to find a token of your love. Fortunately, Fernando is not afraid of hard work, and if you are a Staffie, you too should not be afraid of hard work. This is the month for you to work hard, and like Fernando, you shall have great success at all you attempt.

Bilious, God of Hangovers 23 Jul - 23 Aug

If you have every dreamed of being a famous artist, this is the ideal month for you to make great art. Whether you are the late beginner like Grandma Marmoset or the early genius like Leonardo da Quirm, this month you must make love to your canvas, so to speak. And if you need a model, Fernando has his own figleaf.

Mubbo the Hyena 24 Aug - 23 Sept

If you are a Mubboon, this will be a good month for adding to your jewellery collection. Fernando suggests that Zoon gold jewellery never is out of place. For women, rings on every finger. Do not be tempted to use brass or silver! Nothing but gold will do. The gem is not important, diamonds or Ankhstones, it does not matter, so long as the ring is at least 11ct gold. With earrings, the bigger the hoop the better. For men, choose tasteful plain gold rings half an inch or so in width. Do not overdo it with a ring on every finger: more than three rings on each hand is just being ostentatious. If you are looking for an outlet for your artistic side, Fernando suggests gold medallions on chains. You can never have too many medallions.

The Small Boring Group of Faint Stars 24 Sept - 23 Oct

For you Boring'uns, this is a month for washing your hair. The Boring'uns, they say to Fernando "My hair is so greasy and lank, how do I make it as thick and long like Fernando's?". I tell them, you should wash it three times with well water, but do not forget to strain the newts out first. Then condition with egg yolks and kumquat, and you too shall have hair as sensual and dark as Fernando's.

Androgyna Majestis 24 Oct - 22 Nov

Fernando is friend to all, but most people are not so fortunate to be Fernando. They have enemies, betrayers and adversaries. If you have had your honour insulted, this is your month for vengeance! Let your enemies weep, and their enemies celebrate. Fernando does not like to talk of such unpleasantness, but the stars have spoken -- this is the month for Andies and retribution.

Great T'Phon's Foot 23 Nov - 21 Dec

If you Footies tend your garden this month, you will be sure to have great success, like Fernando's Uncle Enzo. How magnificent are Uncle Enzo's tomatoes and melanzane! Fernando remembers as a small boy sneaking into Uncle Enzo's garden and stuffing himself sick on figs. This is a good month for your garden, especially the zucchinis and the garlic.

Hoki the Jokester 22 Dec - 20 Jan

For Hokians, this month is an excellent month for coach racing. If you have every wanted to "spark iron" on the cobblestones with high-speed coach driving, this is your month to start. Fernando's life is already very much exciting, but many people are not so fortunate, and for them the thrill of being a "straw head" brings joy to their lives. For Hokians this month, Fernando can recommend the Linguini Diavolo with the red leather seats, go-faster stripes and two Klatchian Thoroughlybred horses.

The Rather Large Gazunda 21 Jan - 18 Feb

This is be a good month for Gazundians to remember their mammas! Your mamma is the most important person. You should listen to Fernando, who writes to his sainted Mamma every day, and goes home to see her on her birthday and at Hogswatch.

Lesser Umbrage 19 Feb - 20 Mar

Footsball! The greatest game of all, and if you are born under the sign of the Lesser Umbrage, this will be a good month for footsball. Like Captain Carrot of the City Watch would say -- and he is a man nearly as magnificent as Fernando -- every month is a good month for footsball, but this month will be especially favourable for Umbragians and Brindisians: the magnificent Rail Juvenilis Footsball Club will be taking on the accursed Quirmian Fromageophages for the Brindisi Cup. Go Juvenilis!

Hoggerwatchy

2007-12-31T13:57:00.000+11:00

THE CLACKS LOG OF...CERTAINTY NIBLICK

Cert here, posting on behalf of Alice, wherever and whatever she is. As you can see, I managed to make it out of the Mage Wars wastes. Took a while to get functional-shaped again. Actually, I'm not me-shaped again yet, but I can hold a pen in my beak so it could be worse. I'm not good with writing, much, but I did find some copies of Alice's songs and poems and one of them is appropriate to the season so I'm posting it here. Wishing you all a happy Hogswatch and wishing myself the good fortune to stop being a parrot. Then again, I'm going to carry on trying to find Alice, so being able to fly without a carpet has a sort of advantage. Wish me luck.

HOGGERWATCHY

Twas Hogswatch, and the savvy youths
Did slyly grin as sleep they feigned
All tinselled were the icy roofs
And the Hogfather reigned

'Beware the pig-shaped choccy buns!
'The drunken fights, the booze'd collapse!
'Beware the lemon curd, and shun
'Voluminous brandy-snaps!'

We took our chunder-cures in hand
Pork rinds and sausage pie we bought
Then rested we as the clock struck three
And had a wily thought

And as we hid, with prying eyes
The Hogfather (with list of names)
Came jingling through the wintry skies
HO. HO. HO. as he came!

One-two, one-two! The ham's sliced through!
Its charcoaled skin was bright as chrome
We played Charades, then thanked the Gods
And went galumphing home

'And hast thou drained the scumble-pot?
'Don't be alarmed, my wee pished bairn!'
O scabrous daze, me head's all glazed!
We mortals never learn...

Twas Hogswatch, and the savvy youths
Did slyly grin as sleep they feigned
All tinselled were the icy roofs
And the Hogfather reigned.

Editor's note: Hoggerwatchy is dedicated to Gytha Fiona and Wincantonbury Tales.

December 2007

2007-12-31T09:19:00.000+11:00

THE NEW DISCWORLD HOROSCOPE

by Lady Anaemia Asterisk

RECAPPING YOUR STARS

Greetings, O seekers of the wisdom of the stars! Blessings upon you from Anoia, my personal Goddess of the Month, and may the Cow of Heaven fall lightly upon your cusp and not trample you with her celestial hooves!

It's been recently brought to my attention that - despite my years as a well-paid, I mean, well-known practitioner of the Discly astro-illogical Arts - far too many people know far too little about the heavenly Signs that govern their lives. To ameliorate this benightedness, I have put considerable effort into putting together what the Technomancers call a "database" (although why they want to abase dates, I'm sure I don't know; I prefer sultanas myself). Hereinunder, and also possibly just under here, is an at-a-glance picture of the current Signs and the respective traits, qualities, and other vital information that makes up each Zodiacal profile... and when I say "makes up", let me assure you that hours, no, years have been spent studying the stars. Do I look like the sort of person who makes things up? Hah!

Remember, knowing your exact day of birth is very important, as A'Tuin's travels take us into the realm of different constellations. Even when the name of your Sign changes, its mystical influences remain the same. Except when they don't. Which is why you'll always need the services of a professional astrologer, see? I love it when a plan comes together...

Lady Anaemia Asterisk,
(Astrologer, letters written, light cleaning services available, leave your card with my Igor)

The Adamant Hedgehog 21 Mar - 20 Apr

Born-unders commonly known as: 'Hogs, Hoggers
fruit: pineapple
colour: flesh pink
number: 22
letter: S
matching Agatean sign: the Blowfish
known to influence: feet, ankles, elbows, fingernails
traditional Sign of: Watchmen, athletes, Regimental Sergeant-majors

Hoggers are typically short-tempered, arrogant, and prone to being spiky and dangerous. Many have a talent for prognostication. They especially enjoy shouting, mot of all at subordinates.

Gahoolie, the Vase of Tulips 21 Apr - 21 May

Born-unders commonly known as: Gahooligans
fruit: orange
colour: puce
number: 4 1/2
letter: A
matching Agatean sign: the Reciprocating Fox
known to influence: spleen, shoulders, those small fiddly island-shaped bits on the pancreas.
traditional Sign of: schoolteachers, priests, slave traders, civil servants, debt collectors, entrepreneurs.

Gahooligans are typically fresh, zesty, pithy and often rather sour; they tend to be thick-skinned and do not bruise easily. They are single-minded and simultaneously passionate and phlegmatic, and make good communicators.

Herne the Hunted 22 May - 21 Jun

Born-unders commonly known as: Hernians
fruit: strawberry
colour: burnt umber
number: 14
letter: M
matching Agatean sign: the Heavenly Tourist
known to influence: corpus callosum, sacrum, stiff upper lip, reproductive organs
traditional Sign of: headmistresses, chefs, governesses, minor government mandarins, maiden aunts

Hernians typically have a tendency to sensitive skin. They are self-indulgent but also have a strongly developed pragmatic side; this tends to make for people who are perpetually at war with their desires and cravings, though it has to be said that sometimes that war is lost on one side or the other.

The Wizard's Staff and Knob 22 Jun - 22 Jul

Born-unders commonly known as: Staffies
fruit: aubergine
colour: octarine
number: 11.3165
letter: G
matching Agatean sign: the Hoarse Whisperer
known to influence: mouth, tongue, eye muscles, index finger
traditional Sign of: soldiers, innkeepers, journalists, housekeepers and philosophers

Staffies have an inborn love of pleasure and luxury, and are prone to indulging in passing along unsupported rumours. Often far more self-indulgent than a Hernian, lacking the same balance, yet Staffies can also be very practical - even calculating.

Bilious, God of Hangovers 23 Jul - 23 Aug

Born-unders commonly known as: Bilians, or Chunderers
fruit: grape
colour: burgundy
number: 12 per cent
letter: H
matching Agatean sign: the Water Feature
known to influence: organs of the middle body, particularly the stomach, liver and gall bladder
traditional Sign of: accountants, sales managers, science teachers, hedge witches.

Bilians are typically nervous, somewhat pessimistic, and prone to digestive troubles. They also often lack assertiveness and self-confidence, though at the same time they can be very forceful if pushed too far!

Mubbo the Hyena 24 Aug - 23 Sept

Born-unders commonly known as: Mubboons, or Mubbles
fruit: pumpkin
colour: khaki
number: 31
letter: O
matching Agatean sign: One Won Ton
known to influence: nostrils, and the hand that wields a sword or a ploughshare (or dunging fork)
traditional Sign of: merchants, care workers, actors, Fools, barbarian heroes, agony aunts (though not Agony Aunts), tax assessors

Mubboons typically show honesty and the lack of artifice, and are poor at keeping secrets. They are also known for their kindness, understanding nature and gullibility.

The Small Boring Group of Faint Stars 24 Sept - 23 Oct

Born-unders commonly known as: Boring'uns
fruit: kumquat
colour: yellow
number: 3
letter: C
matching Agatean sign: the Bureaucrat
known to influence: adrenal glands, voluntary muscles, heels
traditional Sign of: church deacons, proofreaders, library assistants, researchers in safe subjects

Boring'uns are typically extremely safety-conscious and often methodical. They dislike excessive risk-taking and are frequently, shall we say, paranoid.

Androgyna Majestis 24 Oct - 22 Nov

Born-unders commonly known as: Andies
fruit: fig
colour: electric blue
number: 256
letter: P
matching Agatean sign: the Dragon's Egg
known to influence: teeth, chest, biceps
traditional Sign of: salesmen, long distance hauliers, mercenary soldiers and secret royalty

Andies typically love familiar, comfortable surroundings, and are casual to the point of, well, extreme casualness; they have a tendency to credulousness. Type 2 Andies might seem credulous types, but underneath they're as sharp as tacks and twice as likely to do you major damage if crossed!

Great T'Phon's Foot 23 Nov - 21 Dec

Born-unders commonly known as: Footies, or Footys
fruit: apple
colour: crimson
number: 1
letter: B
matching Agatean sign: the Vampire Ghost
known to influence: shoulders, neck and, erm, bottom
traditional Sign of: sailors, explorers, animal rescuers, engineers, proctologists

Footies are typically optimistic, sometimes to the point of foolishness, tending to view the world through rose-tinted spectacles. They enjoy travel, and are often happy enough in their own company to be considered "something of a loner"; also famously good with animals.

Hoki the Jokester 22 Dec - 20 Jan

Born-unders commonly known as: Hokians
fruit: cucumber
colour: melon green
number: 7/12ths
letter: F
matching Agatean sign: the Bonsai Mountain
known to influence: eyes, brain, navel, sixth sense
traditional Sign of: highwaymen, Grand Viziers, systems administrators and extremely powerful witches

Hoki is considered a "lucky" Sign; typical Hokians are brooders and deep thinkers, magically adept and sometimes shy, and can be arrogant (though less so than Hoggers...but then anyone else is less arrogant than a Hogger).

The Rather Large Gazunda 21 Jan - 18 Feb

Born-unders commonly known as: Gazundians, or sometimes Potties
fruit: banananana
colour: bone
number: 6ft 7ft 8ft bunch
letter: L
matching Agatean sign: the Barking Mad Dog
known to influence: lips, abdominal muscles, pectorals
traditional Sign of: Seamstresses, subversives, female adventurers, exotic dancers, naturists

Gazundians are typically free spirits, unfettered by the binding conventions of a repressive society; iconoclasts in general, they are also sometimes loners.

Lesser Umbrage 19 Feb - 20 Mar

Born-unders commonly known as: Umbragians
fruit: wahoonie
colour: black
number: 7+1
letter: U
matching Agatean sign: Beti, the Exotic Dancer
known to influence: heart, wrists, hindbrain
traditional Sign of: Cunning Artisans, seamstresses (note lowercase), weavers, surgeons, thieves, counterfeiters, Royal craftsmen, minstrels, troubadours

Umbragians are typically clever-fingered and artistic, with keen eyesight and a good grasp of spatial perception. They are very good at finding their way into locked rooms, and have a natural "nose" for treasure, especially in liquid forms!

Clog post 8 with One Night In Hunghung

2007-11-30T10:55:00.000+11:00

THE CLACKS LOG OF WEIRD ALICE LANCREVIC

Post 8. AURIENTEERING FOR FUN AND PROFIT

First Clog: "All aboard the Aurient Express..."

So. Bes Pelargic. Who'd have thought it? Well, B.S. Johnson, presumably, when he designed Empirical Crescent...though it's never been very clear whether or not Johnson actually knew what the results of his various efforts at design would be. Still, as a mode of travel, multidimensional folded-space topology beats flying carpets and sprung coaches and camels hands down.

