Ah, the magic of the moving pictures! Roundworld has just had its yearly "Oscars" feeding frenzy, so isn't it timely that a certain friend of mine has unearthed a long-forgotten cache of classic clicks that survived the destruction of Holy Wood? I've watched them all, and as that nice Mr Dibbler is arranging to distribute copies at a cutting-his-own-throat price, I'm using this month's Horoscope to suggest which clicks would be most entertaining for beings born under each Sign. So spruce up your projector-imps, cuddle up on the sofa, and don't forget the banged grains...
The Adamant Hedgehog 21 Mar - 20 Apr
COOL HAND OOOK: a gritty, hard-hitting, soft-fruit-chucking ape-flick set in a small Howondaland stockade. See the famous banana-eating contest! See the alpha male challenge the ruling authorities! Starring Mel Gibbon in his most famous cross-species performance.
MY STEPMOTHER IS A KLATCHIAN: the hilarious misadventures of Jenny Klatch, a secret agent who tries to infiltrate Ankh-Morpork in the guise of a sex-bomb housewife and ends up falling for A-M ways. Priceless, and also only AM$7 for a copy!
Gahoolie, the Vase of Tulips 21 Apr - 21 May
NEVER GIVE A VIZIER AN EVEN BREAK: a chaotic Agatean comedy-fest set among the perpetual wars between the Fang, Hong and MacSweeney clans. Poisoning was never so side-splittingly funny before!
GNOME IN 60 SECONDS: see Buggy Swires and Hamish Mac Feegle in their first and only team-up! They unite to solve a rash of buzzard-stealing...from the inside. The aerial scenes will make you reel! And possibly hurl.
Herne the Hunted 22 May - 21 Jun
LANCRASTIC PARK: terrifying palaeo-imps, extracted from ancient scumble dregs in Bad Ass, run amok in a theme park opened by C.M.O.T. Dibbler. Just when you thought it was safe to go into the nature reserve...
MY FAIR LYCANTHROPE: a classic, memorably tuneful musical about a professor who decides to prove that young dogs can learn new tricks. Contains the famous song "I Could Have Barked All Night".
The Wizard's Staff and Knob 22 Jun - 22 Jul
A MAN FOR ALL SEASONINGS: the stirring - and chopping, and dicing, and grilling, and baking, and stir-frying - story of the King who would be Chef. The special effects will make your mouth water!
THE MAGNIFICENT 7+1: in the greatest mid-western ever filmed, an octet of wizards fight evil and each other across the Sto Plains, against the background of a world gone madde, or at least Bursar.
Bilious, God of Hangovers 23 Jul - 23 Aug
HOW THE WURST WAS WON: the dramatic story of the quest to create the BEST SAUSAGE IN UBERWALD! With 1,000 ELEPHANTS! And NAMED MEAT!
PRETTY DEMON: the story they said couldn't be told! A beautiful young wood-nymph joins the Seamstresses' Guild and captures the heart of a handsome rubber-products tycoon. Star-crossed romance that will tug at your heartstrings!
Mubbo the Hyena 24 Aug - 23 Sept
HOWONDALAND SMITH AND THE TEMPURA OF DOOM: our intrepid hero bites off more than he can chew when he steals the Jewel of the Djel and finds himself chased by camel-riding ninjas, sword-wielding handmaidens, and the Klatchian Foreign Legion!
BIG TROUBLE IN BES PELARGIC: a Morporkian cart driver takes a holiday in Agatea and has to rescue the locals from a plague of ancient vampire ghosts. Magic, explosions, kung fu - this one has it all!
The Small Boring Group of Faint Stars 24 Sept - 23 Oct
IT DIDN'T HAPPEN ONE NIGHT: in which a reporter for The Times doesn't meet an heiress, doesn't go to exotic far-flung romantic places, and totally fails to have any kind of excitement or adventure. Guaranteed safe and unexciting viewing, but available with subtitled exclamation marks for the braver among you.
CLACKSWISE: brilliant slapstick comedy about a fussy Dark Clerk who throws the Patrician's Palace into disarray with his obsessive timekeeping. Best Silly Walks in the history of clicks-making! Contains no pineapples.
Androgyna Majestis 24 Oct - 22 Nov
VICTOR/VICTORIA/LADDIE: the heart-rending emotional trials of an unfortunate soul who's part man, part woman and part werewolf. And you thought you had a hard life...
SOME LIKE IT NOBBS: it's an all-singing, all-dancing, all-cross-dressing musical extravaganza when a pair of Watchmen investigate mob activities by joining a band managed by Chrysoprase. Great tunes, great frocks; great Io, there are some scary sartorial sights!
Great T'Phon's Foot 23 Nov - 21 Dec
EVERY WHICH WAY BUT WIDDERSHINS: laugh with action star Flint Beastwood as a roustabout wanderer who travels the Disc with his pet chimp Nobby, wreaking havoc every step of the way from Sto Helit to Heliodeliphilodelphiboschromenos! Another Mel Gibbon triumph.
ONCE UPON A TIME IN THE HUB: you'll recoil in fear as cold-blooded Assassin Mr Teatime stalks the Tooth Fairy