As I mentioned in my previous post, we had a surprise waiting for us when we arrived. Two surprises: the first was our unceremonious arrival in the outer kitchens of a very busy restaurant. A very busy, very delicious-smelling restaurant. Where there were unattended golden platters piled high with all manner of exotic delicacies. Oh, yes. As we hadn't eaten at this point for many hours and several continents, the first thing we did was grab the nearest platter and bolt for the nearest broom cupboard where we bolted first the door and then the food in short order. Strange food, but delicious, and only vaguely resembling the Agatean food in takeaways on the Plains and Circle Sea nations. There were dumplings in sweet sauce, odd slimy things that tasted of the sea, rice with curious black beans, weirdly wonderful vegetables, and..."Thif tashtes like Difhtreffhed Pudding," Cert said through a mouthful of something wobbly in little ornamental dishes, and offered me a spoonful. And he was right! -- except it tasted like what Distressed Pudding might dream of becoming if it's been a very good and well-behaved pudding. We were puzzled, and once we'd eaten our fill we decided to explore quietly. The first thing we encountered was also strange -- a rack of very mixed clothing hanging on hooks on the wall -- silk kimonos side by side with old-fashioned Morporkian tunics, doublets and hose, and something that looked suspiciously like an A-M Watch uniform!

"Are we in a restaurant or is it someone's fancy dress party?" I mused aloud.

Cert waved a large book of lacquered cardboard, covered in Agatean pictograms. "Both, it looks like. Says here WELCOME TO BARBARIAN LUCK INTERNATIONAL RESTAURANT, 221B POLITE REVOLUTION WAY, BES PELARGIC, FRAGRANT DINING PLEASURABLY 8 DAYS WEEK NOBLE INTERNATIONAL CUISINES."

"You read Agatean?"

"I have a fish in my ear. But look, it's written below that in common Morporkian."

"Definitely weird. It's the first time I've ever heard Distressed Pudding described as noble cuisine."

The second surprise was the proprietor: none other than the Disc-famous Twoflower himself! First and greatest of tourists and later Venerable Father of the Revolution, Twoflower opened the Morpork Luck Teahouse during the reign of Cohen I, the Sandalled Emperor, and has been doing land-office business ever since. This explained some of the more...unexpected items on the menu, such as Sticky Rice Slumpie and Sweet and Sour Knuckle Sandwich, as well as the unexpected clothing, which is worn by staff in the main restaurant. As soon as we introduced ourselves and told him how we'd got there, he led us to a private dining room and laid on oceans of tea and mountains of desserts...also introduced us to his daughters (Pretty Butterfly, who's the general manager, and Lotus Blossom, who's at school but works part-time in the restaurant)...and after more conversation, booked me for a gig and informed us he was going to take some time off to show us around Bes Pelargic. We've definitely landed on our feet...

* * *

Spent the night in lodgings. Not as posh as the Great Pyramid Hotel, but clean and tidy. Very Auriental.

* * *

Next day: taken on a tour of Bes Pelargic. Bes P is a medium-sized city and shares that same "feel" of port cities everywhere -- a little bit rough, a little bit cultured, but mainly a place where people pass through, mostly coming to trade and rarely staying for long. There are a few settlements of foreigners, though. There's a Genuan community (apparently their Fat Tuesday parade features extra added dragons and Barking Dogs), a Hublandish community, a community of Ankh-Morpork ex-pats, a Little Klatch, and even a small Dwarf community (drawn, no doubt, by the smell of all the gold), and everyone seems to get along rather well. In fact, the current High Official (that's the local version of a Lord Mayor), So Ho Sixpot, has a distinctly Klatchian cast in his ancestry. Everyone seems to know Twoflower, so we were treated as honoured guests. I was told that's a far cry from the old days of the Empire, where even in Bes P foreigners were treated with distaste and often arrested and expelled on suspicion of being foreign. We were taken to restaurants and tea-houses and temples and then shown the Red Triangle District, and the Shu District which is where the docks are. There were ships from as far away as Howondaland there, and even a few NoThingfjord longboats in from the Long Route via Slakki and Ting Ling (we stayed away from that area, in case someone recognised us).

* * *

Day after: we were taken to Bes Eisley. Oh, my.

Bes Eisley, also known as the District of Unmended Shoji, is definitely the downmarket area of Bes P. It's down at the far end of Shu and it's where the most disreputable of the foreigners hang out, along with the local criminal element (always wondered which element is the criminal one. some isotope of narrativium, maybe?). I'd like to be able to say I've never seen a more wretched hive of scum and villainy, but a) I've been to the Shades and b) there was plenty of scum and villainy, but surprisingly little wretchedness. Especially at Threepenny's House of Tea and Poppy Products, where all the customers looked astonishingly happy. And the band -- Sammy Shen and his Sizzling Shamisens -- was brilliant! Sammy's something of a local Personality and an old friend of Twoflower's. He got Mayor So up to play the chi shells, which sound rather like Lancrastian spoons. The Mayor wasn't very good at playing the shells, but no-one in the audience seemed to mind,even though he kept dropping and breaking his instruments...not that that's a problem, as Sammy Shen also sells chi shells by the Shu shore and has a plentiful supply. I was asked up for a few songs. I already had a lot of sake in me, and by the time I finished I had a lot more sake in me because nearly everyone in the place bought me a drink...

Sake is even better than beer, once you get enough down you to get past the taste (like rice that came to a bad end after leading a disreputable life). Sake is also even better than beer for getting wandering bards into sticky situations. Like the one I found myself in with Ten Blue Ox, Sammy Shen's koto player. I mean, we would have got along well anyway -- he has some fine riffs -- but sake has a way of lowering inhibitions to somewhere below ground level, or at least below waist level. And making a person make eyes at another person. And making a person smoke something funny-tasting from Threepenny's private stock. And getting back onstage to do some more requests and taking part in a cross-cultural jam session.

The last thing I remembered clearly that night was kneeling in front of Ox and playing his koto with my teeth. The next thing I remembered was waking up next to a very happily sleeping Ox in a room that definitely wasn't mine, with a hangover and a limp...

Cert didn't speak to me for two days. Not until I introduced him to Breaking Dawn, a friend of the band's who's deeply into technomancers. When in Bes P, do as the Bes Pelargians, that's my motto. All's serene now. Plenty of sake. We still haven't dared try the Sweet and Sour Knuckle Sandwich, but I've written an advertising jungle for the Morpork Luck International Restaurant; the name is too long to use repeatedly, but it has a catchy chorus: "You can get anything you want at Twoflower's restaurant..."

* * *

Day something: we've met many interesting people with many interesting names. It seems there are regional naming conventions in different parts of Agatea; some families use single names and diminutives (usually numbers), some are named for their connection to the five Noble Clans (Fang, Tang, Hong, Sung and McSweeney), some have three-part names (usually consisting of a number, a colour or state of being, and an object), and some have names that are just plain weird. There's Three Blin'd Mice, the greengrocer; Five Spilt Sake, the barman; Lo Hung Wan and Lo Hung Fang, local nobs; Fourplates, the dentist; Zero Rabbit, who runs the apothecary shop; One Stone Dragon, who plays bass shamisen in Sammy's band and should really be called One Stoned Dragon...it's hard to remember them all! Girls and women usually have two names, like Beautiful Poppy and Fecund Doe. Sammy's real name is Shen Sing Ho. And they all think our names are strange!

There's so much history here! Everywhere! I've taken many, many iconographs and written loads of notes. I think I might end up writing that travel book after all...

Time to sleep. Here endeth this post.

* * *

Second Clog: "Wednesday on my mind..."

It turns out that the McSweeneys aren't the only old and noble family with an unusual name by Agatean standards: there are also the Wednesdays.

Back in the days of long-lost Ago when the ancient warlord Toijota ruled the Pelargic coast, a shipwrecked Morporkian sailor was rescued by Toijota's troops and rose to the highest rank in the warlord's service. This sailor's name was Adam Wednesday. He proved to be a valuable resource, not least because he brought actual news of the World Beyond the Walls and actual useful advice about sea-trading and Morporkian military history (read: "fighting dirty, without a crippling load of traditional rules"), and was given the sobriquet of Jinjin-san, which is Agatean for "foreign barbarian sailor who's done bloody well for himself". Wednesday served in the forecourt of Toijota, never again leaving Agatea to return to Ankh-Morpork; he became immensely rich, took a number of wives and concubines, and died old and happy within sight of the beached remains of his original ship. It's to Wednesday that Bes Pelargic owes its centuries-long history of being the only somewhat open port in the Agatean Empire, and its centuries-long willingness to entertain barbarian ways has subtly changed the local culture. If you wander around the Bes Peninsula, you can still find people with the surnames Wednesday and Jinjin; the original Mr Wednesday obviously had a lot of wives and concubines.

We've had a stroke of luck -- we arrived in time for the Samizdat Festival. It's a yearly event peculiar to Bes P and only a few other locations, and it's where those who served in, or served, or say they served, or were standing nearby looking innocent during, the Glorious Revolution gather to remember the Days of Struggle. I'd say you can't move for parades of peasants in pyjamas, but it seems that's just the normal state of Agatean cities; however, parades of peasants in pyjamas don't usually march along shouting things like "Gradual Orderly Transfer of Power to the People!" and "Shun the Evil Imperialists Whilst Using Polite Mannerliness!" It's very enthusiastic and above all, very loud. Twoflower and his family always march at the head of the parade, and afterwards there are ceremonial Campfires of Remembrance where the festivalgoers huddle around eating stale rice and meagre portions of rotten fish and reminisce about the hardships they endured before the coming of the true Red Army. For the record, the rice and fish are deliberately served that way as a reminder; believe me, the real cuisine is to die for (and not because of poisons).

During the campfire ceremony I was able to learn more about what happened in the years between Cohen's accession and the present day. Twoflower confirms that he did indeed serve as Cohen's Grand Vizier, and that they did make some sweeping legal and cultural changes together, but the old ways started creeping back as fast as changes were made and he didn't feel comfortable -- Twoflower, not Cohen, Cohen could feel comfortable anywhere he could hang his sword (preferably from the upper chest region of unrepentant court bureaucrats and nobles) -- with the constant tensions of court life. So when Cohen left, he resigned and came straight back home to open the restaurant. He says that there are changes being made deep in the Agatean culture, but that he hasn't got the necessary thousand or so years to spend hanging around waiting for them to blossom. Agatea is definitely a foreign country -- back around the Circle Sea, changes to culture take place as fast as the Clacks can carry them!

Speaking of the Clacks, they still don't have much in the way of towers here. But that will soon change: someone's had the bright idea to put towers on ships plying the Quirm coast-Bes Pelargic trade route! Transmission depends on the weather at sea, but on a clear, calm day or night the messages fly back and forth much faster than any ship can sail. It's only a matter of time before strings of towers go up all across the mainland...

* * *

We're going to Hunghung! With a native guide! V. excited. Always wanted to see the Forbidden City, and now it's...less forbidden.

* * *

We packed our belongings -- so many belongings now, between all the gifts and all the shopping in Shu and all the scrolls ("...if you can just take this to First Sister's third cousin in Hunghung...") and ornamental sake bottles -- and headed out at sunrise. Everyone turned up to give us a rousing send-off. Even Sammy's band. It was rather sweet to hear Brindisian Rhapsody played on Agatean instruments. Also, Ox gave me a beautiful koto to remember him by. I can think of rather more robust reasons to remember him by, but...also, Breaking Dawn will be giving Cert something to remember her by in about eight months' time, or so we're told. Ah well, that solves my problems nicely, and he did say he wanted to work in the Agatean technomancy industry...but for now, we're back to friendly relations. Nurr, nurr, nurr.

Agatea, for all its gold, is a simple and old-fashioned country with old-fashioned simple poverty. We passed through endless rice paddies and endless tiny villages that probably looked the same in the days of One Sun Mirror. But Red -- our guide, Seven Red Rice -- says there's a very important difference: most of the peasants in the fields no longer kowtow to mounted travellers. They also no longer need special papers to travel from village to village, but Red says most of them still stay put because old habits die hard. That's progress for you.

* * *

Pork ear stew is...interesting.

* * *

After a while, pork ear stew is...less interesting.

* * *

Duck!

* * *

After a while, duck tastes like pork ear stew...

* * *

Today we were passed by an entire flock of carrier pigeons. Very orderly country, Agatea: they were flying in formation.

* * *

Red pointed out the Dragon Mountains, off in the distance. He says that legend has it they're the exposed scales of the Earth Dragon, and that the position of cities relative to parts of the dragon are vitally important according to the dictates of Sheng Fooey. Most Agatean traditionalists, which is to say most Agateans, believe that Ankh-Morpork is built on top of the Earth Dragon's...well, never mind. Use your imagination.

***

Nearly at the gates of Hunghung now. Time to sleep. Here endeth this post.

* * *

Third Clog: "Down but not out in the Heavenly City"

Right. Far, far too much to write about and no way to send it, so I'm dictating the short version in song to Gimpy and getting it carriered back to Twoflower's. He promised to post it on the next Clacks fleet...

ONE NIGHT IN HUNGHUNG

Hunghung...Auriental setting
It's a city of gold full of bureaucrats fretting
The cream of the nobles in their cute silk beanies
Hyping every clan but McSweeney's

Great Wall...doesn't seem a minute
Since the famous Silver Horde stuck their broadswords in it
Small change - don't you know a rhinu
Buys a whole city? Well, that's something more than I knew!
Buys Sto Lat...or Pseudopolis...or Morpork...
Or...or someplace!

One night in Hunghung and the world's your lobster
Those golden temples are a sight to see
You'll find a god in every dry ancestor
And if you're lucky then the squishi's free
I can feel a ninja sneaking up on me

One coin's...very like another
When your head's down counting your rhinu, brother
Etiquette is a chore, it's very 'san' and 'sama'
Though I'm getting to adore those peasants in pyjamas

Gilded and clean -
I've seen forbidden, enchanted, charming towns

Cha, buns, sweet and sour
Caffs as posh as the Emperor's bower
- that's Cohen! You're talking 'bout a hero
Whose 'civilised' index stands at zero
- he got his kicks above the snowline, last time!

One night in Hunghung makes your dwarf bread crumble
No other empire has such history
One night in Hunghung knocks you down like scumble
With pretty geisha girls for company
I can see an army made of pottery

I am...gonna see the army
It's the ultimate sight in a land this barmy
It stuns me more than blowfish
Unlike tsimo wrestling - that's too oafish
Thank the Gods I'm only watching the Noh, not part of it!

See old men play like lightning
Their game's more slick than kung fu fighting
I watch them play, and grind my molars -
Shibo Yangcong-san's for real high rollers!
So you better just stick with your tea, your haikus
Your squishi vendors...

One night in Hunghung and the world's your lobster
Those silken eunuchs are a sight to see
You'll find a god in every dry ancestor
And from Dibhala's tray, some rancid tea
I can feel a ninja sneaking up on me

One night in Hunghung makes your stomach rumble
To munch exotic snacks with jasmine tea
And when their language makes me gasp and mumble
I'll keep Twoflower close for company
I can feel the vampire ghosts right next to me!

* * *

Fourth Clog: "Eek!"

One night in Hunghung is everything the song says, but four weeks in Hunghung is a bit too much for some. Which is to say, for me. It's so big! And so crowded! And so far from home! This is the first time I've actually felt homesick since I began my journey. Not that I want to go home yet, but there are so many more places to see and only so many sweet and sour dumplings a body can eat, and only so many frustrated bureaucrats a body can stand to be around, and not enough gigs to make the evenings interesting (although the Imperial State Gymnastic Orchestra was worth the journey all on its own). So I gathered up my ever-increasing pile of acquired stuff, gave it to Red to take back to Bes P for shipping back to Lost Wages, and went looking for Cert.

I found him in the Hall of Curiosities in the Winter Palace, deep in conversation with a wizardy sort who must have been at least 150. Cert introduced him as Four Dread Teeth (and they are), a Doctor of Thaumology and one of the few old-school Agateans to have studied at Unseen University. Doctor Teeth was quite friendly, though his Morporkian is a bit rusty -- foreign languages officially did not exist in the days of the old Empire, especially in Hunghung. He and Cert have been updating each other (though in the case of Teeth, I suppose it's backdating) about developments in technomancy. They were babbling excitedly about something called Kwan T'um, which according to Doctor Teeth was discovered by his people 3,000 years ago but never explored on the grounds of its being inadvisable magic. It looks as though Cert will definitely have a job waiting for him after he gets his degree. Always good news for someone contemplating child support...

* * *

We decided to head for Bhangbhangduc by way of Sum Dim, going Rimwards after that through the Tang Pass in the Big Dragon Mountains (same dragon, apparently). Sum Dim was both a relief and a disappointment after the mad bustle of Hunghung; it's the most isolated major city in the Empire, so in other words old-fashioned in the least pleasant ways. Nothing but paddies, pyjamaed peasants, and...well, nothing else, really. The Sum Dim cuisine is different, though. Very, very spicy and based mostly on clay-pot cooking, with a gooey gluey bubbliness that reminds me of the Ankh. Not Ankh-Morpork, just the Ankh. Occasionally things bubble up to the surface of the pot, and I swear I saw far too many legs on some of them. Cert and I managed to learn a fair bit of conversational Agatean over the weeks, but out here we might as well not have bothered because the Sum dialect is almost a different language. Luckily, they do feed musicians -- but if I hadn't had my lute and my new koto with me, things would've got awfully hungry. We only stayed for two nights, then hit the road with hope in our hearts. I think we should have tried to hire a guide...

* * *

Lost the road in the dark last night. Nothing but plains and foothills. At least foothills means mountains soon, and mountains mean mountain pass, right?

It's getting very cold at night. Almost feel nostalgic for those flying carpets.

* * *

The landscape is getting...strange. Cert got a vintage thaumometer as a gift from Doctor Teeth. I don't know much about magickal devices, but I'm sure it shouldn't be glowing octarine all the time.

* * *

Landscape even stranger. Still nothing but foothills. We seem to have wandered into old Mage Wars ground. Thaumometer exploded this morning. At least I think it was morning. Um.

* * *

Dictating shrtmth definitly Magewars wyrd trees feelin fnny gtting hrdr to spe-

-- Alc

---

Note for Roundworlders: the original lyrics for One Night in
Bangkok can be found at http://www.metrolyrics.com/one-night-in-bangkok-lyrics-murray-head.html or http://tinyurl.com/2pnjg4

November 2007

2007-11-30T05:38:00.000+11:00

THE NEW DISCWORLD HOROSCOPE
by Lady Anaemia Asterisk

THE STARS ARE ALIVE...

...with the sound of music! Sweet, sweet music. Do you like... soul music? Well, here are the answers to all your questions about "Which musical instruments are the best choices to play for people born under my Sign?" With the aid of astrology, you'll soon be making joyful noises with nimble fingers, mobile mouths, tantalisingly tripping tongues, and even greased elbows and fortunately fortitudinous feet. Whether your passion is for polite chamber music, wildly cultural folkfests, emotionally deranged full-tilt orchestral mayhem, or even Music with Rocks In, knowing your predestined instrument will set you well on the path to harmonious vicissitudinal virtuosity. Let the stars make you a star!

The Adamant Hedgehog 21 Mar - 20 Apr

Your musical instruments: organ, piano, harpsichord

Hoggers are typically bombastic, and nothing says bombast quite like the wheezing, groaning, majestic thunder of a pipe organ in full throttle. Especially if it's that king of keyboard instruments, the Mighty Hurlitzer! Originally designed by B.S. Johnson for the infamous Uberwaldean ivory-thumper Herr Doktor Antonius "the Indomitable" Vybes, the Mighty Hurlitzer can achieve tones that turn bones to water, tones that can only be heard by small woodland animals, and the sort of volume usually associated with avalanches and newborn volcanoes. You'll be the life -- and possibly death -- of every party, and people certainly won't laugh when you sit down at the keyboard!

Those of you with gentler temperaments might prefer the piano (easier to move, requires less steam), the harpsichord (dramatic but reasonably quiet), the harmonium (result of a terrible accident involving a piano-accordion, a treadmill and a bicycle pump, and simultaneously providing music and good healthy exercise), or the virginal, which often isn't.

Gahoolie, the Vase of Tulips 21 Apr - 21 May

Your musical instruments: harp, dulcimer

Gahoolie rules the corpus callosum, sacrum and stiff upper lip, and you'll find all of these are vital for a good harpist, because harp playing requires superb full-brain coordination, perfect posture, and above all, the ability to never crack a smile. The harp is a stately instrument, twice the height of the average Dwarf (but much lighter than a Hogger's pipe organ); its silken strings have been known to soothe the troubled brows of kings, herald the marriages of important personages, and even, at least in the case of the legendary battle harp of Owen Mwnyy, play themselves in times of danger...although playing with yourself is not always the best course of action in times of danger.

The dulcimer is another ancient instrument, more portable than the harp and with far fewer strings, requiring the messy death of far fewer cats. There are several varieties: the Lancrastian dulcimer, related to the zither and easily adapted to folk music; the hammer dulcimer, an oblong-or-eldritch box of strings that are hammered or beaten (rather like playing the piano with mallets); and the NoThingfjord langeleik, a droning dulcimer that makes possibly the most depressing sounds ever heard, but that's appropriate for the frozen wastes of NoThingfjord. Less musically-gifted Gahooligans may prefer the Tsortean monochordon. You can't go too far wrong with only one string!

Herne the Hunted 22 May - 21 Jun

Your musical instruments: flute, tin whistle, ocarina

Flutes have been played ever since our ancestors discovered how to make holes in mammoth bones after the mammoths were done using them, and the flute - or Pan pipe - is traditionally associated with both Herne the Hunted himself and astrological Hernians. In modern times, posh flutes are made of brass, silver or even gold, but over the millennienniennia flutes have been made from such diverse materials as wood, tin, bamboo, bears, sapient pearwood, and even the shinbones of that annoying chap in the next-door cave. They can be played by blowing into one end, or by blowing across the side; they can even be blown through the nose. No, seriously, although it's recommended that one never, ever make a nose flute from sapient pearwood. You just don't want to think about what might go wrong.

The ocarina, a charming ethnic instrument from the Tezuman Empire, is a gourd-shaped clay object with a hole for blowing into and several other holes for tuning. The stone ocarina was originally used to accompany ritual sacrifices to Quetzovercoatl, but since Tezuman religion entered its blood-free phase, wandering bands of Tezumen cross the Disc to busk at markets, hangings and other colourful public gatherings and are famed for their tuneful peeping and failure to disembowel any members of the audience whatsoever. A related instrument, the Howondaland double-chambered flutarina, is made of wood. The best-known ocarina composer, Sir Oliphant Buckerchutty, even wrote a concerto for ocarina, eunuchs, garden gloves and rubber trout, and his ghost is said to haunt the further reaches of Short Street, piping mournfully on windy nights.

The Wizard's Staff and Knob 22 Jun - 22 Jul

Your musical instruments: harmonica, guitar

The Wizard's Staff and Knob rules the mouth, tongue and index finger, so what better instrument for you Staffies than one that requires fine oral dexterity? This is a relatively modern instrument, first created by Borogravian clockmaker Martin Hooter in the early Century of the Fruitbat, but its haunting tones soon spread across the Plains States and were brought to popularity by the coming of Music with Rocks In. It's an easy instrument to play, because listeners have difficulty telling whether or not it's in tune with the band. B.S. Johnson famously tried his hand at designing a chromatic harmonica; it now serves as a foghorn to warn ships straying too close to the Holy Wood coast.

Ah, the guitar. Descended from the noble harp via the wrong side of the sheets, this complex and daunting instrument with its rich range of chords and melody lines has spurred the rise of the one-being band! More portable than a harp, lighter than a piano, strung with finest Agatean silk and strongest Ankh-Morpork steel, this is an instrument fit for a virtuoso...sadly, its fate is more often to be attacked by an amateur, frequently the sort of amateur who wears strange baggy clothing, can't see the strings for all his hair, and fancies himself a bard. Still, it's a great way to pull the ladies. On no account EVER play Pathway to Paradise, unless you want your musical career to be short, nasty and full of angry trolls.

Bilious, God of Hangovers 23 Jul - 23 Aug

Your musical instruments: lute, balalaika

It is my unhappy lot to inform you unhappy lot that there is no musical instrument that can be made from grapes. But as the lute is traditionally paired with wine, women and song, or at least wine, song and hangovers, it's the best instrument for Bilians who wish to lament their sorry state of oenophilic servitude. The lute, with its fine Bardic history, is beloved by bards everywhere (even our own Weird Alice) and even more beloved by romantic suitors all across the multiverse; it typically has several sets of double strings and is made entirely of wood -- although the Omnian Odd, a related instrument, was historically made from the shell of a desert tortoise. Lutes are also the favoured instruments of the Monks of Cool, because one doesn't have to be any good at playing it -- just lounging louchely with a lute confers instant coolth on most lutists. The best lutes on the Disc are those made by Lex Luthier, who even produces a special Bilian model, the only lute to feature its own sick-bag.

Let me hear your balalaikas ringing out! The balalaika, famous local-colour instrument of the Hubland steppes, has only three strings and can certainly ring! The Horse People use them to play their fearsome war-songs on the hoof; the Borogravian State Orchestra considers the balalaika one of the few noisemaking devices not abominated by Nuggan; and the composers Boris Furtivov and Pavel Notsopinko collaborated on a balalaika concerto that is played to this day wherever people in gloomy trousers long for the freezing steppes...on cold nights in Ankh-Morpork, the plaintive yet stirring sounds of allcomers' balalaika competitions ring out across the city from the Hublandish ghetto up by Dolly Sisters. A perfect hangover instrument!

Mubbo the Hyena 24 Aug - 23 Sept

Your musical instruments: drums, spoons, kitchen percussion

The Sign of Mubbo rules the sword -- or plough -- hand of Mubboons and is the Sign of barbarian heroes, actors and Fools, so drumming is the surest way for you to get rid of all that astro-illogically pent-up aggression. Everyone knows a drummer is the life and soul of parties. Also, no-one will ever know when you're out of tune, and as few people can keep accurate time with their hands and feet, they'll all be dancing to whatever rhythm you set for them. What's more, you can practise your drumming anywhere, with or without drums - on cushions, on wet sheets hanging on washing lines, on the cat, even on nothing at all (see Buddy Poor's bestselling book Confessions of an Air Drummer). Every country and every culture has its own native drums, from the round, flat Llamedosian hound-skin drum (the bowwowran) to the minuscule Oi Dong temple drum (played with one hand, of course) to the majestic .99 Zlobenian martial kettledrum (which can achieve true subsonics and is also useful as an alternative to explosives in quarrying).

Spoons make an excellent alternative to drums: for a start, you can find them in every kitchen, so no purchase is necessary. Also, playing the spoons qualifies as an automatic prayer to Anoia, so you'll never have to worry about sticking drawers again! Formal spoon-playing originated in the upper reaches of Lancre, where bored shepherds would rhythmically click pairs of sheep's rib-bones together around the evening campfire (not, obviously, whilst attached to living sheep); this is why spoon-playing is referred to as "playing the bones". In fact, any kitchen can be a veritable arsenal of makeshift percussion. Serious kitchen percussionists will want to investigate the purchase of Bad Blintz bottled medicinal spring water, as the bottles have a particularly euphonic tone.

The Small Boring Group of Faint Stars 24 Sept - 23 Oct

Your musical instruments: xylophone, didgeridoo, susurrophone

As ever, Boring'uns are drawn to musical instruments that are simple, unobtrusive, or, well, boring: nothing with too many strings or too many holes or capable of producing too many exciting tones, nothing too loud, and above all, nothing too prone to inciting violence. To this end, the xylophone might as well have been invented expressly for Boring'uns. It's made of unthreatening woods, played by being struck (gently, for you lot) with rubber mallets, and prone to stay in the same place once it's assembled; it also serves as a useful table once you've decided that more than two differently-tuned bars is entirely too much like excitement.

The Fourecksian didgeridoo, on the other hand, can only play one note. One low, deep, soothing -- some might even say boring -- note. And it's played by the method known as circular breathing -- in through the nose, out through the mouth -- which promotes a calm, relaxed, meditative state. And It has no keys, bars, strings, slides or anything at all apart from a hollow tree branch and some beeswax smeared around the mouthpiece. Perfect!

The susurrophone does have keys and a double reed, but is unique among woodwinds in that it only produces a whisper no matter how hard you blow. The twelve-gauge contrabass susurrophone is the best of all instruments for the shy, excitement-hating would-be virtuous, as it whispers in such a low register that you might as well not be playing at all! Very relaxing.

Androgyna Majestis 24 Oct - 22 Nov

Your musical instruments: trumpet, triangle

Andies are infamous for often playing the strumpet, but tuneful Andies will find that removing the initial S will lead them to an exciting musical hobby! Just hie yourself to the nearest blacksmith with some brass tubing and he'll bend and hammer it into a truly distinctive instrument. The trumpet is not the easiest brass instrument to play -- because it tends to produce 'wolf tones', especially bright, loud notes that agitate any nearby werewolves and can even bring on The Change at inconvenient times -- but trumpet music is wonderfully rousing, notably for neighbours you don't much like. Trumpets, which were developed from the mediaeval wooden Shawn (not Ogg), come in a variety of keys and sizes and can play every note in the standard Morporkian scale (and a few that no composer ever anticipated). For the more adventurous -- and Andies are nothing if not adventurous! -- try the related Fluebelhorn, pride of Uberwald orchestras and winner of both the Longest Note and Loudest Note categories at the Copperhead Consolidated Mining Band Brass Competition for three years running.

Another good instrument for Andies is the triangle (your local blacksmith is going to love you). The triangle is said to be the instrument of angels, and known to be one of the instruments used by those committing folk music; nonetheless, the triangle can be surprisingly challenging to play. Orchestral composers often write rhythmically complex triangle parts -- possibly as a means of getting back at the triangle players, who get the same pay as everyone else but get to spend most of their time dozing at the back or doing the Times crossword. Some players use knitting needles for a gentler tone. This means you can make sweet music and knit your socks for next winter, at the same time.

Great T'Phon's Foot 23 Nov - 21 Dec

Your musical instruments: Quirmish horn, tuba

Cor! In fact, Cor blimey! The Quirmish horn, historically known as the Cor Ankhaise and -- interestingly -- neither Quirmish nor a horn, is just the thing to tootlingly thrill you winsomely woodwindy Footies. A long, sleek instrument, related to the Brindisian Oboe D'amore (a favourite of those of the Casanundan persuasion), the Quirmish horn will fill your days with melancholy melodies. Ambitious players might attempt the north face of Tuttifrutti's famed Rhapsodie for Cor and Catgut, or scale the heights of Horsehack's Lost World Symphony. The Cor's double reed develops good kissing technique (see Oboe D'amore), and its length, heft and general hardness are good for speedily resolving orchestral disputes.

The tuba, stately basso of the brass instruments, is played by a movement more usually known as "blowing a raspberry". This means that you can perform rich, warm passages and secretly display your contempt for the rest of the orchestra at the same time. Many famous Uberwaldean and Zlobenian composers favoured the tuba -- consider the famous tuba passages in the Ring of the Nibelungungungen -- and it is also a featured instrument in many Dwarf operas: perhaps the most famous piece known to non-dwarf music aficionados is the Gold March of Bloodaxe, popularly known as the Haul of the Mountain King. In a world of warbling sopranos and screeching piccolos, the tuba will always let you down.

Hoki the Jokester 22 Dec - 20 Jan

Your musical instruments: banjo, sukinoto

The banjo is famed throughout the Ramtops and across the Octarine Grass Country as the queen of folk instruments, although some say more honestly that a truer description would be the Seamstress of folk instruments...or at least the brazen hussy. Originally invented in Howondaland, where it was traditionally crafted out of gourds or the skulls of Omnian missionaries, the banjo was updated early in the Century of the Fruitbat by an unnamed Dwarf craftsman who saw a use for some low-grade ore tailings and smelted them down to make the familiar modern metal frame. It is played by plucking (with metal fingerpicks), strumming (with very tough fingernails), clawing (very popular with werewolf banjoists), or in the case of more lively gatherings, throwing against a wall and using the resultant twanging clang as a start-point for the Hedgehog Song. Those of a less brazen disposition might consider the Hunghung shamisen, because it has fewer strings and weighs less, although it's not nearly as useful in a pub fight.

The sukinoto (literally "wet garden ornament") is an Agatean musical device. Consisting of an buried upside-down pot with a hole at the top and a small pool of water inside, the sukinoto is placed beside an outdoor handwashing bowl; water dripping into the pot, creates a pleasant bell-like sound. Each part of the instrument-or-device must be tuned separately, and each part of the assembly requires much poetry. It is said that certain jars are born to become sukinoto, owing to their natural bell-like tones. Entire sets of scrolls have been written about the best placement of the washbasin and the correct length of time for washing the hands beside a sukinoto, and sukinosamas -- "musical handwash-masters" -- are accorded the same sort of respect as senior samurai and venerable swordmakers. Which is fairly extraordinary when you consider that what they're playing is, after all, a drainage system!

The Rather Large Gazunda 21 Jan - 18 Feb

Your musical instruments: squeezebox, clarinet

The Gazunda rules the lips, abdominal muscles and pectorals, so the squeezebox, otherwise known as the accordion (or, in some quarters, the discordion), is by far the best choice of instrument for you Gazundians. Indispensable for Morris dancers, harvest-ball bands and Bonk polkestras, the squeezebox comes in two flavours -- button and key -- utilises a membranous bellows made from leather, paper, or leftover insides of sheep, and is the only type of instrument used by strolling players to imitate the death-gasps of murdered characters on stage. Most major churches deplore the squeezebox, believing its jaunty nature lures young people into sin, but the Unreformed Church of Petulia, Goddess of Negotiable Affection, blesses it precisely for this reason. So give in to the lure of the squeezebox and go insane with the membrane!

The clarinet (Brindisian for "undersized trumpet") is favoured by snake charmers, pocket orchestras, ratcatchers, and music halls all across the Disc. A mellow-sounding woodwind that travels well and is easy to assemble, the clarinet has a wider range of tone and register than most other woodwind instruments, and an all-clarinet ensemble can challenge a vocal choir for richness and variety of timbre. That said, it's not exactly sexy; you won't find a clarinet in the hands of the world's greatest lovers, unless it's being put to some creative and not exactly musical use. Don't arsk.

Lesser Umbrage 19 Feb - 20 Mar

Your musical instruments: mousepipes, viola extravaganza

The heart, wrists and hindbrain are ruled by Lesser Umbrage, and you need lashings of all three for your destined instrument: the mousepipes. Traditionally used in battle by the Nac mac Feegle to make their enemies' ears explode, mousepipes are made from mouseskin, often with the ears still attached. Properly-played mousepipes can do far more than fell enemies or clear out stubborn blockages of earwax; when attacked with sufficient vigour and emotion, they can even affect the local weather. A difficult instrument to play, mousepipes are best learnt out on open moorland, where the novice's "off" notes and wheezing stop-starts are unlikely to fell anything more than a passing stoat.

The viola extravaganza, a truly unique musical experience, was invented by Leonard of Quirm and was the first and only bowed keyboard instrument in existence. The idea of a set of steam-driven rotating bows running perpendicular to a set of push-down keys (causing the moving bow to sound the pitch of the corresponding string) came to him when he was redesigning his revolutionary coffee-making machine. Of course, he called it the Machine for Making Pleasant Musical Noises by Means of a Rotating Drum Interacting with Strings and Keys, but Brindisian piano designer Benito-Serendipito Giansoni -- the only person ever to build one of these -- gave it the rather shorter name by which it is known. However, in his first and only public demonstration, Bensoni allowed the pressure to creep up in the steam boiler, and once he hit the big crescendo in Carphammer's Illusione Chorale, things became...ballistic. He was last seen as a blur heading up the north face of Cori Celesti, followed by a large sonic boom; since then, viola extravaganza lessons are only given as musical theory.

October 2007

2007-10-31T14:09:00.000+11:00

THE NEW DISCWORLD HOROSCOPE
by Lady Anaemia Asterisk

A GLASS OF WINE, A BAR OF SOAP, AND STARS

Well now, it's good to be back! After spending several days of last month locked in a cupboard by an esbat of young witches, the sight of my charts and sextant and orrery were welcome indeed. I should have paid more attention to my own horoscope and taken that holiday in Quirm...mind you, what's done is done, and it's best to be philosophical about it. And by coincidence, this month's Horoscope is all about philosophy. What path of wisdom is the best for you to follow when you're born under a wandering star: the wisdom of the Ancients, or the fresh newly-minted-and-sometimes-suspect wisdom of the Moderns? What is philosophy, anyway? What is the meaning of life? What is the airspeed of an unladen Pointless Albatross? Will there be custard? Only the heavens know.

The Adamant Hedgehog 21 Mar - 20 Apr

Your most suitable philosophies: Ibidism; Ridiculism

The Ephebian philosopher Ibid derived the belief that the universe is simple, basic and follows fundamental rules, and from this given comes Ibidism. He also believed in a lot of shouting, especially at other philosophers, so Ibidism is the perfect philosophy for Hoggers; you do love your shouting, don't you... The precepts of Ibidism are: remain rational, learn by observation, trust in the principle of cause and effect, and always get someone else to do your work for you, preferably a rival philosopher.

There are two schools of Ridiculism. One was founded by Ly Tin Wheedle of the Agatean Empire, an aged and rather smelly sage (more garlic than onion, and definitely a strong hint of ginger) who believed that all questions should be answered in the longest, most complex and obfuscatory manner and that a simple yes or no should never be given when a convoluted and nonsensical aphorism will do (especially when you're the sort of sage who charges by the hour); this school of philosophy is wildly popular, particularly among university students, helpdesk operators, medical practitioners and elected civic officials.

The other school of Ridiculism, which is perennially engaged in a legal battle for rights to the name, was set forth by Piotr Sodov Zupnatzi of Uberwald; according to Herr Zupnatzi, true enlightenment can only be achieved through the humility one feels after being thoroughly, vituperatively and undeservedly insulted, and he carried out a tireless one-man campaign to bring enlightenment to all until his mission was sadly cut short by the pointed end of a pitchfork wielded by a large and irate civic official. Strangely enough, this other school of philosophy is also wildly popular, particularly among middle management, sergeants, and the street traders of Ankh-Morpork.

Gahoolie, the Vase of Tulips 21 Apr - 21 May

Your most suitable philosophies: the Way of Mrs Cosmopilite; Call of the Wiled

One of the most modern schools of philosophy, the Way of Mrs Cosmopilite nonetheless resonates with ancient wisdom: this is because, as the Mrs herself would say, it's as plain as the nose on your face. Her homely sayings echo the deep thoughts of Wen the Eternally Surprised, and despite her never having travelled beyond the gates of Ankh-Morpork (well, once, but that was just for business purposes), her canny exhortations cover all eventualities and are proof that homegrown wisdom does sometimes come from far away. If you remember that Seeing is Believing, but Don't Believe Everything you Hear; if you remember that We're All Pretty Much the Same, and that the Leopard Does Not Change his Shorts; if you remember that Tomorrow is Another Day, and that the Grass is Always Greener Over the Hill; and especially if you remember that you're No Better than you Should Be, following the Way of Mrs Cosmopilite will bring you true peace and enlightenment.

The Call of the Wiled is a rather specialist discipline of philosophy. A combination of psychological torture techniques, martial arts (in the rather all-encompassing sense of the term that involves things red in tooth and claw rather than white in gi and dojo), self-motivation and supposedly clever strategy, most often cited as the "only true path to strength and purity", the Call first came to Wolf von Uberwald and his followers in the mountain fastnesses of his home country but has spread across the Disc into all manner of unfortunate places. The Call of the Wiled teaches that life is a game (and the game is War), that the strongest and most merciless will become the Master Race, and that the victor always takes the spoils and spoils the rest. Very popular with non-enlightened dictators, corporate executives and competition ice skaters.

Herne the Hunted 22 May - 21 Jun

Your most suitable philosophies: Xenoism; the Path of the Sweeper

Xeno of Ephebe believed that the world is complex, random and impossible to understand or predict, no matter what Ibid thinks. Taking their cue from the Great Thinker, Xenoists believe that true enlightenment comes only from being attuned to the basic nature of the Cosmic All, and since the Cosmic All is chaotic and whimsical, practising Xenoists dedicate themselves to irresponsibility, mood swings and never remembering to take out the rubbish. Xenoists claim that there is no good and no evil in the universe, only a series of unreliable impulses and meaningless but sometimes amusing accidents, so there's no point in trying to make sense of anything; they rarely show up on time for appointments, but they do make surprisingly good pinball players.

The Path of the Sweeper, as created by Lu-Tze of the History Monks, is a deep and complex school of thought that is nevertheless accessible to all (so long as you remember both Rule One and Rule Nineteen). Lu-Tze holds that every seeker of wisdom must first find a teacher and then find a Way. The general principles of the Path of the Sweeper (and a very clean path it is) require no special equipment and can be summed up by: never reveal the full extent of your knowledge or abilities; always obey the spirit of the law, because the letter of the law is usually laid down by people who aren't thinking ahead; always recognise the difference between an opportunity to show off and a genuine emergency; never forget to appreciate the little details; and always use short firm strokes, letting your broom do the work for you. This last precept can be applied in all sorts of surprising places, especially by little smiling wrinkly bald men who are obviously unarmed.

The Wizard's Staff and Knob 22 Jun - 22 Jul

Your most suitable philosophies: Realist Magicalism; Scienceology

The philosophy of Realist Magicalism, first developed by the research wizard Nils Gammon (who is not a dwarf, although often mistaken for one), posits that the true inner nature of things is far more important than their outer appearance. In other words, you don't need incense, ceremonial masks and dribbly candles; all you need is to learn to spell properly, as it were. Realist Magicalism recognises that magic is a fundamental natural resource and though, like any other resource, it needs to go through a sort of refining process, wrapping it up in overblown packaging with extra tinsel is both wasteful and tasteless. RMs (as they call themselves) believe in practical approaches to life -- simplicity, honesty and efficiency -- and their motto is "Do what thou will with whatever thou happen to hath handy." Realist Magicalism champions the triumph of substance over style; it is notably unpopular with tradition-bound wizards and manufacturers of incense, ceremonial masks and dribbly candles, but is considered the bee's knees by most practising rural witches.

Scienceology, sometimes known as Dementics, is perhaps the most curious school of philosophy on the Disc. The creation of one Huw Bron Allard of Pseudopolis, mad scientist and purported writer of the surrealistic Grime's Fairy Tales, Scienceology postulates that there is a logical, rational and above all non-magical explanation for the universe and everything in it. According to Allard, there is no such thing as magic: Great A'Tuin the World Turtle came into existence by a natural process of evolution, the Hub is made of common iron, the colour octarine is a fiction and doesn't exist in the spectrum, and we were all descended from an ancient race of short-lived, ordinary, non-shining terrestrial beings with no mystical agenda and no unearthly powers whatsoever. He and his followers developed a process they call "editing", which involves reprogramming the non-believer into a solid belief in science and rationality (thus becoming more like our ordinary ancestors); a reprogrammed person is known as a Muddy. Allard has not been seen for many years now; while some say he still lives, in an unknown place and by means of no potions or "magic" at all, the truth is that the Faculty of Unseen University got tired of his nonsense and turned him into a set of croquet hoops on the lawn of Wizards' Pleasaunce.

Bilious, God of Hangovers 23 Jul - 23 Aug

Your most suitable philosophies: Inebriism; Didactylic Cynicism

Inebriists never waste time worrying whether the proverbial bottle is half-full or half-empty; they believe that the world only makes sense from the bottom of the bottle, and only after its contents are firmly settled into the believer. As the great sage Ethan Aule, founder of Inebriism, declared, "The only discipline of this discipline is no discipline." A practising Inebriist knows that the answers to all questions of existence and meaning can be found at the Hour After Opening Time, and that no journeys to faraway lands or years of drinking yak-butter tea at the feet of of a wizened monk can ever bring the clarity of perception that follows the ingestion of a good claret. Re-inebriists, a specialised subset of this school of philosophy, believe higher states of enlightenment can only be attained through the consumption of reannual vintages; an astute Re-inebriist can see the meaning of life in the colours of last year's chunder, and a true Master Inebriist can infer the path of his or her life simply by browsing a reannual wine-seller's catalogue. When you get down to it, the only question that truly matters to the Inebriist is "what's yours?"

Didactylos was quite possibly the wisest of all the Ephebian philosophers and is certainly the most popular among the drinking fraternity. According to Didactylos, the world is funny and old and re-creates itself constantly ("There'll be another one along in a minute"), so there's no point in worrying about past mistakes and you might as well just go get drunk. Didactylic Cynics tend to atheism and, well, cynicism. They traditionally carry lanterns, but this is merely so they can find their way home after closing time.

Mubbo the Hyena 24 Aug - 23 Sept

Your most suitable philosophies: Luddism; Feeglosity

Luddism is not about hatred of machinery, not at all -- it's about the love of clockwork. Named in honour of Lobsang Ludd, who famously makes time for everything, the philosophy of Luddism encompasses a belief that an understanding of the true nature of Time leads to understanding -- and control -- of all things. Luddites tend to be quietly arrogant (their favourite aphorism is Tempus non fugit nisi sic dico, "Time doesn't fly unless I say it does"); they move very slowly (except when they move so fast that you can't see them at all), and they always seem to have time for long holidays, afternoon siestas and that extra round down the pub. They believe that Time reveals all secrets, heals all wounds, explains all mysteries and makes all possibilities possible. The ability to manipulate Time means that while everyone else is slaving away in the fields or at the forge, your Luddite is lazing on the front lawn in a deckchair, cool drink in hand, enjoying a perfect summer afternoon (oddly enough, in the middle of a winter snowstorm; even more oddly, at what other people think is three o'clock of a dark and moonless night). For an advanced Luddite, one man's minute is another's gap-year backpacking holiday. Luddites would make brilliant office managers and civic planners, but for some reason, none of them ever find the time for jobs like those...

Crivens! What we have here is another plain and simple philosophy, taken from the lifestyle and beliefs of the Nac mac Feegle clans. It's what you might call the non-thinking man's philosophy; the emphasis is on action, on acting rather than reacting, and on looking at Big Questions such as "why are we here?" and "what's it all about, anyway?" and giving them a clean miss in favour of drinkin', stealin', fightin', and generally having a good time without disturbing those pesky higher brain functions. Feegles believe that they are already dead and that this is the afterlife, so from the Feegle point of view it's one big non-stop party. Of course, there is also a tradition of dreeing one's weird, which in ordinary language means facing up to your (possibly horrible) fate, but as you're already dead your fate has happened anyway, and there's no point in worrying about how it turned, would have turned, or was meant to have turned out, because that would only distract you from your next round of drinkin', stealin' and fightin'.

The Small Boring Group of Faint Stars 24 Sept - 23 Oct

Your most suitable philosophies: Code of the Igors; Noworis

The Code of the Igors may be the personal family philosophy of that Uberwaldean tribe, but you Boring'uns can learn much from it. The Igors learned long ago that the world is indeed full of uncertainty, stormy weather, mad doctors, insane noblemen, loopy scientists and angry villagers with sharp pitchforks, and to deal with these vagaries they developed the Code. Its main precepts are: Never Contradict; Never Complain; Never Make Personal Remarks; and never, ever Ask Big Questions. Also, the lesser but equally important points: be loyal, dependable, and discreet (although, with Igors, there is also a basic precept of being...discrete), smile often in a harmless way, never oil doors, always have a bag of personal possessions packed and ready where it can be grabbed at short notice, and always know where the back door is. All in all, a very sensible philosophy for Boring'uns to live by!

From the faraway land of Fourecks comes the philosophical discipline of Noworis, as propounded by Ecksians of all walks of life. The ideals of Noworis are egalitarianism ("You can spit on the mat and call the cat a galah"), optimism ("She'll be right, mate"), reverence for Nature ("It's a beaut arvo, so let's knock off work and hit the pub and she'll be right, mate"), appreciation of the nuances of language ("Garn mate, you don't half pong like a dingo's armpit"), and the seeking of the simplest and most harmonious solutions to all problems ("Giss'another tinnie and throw some more snags on the barbie and she'll be right, mate"). Masters of the higher intricacies of Noworis are always called Bruce, as a term of respect and to avoid confusion.

Androgyna Majestis 24 Oct - 22 Nov

Your most suitable philosophies: the Wisdom of Cohen; Chil-mon-chil

The Wisdom of Cohen is one of the simpler philosophies. It teaches us that life is nasty, brutish and short but also contains wine, women, song and rare jewels just begging to be stolen, and can be summed up by "want, take, get distracted by the next shiny thing". The Wisdom of Cohen also shows us that the best things in life are minor pleasures -- in the words of the Master himself, "Hot water, good dentishtry and shoft lavatory paper" -- and that most really difficult questions can be answered with the swing of a good broadsword. A simple philosophy indeed, yet strangely tricksome to master as it requires good reflexes, mighty thews, the morals of a randy tomcat and a sense of self-confidence you could plate a siege engine with.

Chil-mon-chil, the venerable and almost inexpressibly uber-fashionable philosophy of the Monks of Cool (as delineated by Ben Zodi-Asa P'aam, who was seriously relaxed, and Zanax, who was too cool to have more than one name), assures its disciples that the meaning of everything lies in whatever cool people decide it means and that the only state of enlightenment worth striving for is the one that looks flashiest and most effortlessly nonchalant. Advanced Chil-mon-chilists, also known as Dudes, might consider the lesser known sect of Neo Chil-mon, which involves kung fu, dark glasses and a really stylish leather coat.

Great T'Phon's Foot 23 Nov - 21 Dec

Your most suitable philosophies: Objectionalism; Lex Subterranis

Objectionableism, the strictly individualist, anti-collectivist philosophy created by Anya Moribunda Cisterna Avaricia Randova (from Uberwald, obviously), teaches that everything Randova says is the epitome of excellence and anything everybody else says is objectionable -- especially governments, trade guilds, churches and other collectivist groups who disagree with her. Nevertheless, Randova believes that government has an essential role in safeguarding the ability of Objectionableists to make as much money as they are capable of making in as short a period as possible. Objectionalism is not open to debate (for more information, consult her best-selling books We the Unliving, The Showerhead, and Berilia Shook).

Lex Subterranis, also known as the Precepts of Mining, has been handed down from Dwarf to Dwarf on the pointy end of a pick and shovel. It shares some concepts with Ibidism, but the Dwarfs believe that the world is simple, basic and ordered not due to any fundamental nature of things but because Laws make it so. There's a course of action for everything, and a Law to answer every question (for example, the answer to "Why am I on tailings duty while Bors Cleverdiksson gets to play with the nuggets?" is "Book of Mining, Volume 239, page 627: the King always knows what duty best suits each worker."), and this teaches us to accept our lot in life and function well within our society. The Lex Subterranis also reveres the power of the written word. This philosophy makes for a simple and satisfying life, as all those difficult questions are covered: it's easy to sleep well at night when, for example, the answer to "Why are we here?" is "To tease the last bits of good ore out of Seam 22 while the price of gold is up thruppence in the dollar."

Hoki the Jokester 22 Dec - 20 Jan

Your most suitable philosophies: Commercialism; the Way of Ogg

Commercialism, as propounded by the great sage (and onion) C.M.O.T. Dibbler, informs us that life is all about seizing opportunity and offering it to others at a discount. This philosophy, based on one of lifekind's oldest activities, can be deeply humanistic and altruistic if properly practised in the manner of its founder; his understanding of the fundamentally intertwined nature of both sausage and sizzle promotes uncrushable optimism and the realisation that, even if contents are disappointing compared to their packaging and sales pitch, there is always another package and always a chance that the Great Pie of Life will eventually contain Named Meat. Practising Commercialists may appear to be selling shoddy goods in a dishonest manner, but their modest profits facilitate a subtextual payback of bringing the community closer together -- strangers and even enemies commiserating over the wobbly green bits -- and helping people count their blessings -- "thank gods my wife/mother/apprentice can cook better than that". And Commercialist Masters can always get it for you wholesale, which certainly beats the sound of one hand clapping.

The Way of Ogg is the oldest philosophy known to Mankind, yet it is the only one ever to address the questions and practices of Womankind and provide specific answers. A practising Oggist, or Oggess, knows that what the world is really all about is a vast appetite for living and loving (especially the latter), a vast capacity for good food and drink (especially the latter), a vast openness of mind, and the power of a low-cut bodice. The wisdom of Ogg teaches us that all creatures great and small (especially men) are open to suggestion, and that suggestive suggestion is the quickest path to getting all sorts of things open (especially low-cut bodices). Oggists believe in family values (especially the value of having a large family, as that guarantees an eventual army of interchangeable nameless daughters-in-law to take care of your housework) and forgiveness (as long as it doesn't involve family squabbles), and firmly believe that when faced with any of life's Big Questions, the best position to take is always the horizontal.

The Rather Large Gazunda 21 Jan - 18 Feb

Your most suitable philosophies: the Word of Wen; Sumtin Zen

The Word of Wen was first brought into the world by Wen the Eternally Surprised after a very interesting one-night stand with Time (the anthropomorphic personification, that is, and since they produced offspring, it must have been Mother Time, which just goes to show that some stories do get the details awfully skewed). The Word itself is probably "quantum", but what his message means is that the universe is re-created in every instant, that memory is the only Past, and that if you get the hang of mutable realities you can change history, save the world and do some seriously nifty moves on the karate mat. Followers of Wen seek enlightenment through seeing things as they really are but testing the probable truth of all information, remembering that there is more sameness than contrast in the history of the sentient races, cherishing the constant newness of everything around them, recognising that appearances can deceive, and respecting those who have a greater and longer store of memories -- in other words, just like the Way of Mrs Cosmopilite but offering more dojo mojo.

The philosophy of Sumtin is existentialist, surrealist, perceptionist, transcendentalist, postmodernist, absurdist, nontheist, ultra-humanist, pre-prescriptivist and quite possibly plain daft, and its sub-school of Sumtin Zen is all that with extra added funny mushrooms. A famous schism, during the battle (or debate, or probably debattle) to determine whether Sumtin Zen was a philosophy or a religion, caused three major subsects to split off into separate disciplines: the Tea'ites believe that all the profound secrets of the universe can be found by staring into a good hot cuppa; the Goofis believe staunchly in the transcendental power of funny-looking desert fungi; and the Munni, who are pretty much indistinguishable from Yen Buddhists, believe that the only way to satisfy the long night of the soul is to count coins. Lots of coins. And then keep them in your bank account.

Lesser Umbrage 19 Feb - 20 Mar

Your most suitable philosophies: Postvitalism; Pedantophilism

Postvitalism is perhaps the most fervent and proactive of all philosophies and stems from the First Principle, "that which does kill us makes us stronger." As first taught by Reg Shoe at the Fresh Start Club, 668 Elm Street, Ankh-Morpork, Postvitalism posits that the confusing nature of life is caused by overexcited (that is to say, living) glands, and that therefore life can be truly understood and lived to its fullest (so to speak) only by the Undead. Adherents of Postvitalism tend to be strangely excitable for the glandless, but they are nonviolent and love nothing more than a good debate. However, there are not many followers, and none who deliberately died to find such enlightenment; this is one philosophy that only successfully preaches to those already in the choir.

Pedantophilism, which does not mean what you think it means, is the school of philosophy that seeks enlightenment in, well, enlightenment. Pedantophiles, also known as Bibliophiles (which also does not mean what you think it means) and Didacts (sometimes Peripatetic Didacts), believe that a little learning is a dangerous thing but a lot of learning leads to enlightenment (and, sometimes, tenure). The followers of Pedantophilism lead a life of simplicity, penury and assiduous work (though with no heavy lifting, except when a consignment of textbooks has to be hoicked into the cart). Their motto is "Libertis via Logos", which means "browse through the contents of a library and you'll end up much smarter than a short plank", and the ultimate goal of a Pedantophile is to achieve wisdom through memorising at least one complete edition of the Uncyclopaedia Morporkia.

Clog post 7 with Tsort's the Place

2007-10-31T09:21:00.000+11:00

THE CLACKS LOG OF WEIRD ALICE LANCREVIC

Post 7. TSORTED!

First Clog: "You Cloggers are all alike..."

I hadn't realised it was so long since my last Clogpost! Will try to be more conscientious, because I want to remember all these journeys when I'm too old to remember them without special equipment. I've been told about "Clog ennui" -- that's what happens to about fifty-five per cent of Cloggers -- at first it's all enthusiasm and long, rambling posts, and then after a few months their posts get shorter and they post less often, and then they find themselves going "Ooh, I must make a post about that because it's so interesting" and really mean to but seem to keep forgetting, and then a few more months go by and they realise they haven't posted anything at all and they've forgotten whatever was so interesting that they wanted to post about. So I'll do my best. I've told Gimpy to give me a bingly-bingly-beep reminder every two or three days. He offered to just make a note of everything I do so I can "edit it later", but I'm quite sure that some of the things I've been doing do NOT want to be noted, and imps aren't exactly strong in the "a certain discretion" department...

We had a fantastic time in Djelibeybi, weeks and weeks of it. Great gigs out under the desert moon! I had a number of interesting chats with the Queen, and she introduced me to her friend Chidder of Chidders Merchant Venturers U'ltd who sold me a new non-sapient pearwood fretboard for my lute at less than cost price. He also gave me a Recording Device, which is a sort of box with a sort of wire in it that remembers sounds better than Gimpy doe-, um, better than one would think possible (he tapped his nose and said I have to keep it to myself because they've been banned in Ankh-Morpork and are considered contraband; I'd say they're pro-band, myself). And as I mentioned in my song DJEL STAR'S PYRAMID, Queen Ptraci has moved her country kicking and screaming into the Century of the Anchovy and has turned most of the old pyramids into hotels; room service is still a bit heavy on the honeyed locusts, but the best thing about sleeping in a pyramid is that you wake up a little younger every morning. I know where I'm going to spend my retirement.

But all good things end eventually, and it was time to move on before we wore out our welcome. I booked passage on a camel train, and none of the camels broke down (though camel travel is rather like a series of mobile breakdowns; take it from me, camels do not give a smooth ride).

And now here we are in Tsort, having a less fantastic time.

Tsort has never been the same since the Siege of Ago -- the Ephebian conquerors put their retsina-flavoured stamp on the place so thoroughly that it's pretty much been a sort of Turnwise Ephebe ever since. Everything is quiet and dusty and bucolic, relentlessly picturesque locals dozing in the relentlessly picturesque sunshine, flies buzzing quietly around the street markets...until opening time, that is. Whatever glorious history Tsort had back in the days when History was glorious, what it mostly is these days is a tourist trap. Of course, the place is still full of Ephebians, but they don't come here with pointy spears and siege engines now; they come here for their holidays because the architecture is familiar and the food is familiar and the music is familiar but they can walk down the street without tripping over philosophers.

So instead of not being able to move for all the drunken philosophers, you can't move for all the drunken holidaymakers. It's all pubs and hotels and cafes and restaurants and retsina bars and markets and more pubs and, most of all, nightclubs -- which makes it one of the most popular destinations for all the Clubbe Circlesea thirtysomethings. They say they come for the ambience and the mind-broadening aspects of travel, but what they really come for is the boozeries. There's the Fair Elenor, the Inferno (supposedly built on the supposed spot of the supposed Fire of Tsort), the Wooden Horse, the Lavaeolus, the King Mausoleum's Head and Artichoke, the Uninvolved Civilian, the Siege of Tsort, the Sea God's Revenge, the Legged Box (which lists itself as "Tsort's Oldest Inne", although curiously enough no-one seems to know where its name came from), the Soldier's Break...you get the idea. And then there are the nightclubs. Oh gods, the nightclubs. The ceaseless wailing of bouzoukis, the ceaseless barking of Bourzoukis, the ceaseless single-entendre lyrics, the unavoidable Plate Breaking Dance, the ubiquitous sleazily-named cocktails (not to be confused with the Ephebian philosopher Ubiquitus, although it's said that he invented a few sleazily-named cocktails in his day)...I feel like I need a holiday to recover from my holiday...

The twentysomethings from Clubbe 18-29-and-3/4, on the other hand, stop in Tsort for a few cocktails and then go straight to Heliodeliphilodelphiboschromenos. It's popularly known as Heliodeli, but what it should really be called is Heliodeliphilodelphishaggarama! Why this crowd chose a sleepy, past-it city in the middle of nowhere for their rampant, um, mating rituals is a mystery; maybe it's because Heliodeli is a sleepy, past-it city in the middle of nowhere? At any rate, not much sleeping goes on there. We decided, Cert and I, to pass on that particular tourist attraction. When one's (or two's) already been At It like Oggs over half the Disc, including on a flying carpet, having a designated spot for At It hasn't much appeal. We opted instead for doing touristy things. We saw the River Tsort -- very muddy and big on crocodiles -- and the Silent Marshes -- very silent and big on mosquitoes -- and the Siege Market -- big on leather wine bottles and garlic and souvenirs of the Top(ple)less Towers -- and spent the rest of the time getting drunk with the Ephebian tourists.

Well, most of the rest of the time. Speaking of being At It Like Oggs, things have reached the point where Cert can barely raise a damp spark from his fingers [magic-wise, that is]. I think we may have ruined his entire career future! Which is a shame because, while he's a nice lad and I'm fond of him, I can't quite picture him staying home and doing the washing-up while I goo off on concert tours. Still, I won't be going home for a while yet...

Oh, we also visited the Great Pyramid of Tsort. After seeing what Queen Ptraci did with the pyramids in Djelibeybi and after what Tsort has done with alcoholic tourism, I was expecting something slick and modern with hot and cold running kebabs. But it was not to be. The great Pyramid is what you might call a working pyramid -- very, you know, industrial, with scaffolding everywhere because it's so old and they don't want bits falling on the sightseers. There was some very interesting ancient graffiti, though. Very colourful graffiti. I don't know much Old Tsortean, just enough to translate a few simple phrases, but these were definitely simple. And simply definite. The most repeated graffito translates as THYS JOBBE SUXX, and there were other popular ones that I oughtn't repeat. Looks as if the lot of the working man, or working slave, never changes.

It's opening time! Here endeth this post.

* * *

Second Clog: "Do a little dance, buy a little round, get drunk tonight..."

About things musical, and things...less musical: I haven't written any new songs since I've been here. This is mostly to do with someone else's song that's insanely popular here -- it's got into my head and I can't get it out. Cert says it's a "wyrm of the ear", and that's pretty accurate since it seems to be chewing its way through my brain. I'm reproducing it here so you can share my pain! It goes like this:

Tsort's the place, uh huh, uh huh
I like it, uh huh, uh huh
Tsort's the place, uh huh, uh huh
I like it, uh huh, uh huh
Tsort's the place, uh huh, uh huh
I like it, uh huh, uh huh
Tsort's the place, uh huh, uh huh
I like it, uh huh, uh huh

When you take me to the pub
Tell me I'm a round ahead
When you give me all your change
And booze away, until we're nearly dead

Tsort's the place, uh huh, uh huh
I like it, uh huh, uh huh
Tsort's the place, uh huh, uh huh
I like it, uh huh, uh huh
Tsort's the place, uh huh, uh huh
I like it, uh huh, uh huh
Tsort's the place, uh huh, uh huh
I like it, uh huh, uh huh

When we get to dance on the floor
And when we're all close in pairs
When you're dripping sweat in my ear
Widdershins, Turn-, who cares?

Tsort's the place, uh huh, uh huh
I like it, uh huh, uh huh
Tsort's the place, uh huh, uh huh
I like it, uh huh, uh huh
Tsort's the place, uh huh, uh huh
I like it, uh huh, uh huh
Tsort's the place, uh huh, uh huh
I like it, uh huh, uh huh

Booze, booze, booze, booze, booze, booze, booze, booze, booze
Booze, booze, booze, booze, booze, booze, booze, booze, booze

Tsort's the place, uh huh, uh huh
I like it, uh huh, uh huh...

...and repeat ad chunderam. See? Brain-eating. Whatever it was we just barely escaped from in the Lost City of Ee couldn't have been as soul-destroying as that!

On the other hand, they have some interesting musical instruments here. There's the cythara, which is rather like a lyre; the forminx, which is rather like a lyre that's been left out in the rain for 500 years and isn't as saucy as its name suggests; and the barbito, which is a sort of bass-pitched sort-of lute completely lacking in barbs. The latter, I'm told, was the favourite instrument of the poet and philosopher Anachronistes, who was summoned by the then-Tyrant Hipphoppus to compose drinking songs for his household. Anachronistes was noted for his long life as well as his Bardic skills; unfortunately, he choked to death on a grape at the age of 105, and none of his songs survive today, more's the pity as I'm sure they had to be better than the Tsort song. But I bought a barbito in the market, to send home. It sounds good with drums, and I think I might even be able to start a new style of accompaniment that way. Wish me luck.

Time to feed the imp, and then I have a gig tonight. I wonder how my former travelling companions are getting on.

* * *

Third Clog: "Untitled"

I'm sure I heard Cert say the M word in his sleep last night. Not the one you can't say in the UU library, the other M word. Oh dear. I know he's tall and dark and nice and we...um. I hope he doesn't remember his dreams.

* * *

Fourth Clog: "Home is where the harp is"

I got a clacks from home! It was waiting at the Genuan clacks office for weeks, and then someone noticed that I'd clacksed from Djelibeybi and sent it on and it ended up somehow at the Clacks Restante office in Tsort, how excellent is that? It's from Mr Kakhand at The Sore Loser: he says that the harp I ordered from Llamedos by post seven years ago has finally arrived. Huzzah! I've replied asking him to store it in the back room, not too close to the scumble barrels, until I get back. He also says he reads all my Clogs out to the regular customers -- I hope he leaves out the really personal parts -- and that they're very well received, and that I can have a pay rise when I come back if I'm still willing to sing in a sleepy little local tavern. Oh, and Semolina is working full-time now at the Lost Wages branch of the Seamstresses' Guild and doing very well, and no-one interesting has died in the town recently. It's good to get news from home.

Cert and I have decided that we're all Tsorted out now and ready to move on to somewhere else. There's a Chidders ship leaving for the Ell Kinte coast and points Rimwards tomorrow night, so we'll take passage and see what turns up next. But we can't leave Tsort without seeing the Labyrinth yet, even if it's completely touristy now and all the death-traps have been replaced with papier mache models, so we're joining the early tour first thing tomorrow morning.

The night is young. Time to get drunk and look for earplugs.

* * *

This should be an interesting morning. Everyone has a hangover, even
the six tour guides. At least we'll be underground...

***

Note to Gimpy in shortmouth: Split off from main tour party. Found mysterious door in unmarked tunnel. Very old door. Curious. Trying to open -- open now, going to see where it goes --

* * *

It seems we've ended up in Ankh-Morpork. In Empirical Crescent. Number 17, according to the front door. Amazing! Going out to explore now...

* * *

It seems the front door leads to Howondaland.

* * *

Got back through the front door just ahead of a tiger. Trying the back door now.

* * *

It seems the back door leads to Cori Celesti. Leaving RIGHT NOW before the Gods notice they have unauthorised visitors!

* * *

Dark now. Getting hungry and thirsty. Decided to try the front door again, just in case it's changed. Fingers crossed...

* * *

We're in Bes Pelargic!

And you'll never guess who else is here...

-- Alice.

Note for Roundworlders: the original lyrics for That's the Way (I Like It), by KC & the Sunshine Band, can be found at the band's official website: http://www.kcsbonline.com/

Be warned, it's no less brain-melting in Roundworldese. Fun song, though!

September 2007 Witchstrology

2007-09-30T08:05:00.000+10:00

WITCHSTROLOGY: YOUR NEW DISCWORLD HOROSCOPE

by Lucy Tockley
with assistance from Various Wytches

ASK NOT WHAT YOUR LOCAL WITCH CAN DO FOR YOU...

...ask what you can do for your local witch! Hello, Lucy Tockley here, Diamanda as was. As you probably know, Mistress Weatherwax banned me from witching after the Royal Wedding, and now that we have our own Witch Queen in Lancre and the biggest coven in generations and even young witches coming to visit from foreign places like the Chalk, I suppose things are getting too crowded for the elder witches to keep an eye on me. So I've been banned from witching and from going up on the moors and especially from dancing (especially dancing in the altogether, although I have to say that I still have the figure for it), and these days I have to do what Her Highness -- Queen Magrat, I mean, not Mistress Weatherwax -- calls "community service" and that witchfinder Miss Tick from foreign parts calls "sublimation of unseemly impulses". So here I am, having to collect horoscopes from the coven and, you know, edit them. And I'm not even allowed to wear special clothing or occult jewellery until I'm at least 30. I think that's especially unfair because I have learnt a few things, you know, but Mrs Ogg says that Mistress Weatherwax has learnt rather a few more things than I have and knows what's best and that if I'd known what was best I wouldn't have caused all that trouble in the first place.

But that's all water through the Gorge now. Anyway, I've been studying the history of witching in the Ramtops and compared to Olde Tymes we have a very viable and admirable crop of young witches now. Valuable enough to be considered as a national resource (some of us here do have enough education to know what a national resource is). So I urge you to consider the value of your local witch, and how you can repay her for her services. In goods, of course. Witches don't do money, unless they're Mrs Earwig.

Enjoy your horoscope. By witches, for witches. Blessed be.

The Adamant Hedgehog 21 Mar - 20 Apr
by Lucy Warbeck

As the Adamant Hedgehog approaches the cusp of Ramjambalam again, this is a good month for, like, practising your swimming whilst fully clothed. Octedays are an auspicious time for working on escaping from those tricky knots, the ones tied by villagers who haven't, like, read their Magavenatio. The stars also favour attempts to achieve a personal best at holding one's breath underwater.

Recommended gifts: good quality string, unspoilt feathers, old buttons, assorted cheap trinkets, and eggs, for, like, shamble-making; dried field rations; small scissors; waterproof boots.

Gahoolie, the Vase of Tulips 21 Apr - 21 May
by Dimity Hubbub

At mid-month any experimental cure mixtures are unlikely to explode. Tuesdays favour Wow-Wow Sauce making, but be very careful of the amount of sulphur you use and employ only silver tongs during the second quarter of the moon. When Euno Hu, major star of Gahoolie, is brightest (around the 21st), use clear days for rock collecting. Avoid salad greens when the moon is dark. If romance is in the air, be sure to ask for diamonds, as they have many practical uses around the home and are good for grinding things for pastes. The 11th is a good day for hat maintenance, but avoid fires.

Recommended gifts: interesting minerals; silver tongs; family herbal recipes (for testing); turnips; hatpins, because a good strong hatpin can avert so many embarrassing pyrotic accidents.

Herne the Hunted 22 May - 21 Jun
by Tiffany Aching

This is a good month for making difficult cheeses, especially during the new moon. Herne's Horns shine favourably on clotted cream, though you should be sure to save your best cream for a limited run of Sto Lat Runny. The third week of the month is a good time to pointedly avoid romantic entanglements, although really there is never any good time for romantic entanglements if you want to get things done. On the 13th, 27th and all Octedays, learn a new word. The stars actually neither know nor care about new words, but these days are best for stimulating the memory. Practise balance in all things this month; you never know when it might come in handy.

Recommended gifts: felt, calico and willow branches, for hatmaking; sheep shears; turpentine.

The Wizard's Staff and Knob 22 Jun - 22 Jul
by Petulia Gristle

A good month for trotter and hoof cures. Medicinal pig-scrubbing should take place only at moonset to avoid unfavourable influences. The 10th, 14th, 19th, 22nd and 25th are good for tail examinations. Reserve mid-month for porcine contraceptive activities. To avoid Spavined Knuckle, Ear Wriggle, Ruddy Farrow and Rumpstiff, do not dose your pigs in the last week of the month. The Knob shines favourably on udders during the three-quarter moon. The 21st is good for romance, but only if you've tagged your piglets first.

Recommended gifts: ointment and jollop bases; old leather trousers, the thicker the better; carbolic soap; old chain mail vests.

Bilious, God of Hangovers 23 Jul - 23 Aug
by Agnes Nitt, with interruptions

No matter how many foolish people claim the stars govern your love life, romance is in the heart, not in the skies. "So says the girl who has a bedroom full of fluffy soft toys and always casts apple-peeling spells to find the name of her potential boyfriend, as if." Use your horoscopes to plan practical chores, for example, the second Thursday of this month is best for preparing pain-relieving medicines. "Practical chores are boring. Deep down, you haven't a practical bone in your body! Mind you, one would have to dig really deep to find your bones." Three-quarter moon is the best time for broom repairs. "We all know what's going through your mind when you get a bit of wind up your skirts." Midwives should prepare birth-encouraging charms between the 12th and 20th, and you can just shut up, Perdita, thank you very much.

Recommended gifts: preserving jars, especially if they're full of preserves; throat pastilles; knicker elastic; chocolate, no matter what Perdita says about the calories.

Mubbo the Hyena 24 Aug - 23 Sept
by Gertruder Tiring

Cookery magic is in your stars this month! Genuan witches favour gumbo magic, but I always say you can see the future best in a good rabbit and onion pie. For learning of possible future romance, try a thick root vegetable stew at quarter-moon. To learn the best time for early planting, make turnip and broad bean soup on the 15th or 30th. A lightly fried egg at new moon can tell you when money will cross your path. Avoid reading tea leaves until Mubbo is on the cusp of Boring, but rose-hip tea gives good results all month. On the 9th, try eels. It's amazing what you can learn from examining a bowl of boiled eels.

Recommended gifts: small cauldrons; casserole dishes; ramekins; egg whisks; seeds, particularly savoury potherb seeds.

The Small Boring Group of Faint Stars 24 Sept - 23 Oct
by Caramella Bottlethwaite

The stars shine on lettuce this month for all Boring'uns. Lettuce will bring you luck, but most importantly for those born under this meek Sign, lettuce asks nothing of those who eat it. It's easy to chew, unthreatening in flavour, and never ever attacks you when you try to pick it, unlike the Herbs of a certain elder witch I could mention but won't. If you feel adventurous at mid-month, try a mild vinegar dressing on your lettuce. Avoid peas. That's all I have time for because I have to plant my winter lettuces now.

Recommended gifts: shovels and other garden implements; thick woolly socks; boots. With hobnails, for preference.

Androgyna Majestis 24 Oct - 22 Nov
by Amanita de Vice

Woe, oh woe! Your stars are terrible this month! All is blackness and despair, and not only should you not get out of bed, you should paint everything black and wear extra mascara and eyeliner and hang your head and wail and moan because life is so awful and nobody understands the inner pain you feel because you're so sensitive and artistic and not like anyone else at all, no, really. Yours is a life of anguish and misunderstoodness and even the very stars conspire to make your existence an endless desert of misery. I know how you feel. Blessed be.

Recommended gifts: black ink; long black underwear; black nail polish; black mascara; washable black tattoo patterns.

Great T'Phon's Foot 23 Nov - 21 Dec
by Harrieta Bilk

D'Jum-Boh, the Grand Trunk star of Great T'Phon's Foot, exerts a favourable influence this month on clothing and personal adornment. This is the best time to try out those bold new fashion statements you were always afraid to make. The second week of the month, and also the 18th and 22nd, look kindly on puce and carmine. After all, there's only so much you can do with black, and puce is this month's black, at least until the 23rd. Decorate your boots at half-moon, in fact, half-moon decorations would be a good idea. In the second quarter of the moon, try bat-shaped buttons and unusual hatpins. It's up to witches to set trends now!

Recommended gifts: dresses, secondhand, in wearable condition. Remember, it's always a good idea to size your local witch (by comparison with an approachable non-witch), as garments too large or too small could result in your being convinced you've become a frog.

Hoki the Jokester 22 Dec - 20 Jan
by Annagramma Hawkin

Fortunate stars shine upon you this month! The Sign of Hoki is particularly empowering, and if you cast your runes in local ruins you will become as empowered as the leopard, and I'm telling you that leopards are very empowered. The stars are very emphatic about the proper Opening of the Circle at esbat time. The Turnwise winds carry secrets, and learning secrets is essential for all young witches; some say witching is best learnt from books, but a witch who seeks true wisdom will find it in the simple ways of simple peasant folk, who have plenty of simple peasant wisdom so long as they have a witch to tell them which bits of their wisdom is wise. Pay more attention than usual this month to the advice of your local witch, and don't make her angry. You wouldn't like her when she's angry. Warts happen.

Recommended gifts: cloaks. Any good spare cloaks in excellent condition. A Zakzak Stronginthearm Zephyr Billow, for preference.

The Rather Large Gazunda 21 Jan - 18 Feb
by Magenta Frottidge

The Gazunda is back in the House of Hedbangur until the 16th and moves to the House of Hoose on the 20th, and what better time to practise your potions? Well, no better time, as it happens. Early moonlight favours the making of jollops. The second night of the full moon is good for lotions this month. Charms will work best on alternate Wednesdays and the third Octeday. Collect herbs and plants of the woodland during three-quarter moon. Do not make any curatives that require scumble; best to wait until next month. Avoid ylang-ylang; replace with Klatchian Migratory Bog Truffle essence or distillate of suckrose and akwa.

Recommended gifts: candles; dried flowers; essential oils; denatured alcohol; rare essences of the Aurient.

Lesser Umbrage 19 Feb - 20 Mar
by Lulu Darling

This is an excellent month for magnetism. The special sort of magnetism that women can practise best and witches don't practise often enough: forget octiron, we're talking about the magnetism of romance. Check your stars closely for the best dates for dates - let's see, this month that would be the 2nd through the 17th and the 24th through the 30th. Hitch your skirts up higher than usual at new moon, and with luck you'll be able to hitch them higher still. And never underestimate the power of a low-cut bodice, especially if your parents gave you the kind of name that just reeks of low-cut bodices anyway. After all "witch" is fifty per cent of the word "bewitching", so make the most of what you've got.

Recommended gifts: china and crockery; interesting ornaments; oysters; red boots; Sonky preventatives.

Djel Star's Paradise

2007-09-30T00:07:00.000+10:00

Editor's note: This month's WOSSNAME was hijacked by the young witches of Lancre, who decided to strip out Alice's clog and publish only one of her songs. If you think I'm going to argue with a bunch of half-trained witches going through puberty, you're crazier than ~~they are~~ Achmed the I Just Get These Headaches.
-- The Editor.

WEIRD ALICE, IN BRIEF
Assistant editor's note: although Weird Alice is technically not a witch, she is the resident Bard of this publication and possessed of -- and some might say by -- strange powers, so we are including her Clacks Log. However, only in abbreviated form. Or as Annagramma put it, 'All right, she can have her bit, but it's not to be as long as the important parts.' So I've edited this Log down to the lyrics of one of Alice's tales of her current holiday location. -- T.A.

DJEL STAR'S PARADISE
by Weird Alice Lancrevic

As I walk through the valley of the Source of the Djel
I'm looking back on my trip and realise I've done well
Cause now I've put Djelibeybi on the map
Stars of the Djel have become a tourist trap
These people never crossed a Pharaoh although most deserved it
They were treated with contempt, you know they were servants
They were too priest-watched for free thought
And scared down to their socks
But now there's Queen Ptraci, and the lady rocks
Old Dios' pyramids pauperised too well
Once religious artefacts - now they're just hotels...Djel!
I'm the kinda Bard Ankh-Morpork poets want to be like
All my songs come out right, ending verses with a near-rhyme

Hey, my hieroglyphic Id's
Living in a Djel star's pyramid
Capstone nightly blows its lid
Living in a Djel star's pyramid
I do like the Pharaohs did
Living in a Djel star's pyramid
Only costs me twenty quid
Living in a Djel star's pyramid

I've got this situation, heat makes me brazen
I can't be a normal wife, I'm too crazed for the gigs
So I gotta get down from the D'regs scene
Too much sand and camel watching desiccates my dreams
I'm an educated Bard with career on my mind
Got a pen in my hand and an imp standing by
I'm a lost Lancrastian, Disc-trekking hasty 'un
And my carpet's broke down, it's sitting in the hangar - Djel!
Death is watching but my lifetimer's fine
I'm living large on the Djel, this Grand Sneer's mine
Just Cert and me, it's as magical as seven plus one
As strange as it's turning, we'll have fun

Tell me why are we
In Djelibeybi
When the action's on
The Circle Sea?

Hey, my hieroglyphic Id's
Living in a Djel star's pyramid
Working for the highest bids
Living in a Djel star's pyramid
I will never hit the skids
Living in a Djel star's pyramid
Signing autographs for kids
In my penthouse Djel star's pyramid

Flowers of the desert, dessert made of flour
Hanging out with Ptraci, paradise is ours
Got a massive fanbase though half of them are mummies
What can you do in the desert but witty songs for dummies?
I'm learning ancient Djeli, Ashk-ur-men-tep has taught me
I can read old inscriptions - some bits, quite naughty

We'll go to Tsort
We'll go to Leshp
Hit every port
That's how we'll find those pleasures of the flesh - Djel!

Hey, my hieroglyphic Id's
Living in a Djel star's pyramid
Capstone nightly blows its lid
Living in a Djel star's pyramid
We do like the Pharaohs did
In a mod-cons Djel star's pyramid
Only costs us twenty quid
Living in a Djel star's pyramid

Tell me why are we
In Djelibeybi
When the action's on
The Circle Sea?
Tell me why are we
In Djelibeybi
When in Hersheba there's
Gigs for me?

Note for Roundworlders: the lyrics for Gangsta's Paradise can be found at: http://tinyurl.com/3224rr

August 2007

2007-08-31T21:20:00.000+10:00

YOUR NEW - OR OLDE - DISCWORLD HOROSCOPE
by Lady Anaemia Asterisk

THOSE WERE THE DAYES

I recently attended an Astrologers' convention, and one of the prizes I brought home with me is an actual horoscope from the days - or dayes - of Ago. And what a fascinating document it do be, my dear Astropossums! These are the times of Signs and Portents, and so, apparently, were those. According to my calculations, the Turtle was well and truly moving, no doubt toward the Red Star as it does every more-than-a-few centuries, so the people were more at unrest than usual and more than ever in need of advice from the Stars. I find this strangely comforting...and strangely lucrative, for those of us in certain professions. Or Profeffions. The following Horoscope, which I have faithfully reproduced here, is of course written in lower middle Middle Morporkian, but if you wade your way through the extra vowels and the creative spelling and the random permutations of the letter S, you'll find that people of Ago and their zodiacal concerns are pretty much the same as those of Now. The more things change, eh? It is also rather A-M centric, but this is unsurprising, as in the days of Ago your average Astrologer knew on which side her profit sheet was buttered, and few Forn customers were likely to pay well. Enjoy.

Ye Celestial Parsnippe 21 Mar - 20 Apr

Thys will bee a good Monthe for Diverf actyvities around ye Home. Forget not ye bowle of poisoned Milke for ye Faerys every Octeday. An handsome Tradefman will call upon thee on ye 18th; an you would avoid severe Illneff, buye notte his Saufages inna Bunne.

Gahoolie, ye Vase of Tulipf 21 Apr - 21 May

For ye Keepers of Innes, ye thirde Weeke be a good tyme to change that Troll's head on ye pubbe Sign. An awefull Fyre in Morporke art predicted for ye 9th; save tyme by knocking downe ye Ankh bridges now. Gahoolie favourf any Betrothal made in the dark of thys Monthe's Moon, but promife not marriage to wall-eyed Dames lest they bee borne under Wezen.

Ye Two Fatte Coufins 22 May - 21 Jun

A goode Monthe for War with Klatch. Beware ye Poxe; stocke uppe on powdered Duck, Leeches and Quickfilver. Husband welle thy Houfekeepinge, for difficult Tymes threaten when thee Beard of Io neareth ye Cusp of Mubboe. Avoid Bleedinges until ye 27th.

Ye Knotted Stringe 22 Jun - 22 Jul

Plague doth continue, efpecially in Short Street and its surroundes; place all blame upon thatte Hublandish famylie and avoid ye Companie of thofe Urchins which playeth dead rat Conkers. At fulle Moon, sacrifice with generositye to Seffifet. Wear not aught of ye colour Blewe until ye nexte new Moon.

Ye Perhapf Gayte 23 Jul - 23 Aug

A goode Monthe for War upon Sto Lat. Beware exploding Alchemystes and pine-applef. Weeke of 7th art auspicious for baking of ye early Hogfwatch caykes. Thirde Octeday bringeth wellcome relief from ye Poxe, but alfo bringeth unwanted Relatives; freshen thy door Lockes and inveft in repellynt Potions.

Mubbo, ye Hyaena 24 Aug - 23 Sept

A goode Monthe for War upon Llamedos. Change Newtes in ye Welle. Ye seconde Weeke bee a good Tyme for ye Practife of Morris dancef. An Wyzard attempting Promotion goeth badly wronge; avoid ye Landes near ye College of Wyzards lest ye be turned into a Bowl of sour Cherrys. Butter will notte churn upon ye 20th; blame thatte Hublandish famylie.

Ye Small Boringe Group of ye Fainte Starres 24 Sept - 23 Oct

Bad tymes ahead, also behind and to Widdershins. Ye King's menne will tax thee Unfairley thys Monthe; blame Klatchians in Dollye Syfters. Romance doth beckon upon ye quarter-Moone. Bee efpecially kind to Green-grocers and avoide ye colour Puce.

Okjock, ye Salefman 24 Oct - 22 Nov

A goode Monthe for War upon Muntab, if it bee Found. Okjock favoureth Finance when ye Moon enterf an Gibbous tyme; search ye Houfe for mislayed Coppers behinde thy Pallett, and avoid Beggar menne. An Turnip caft upon ye Hearthe will appease unkind Spirytes. Thatch neither Cott nor Dunnye until ye 30th.

Ye Cowe de Heaven 23 Nov - 21 Dec

A good Monthe for War upon thy neighbourf. In all Thynges dysastrouf, blame thatte Hublandish famylie. A goode Monthe for kippered Herringe. Beware one-eyed Doggs and all priefts of Om. Sacrifyse to Goddes of thy choice ere Dawn on Moone-dark.

Wezen, ye Twice-headed Kangaroo 22 Dec - 20 Jan

A goode Monthe for War upon Istanzia. Plague of Gnomes; engage ye thee Service of ane Ratte Pyper on 5th or 25th. Wezen favoureth Weavinge and Dyeinge of Cloutf thys Monthe. Buye noe Potionf until ye Ides. A chance Meetynge with Thievef can bring unexpected Opportunitye, but avoid Fooles, for they art Dangerouf until ye next fulle Moon.

Ye Ashtraye of Anoia 21 Jan - 18 Feb

A badde Monthe for War upon Ephebe; wait until next Monthe. Plague of Dwarfef; block ye Cellar stoutley. Get ye notte out of Bedde on 11th, 17th, 19th and 23rd, but rise early on even-number'd Dayes. Goates giveth no Milke in fourth Weeke; blame thatte Hublandish famylie.

Ye Flyinge Moofe 19 Feb - 20 Mar

A goode Monthe for dodging ye Drafte. For ane smalle Pryce, ye merchante Dybbler can arrange Passyge to Ephebe; but be certeaine to move elfewhere before War breaketh oute next Monthe. Avoide Mymes and Urchin chyldren, and drinke no Ankh water; trust me on thys, for bee I notte ane Aftrologer?

Clog Post 6 with Down Under

2007-08-31T12:01:00.000+10:00

THE CLACKS LOG OF WEIRD ALICE LANCREVIC

Post 6. THIS GREAT SOUTHERN SAND

First Clog: "When you came in here, didn't you have a plan for getting out?"

So we crashed. In the desert. I imagine that counts as a breakdown.

But first we got blown off course going over the Hublands by a random storm of raw magic somewhere on the Circle Sea side, which meant we didn't make it as far as Al-Khali, or even anywhere near Al-Khali. I suppose this is partly my fault, but hey, it takes two to horizontally tango (and I have to say that you haven't lived until you've horizontally tango'd on a flying carpet; just make sure you have somewhere safe to land), and how was I to know it was really true about wizards and the not tangoing thing? Or that when a wizard loses his magic it sucks out all the other magic in the immediate area? So we crashed. The effect is only temporary (luckily for us), but this explains why wizards get their oats as students, and why wizards daren't marry. Cert says you can always tell the students who aren't getting their oats; apart from doing better on exams, they're the ones with hairy palms and a permanent aura of maddened frustration.

Klatch is big. Really big. You just wouldn't believe how vastly hugely mindbogglingly big it is. And sandy. So much sand. And dry. Big and sandy and dry and so very, very empty, except for us and a patch of less sandy-coloured sand that may have been a lizard...oh, and D'regs. According to my guidebook, the D'regs are a noble desert tribe, a "warlike, fierce and honourable" people who take pride in their ancient traditions. Since my time in Uberwald taught me that "noble" is often as not another word for "arrogant, unsympathetic and bloodthirsty, sometimes literally", you can imagine my dread when they rose up out of the sand around us like lizard-coloured patches. But our luck was in that day, because they neither killed us nor treated us badly. All right, we were captured, but once again my lute got us out of serious trouble. Instead of killing us out of hand, they invited us to a party! The chieftain, whose name is al-Rhaiva, spoke a little trade patois, and with my smatterings of Year 6 Klatchian, we were able to communicate well enough. They loaded us onto a spare camel in exchange for our carpet (I am so very not getting up in one of those again, ever), gave us a good long drink of stale water (best drink I ever tasted in my life), and off we went to...well...another stretch of featureless sand, but they seemed to know where they were going...

Our destination was the oasis of Phati D'oun. It's well known among the D'regs as the Place of Herbs; here can be found the powerful stimulant qat and the powerful hallucinogen qit. Mixed together, they're known as qat-qit, and their effect can keep you up for days while making you see enough strange visions that you won't even think of the sleep you're losing. Once you've tried qat-qit it's hard to quit -- one of the common cries of D'reg hunter-gatherer groups translates as "Have a qat-qit, have a break!" -- and there was plenty of qat-qit use in evidence at Phati D'oun. As the sun set redly over the dunes and the baking hot desert day turned to bloody freezing desert night, we joined in the festivities. Oh boy, did we join in the festivities. I was designated Other Special Guest (since there was already a Special Guest, namely the Alchemical Brothers, from the valley of Great Sand); the masters of ceremonies were the handsome twins Fahim and Faher, and they accompanied me on camelskin drums with some pulse-pounding percussion as I played Loose in the Burnoose, Smells Like Tent Spirit, Camel Chameleon, You Dry Up My Life, an all-rocking rendition of Deeper and Dune, and an ode to Seven-Handed Sek, patron god of the Dehydrated Ocean, that I called Bringing Sek's Sea Back. Cert had got his mojo back by then and used his Technomancer training to put on a light show; the camels calculated trajectories and spat out their cuds at high speed, and Cert turned each cud missile into a ball of sparkling flame that landed harmlessly on the far side of the oasis. We partied and drank and watched the dancing houris and ate dates and no, I didn't try the sheep's eyes. And as the slow desert dawnlight rolled slowly across the dawn desert, we staggered off to our tents with a slurred chorus of "I'm going to Great Sand, Great Sand, down in Elharib, I'm going to Great Sand...proud D'regs our patrons in desert breeze, and we are going to Great Sand..."

* * *

On the following day, we, that is to say the D'regs, were attacked by the Misplaced Tribe of Unreal. I'd believed they were only a legend, and when they first crested the dunes I thought they were a leftover hallucination from my qat-qit hangover, but no. The Misplaced Tribe are descendants of a lost cadre of Klatchian Foreign Legionnaires who joined the KFL to forget and then forgot they were in it; now they wander the trackless desert, pillaging passing caravans and plundering pilgrims on the paths. They were no match for al-Rhaiva's D'regs though, and the survivors willingly joined our lads (though not in as, um, unfettered a capacity as ours). They were led by a pale-skinned, pale-eyed young man called Sojar ibn Sheri, aka the Lyon of the Dessert (fierce wanderers aren't so good with the spelling), who thinks he came originally from Ankh-Morpork, or possibly Muntab, but has long since forgotten. He's quite good with camels though. The Misplaced Tribe will no doubt continue to exist -- they can't remember if they were the whole Tribe or if there were others who forgot to come along.

We pitched our tents on yet another featureless expanse of sand which, I was told, was near the Djelibeybian border. It seems we can get transport down the Djel to the Circle Sea. I always did want to visit Djelibeybi; any nation that lists garlic as one of its primary exports gets my vote. Remember, my mother's side of the family were Nugganites...

The story so far, in song:

Travellin' on a flyblown carpet
With a whiffy smell, like Nobby's armpit
I met a D'reg houri in Klatch's service
She mixed me up like a whirling dervish
And she said,

Do you burn from the sand down under?
Hot rash below? - well, no wonder
Do you feel, do you feel quite sundered?
Your tender bum you better keep covered!

Half-dead in a D'regs-filled place is
Even worse by far with no oasis
I said, "Is the coastline that way?"
They just grinned and gave me some scorpion sorbet
And they said,

We run with the sand down under
Where thirst can kill if you blunder
Do you feel, do you feel encumbered?
Beware the sun - you better keep covered!

Flying in a windblown quand'ry
With a sick Imp and no clean laundry
I said to the D'regs, "Let us leave this country
"Because I long for a land that's tent-free!"
And we said,

Sinkin' in the sand down yonder
Where camels plod and D'regs wander
Do you feel like you're bleaching blonder?
You're turning brown, you better seek cover!

* * *

Second Clog: "Not lost, just cartographically variable"

The Lost City of Ee materialised next to our tent during the night.

This is not as unusual as it sounds. According to the history books I've read, the Lost City of Ee is a brigadoon, a magickal node of placeness that disappears and reappears at various places on the Disc (or sometimes elsewhere in the multiverse). My Mapp placed it well rimwards of Elharib, but it was published in the Century of the Fruitbat and is obviously out of date. We were also obviously out of dates, and thirsty again, so we packed up and set off inside the strangely carved walls in search of breakfast; we couldn't ask the D'regs, because every one of them, man, woman camel and prisoner, had mysteriously disappeared without a trace. So had the inhabitants of Ee, by the look of it. Everything was covered by a fine layer of dust -- not all of it desert dust by any means -- and the streets were paved with very old-looking mud, but the fountains in city centre were still running and the water was cool and delicious. And there were fruit trees! With fruit on them! Cert insisted on muttering a few poison-detecting spells over our "found meal" before we ate, but they came up clean. I thought I noticed a funny shadow at the edge of the market square when he was spell-saying, but it was probably just a heat hallucination, or the last effects of the qat-qit.

When we were well fruited, I decided to have a bath in the fountain while Cert explored...after all, there's been a lot of geography between here and the last bath I had in Genua...and after bath came nap. By the time I woke up, it was late afternoon and Cert was back. He'd found some old grimoires (he was well chuffed about that, since if you remember he'd thrown his own ones overboard just before Captain Aie's pirates captured us) and some fresh clothes (for a "probably centuries old, but at least they look like no-one's died in them" value of "fresh") and a couple of fine-looking ceremonial daggers (in case anything new and exciting attacks us), but no people and no food, so we've had some more fruit. He's also found what he thinks is a collection of sapient pearwood figurines, but said it was getting dark fast in that part of the city and he'd rather rest and go back in the morning. We gathered some old furniture and made a fire because the temperature was dropping again. I swear the shadows look funny around the edges of the square. Must be the firelight. But in the end we decided to go back outside the walls and pitch our tent in the open desert, in case the city decided to leave with us in it while we were asleep.

We've made a pact to sleep on separate sides of the tent until we get back to someplace less, well, lost.

On a side note, Gimpy has been acting funny. I've been getting him to read back my posts before he sends them, and I keep having to make corrections to the spelling and grammar and sometimes ask him to delete whole passages he's copied down twice. He says his processor spell needs a flush. I don't even want to think about what that entails. Cert says he can fix Gimpy but he needs some specialist supplies including something I think he called a daemon-magnitiser and something about a hard drive. But I don't drive my Imp too hard! Hopefully, the next time we're near someplace vaguely civilised, we can sort this out.

Tired now. Here endeth this post.

* * *

Third clog: "Necessity is one mean mother"

We went back into the Lost City the following morning, since it was still there. It's really quite beautiful in a ruined lost city kind of way, and while I can't say I've been too happy with all the unexpected changes in my travel itinerary I'm glad I got to see Ee. The buildings, those that haven't fallen down from extreme age, are very attractive, with lots of weird carvings that wander behind corners when you try to look at them, and a number of arch-balconied courtyards in the Al-Khali style I've seen in travel books. I do wonder what became of the people though. We examined a number of buildings, including one that looks like it used to be a library, but the room with the carved figurines was empty this time; the only thing left in there was a large statue of what looked like petrified wood. It was carved or sculpted or whatever in the shape of some sort of many-armed goddess, not one either of us recognised, with knives in her hands rather like the knives we were now carrying, and a huge jewel in the centre of her forehead. Just sitting there. Huge. Possibly a yellow diamond or an octarine -- although if it was an octarine, it had to be the largest one ever cut. Huge, and just sitting there. I climbed up onto the plinth (the wood or stone or whatever was very warm, considering that the room was dim and not ever likely to see direct sunlight) and took out my dagger and started to prise it out of the statue's forehead. As one does. I had it loose and almost ready to come out when Cert looked up from reading a grimoire and shouted at me to stop.

"Why? This must be worth a fortune. Or will be, when we get back to someplace with people and jewellers."

"No! That's some sort of holy statue. You know something horrible will happen if you remove the jewel! It's a law of narrative causality!"

"Don't be silly. Cohen the Barbarian does this sort of thing all the time, they say."

"But you know about the sort of things They say! Something horrible will happen!"

Huge jewel. Fortune. I decided to ignore him and listen to my inner avarice. The stone came out very easily after that. It was very warm. Blood-warm.

Something horrible happened.

* * *

On run from something horrible. Don't know what, but large and angry. Dictating on run. City crumbling. Shadows moving. The walls. The walls. The -- Gimpy! Stop stammering, godsdamn you! Everything starting to tilt, sort of. Lights ahead -- ah, the desert! About to dive through gates, shutting up now!

* * *

I'm now dictating in midair. Here's what happened: we made it through the gates just in time, because immediately afterwards the whole city started shimmering and wavering and faded out so completely that it looked as if nothing had ever been there...except for the shadows. We still had our daggers and Cert still had a couple of grimoires, but our tent was nowhere to be found and there was still this feeling of forebodingness in the air. We walked on for a while, but soon the sun and the heat wore us right out. "Anything in there that could get us out of this desert? There must be some way out of here...maybe there's a foldaway broomstick inside one of the covers..."

"Don't be such a joker," says the man who'd just stolen some precious ancient books of magick.

There were an awful lot of shadows on the horizon, considering it was not long past noon.

After a time, during which the shadows kept creeping closer, he did find a promising spell, which he translated as Fingerpull Eccluniastes' Instantaneous Troublefree Transporter, and read out the runes from the ruins in a hurry. There was a flash of light, a peal of thunder (for effect), a cloud of octarine smoke, and...

"A carpet? A carpet?! I'm not getting on that." "Suit yourself, if you'd rather be lunch for that." I turned in the direction Cert was pointing, took one look, and here we are on a flying carpet again. At least it's not too far to Djelibeybi, and we're both older and wiser.

Over and out.

* * *

Shortmouth time: Djelibeybi! Safety! Civilisation! Beds! Indoor plumbing! Food! Markets! Audience tomorrow with Queen Ptraci!

Shopping now. More later. I'm off to buy socks in the souk.

-- Alice.

Note for Roundworlders: the original lyrics for Down Under can be found at: http://www.lyricsdomain.com/13/men_at_work/down_under.html (although this is not a totally correct version - but every other lyrics page for this song on the anternet seems to make the same mistakes)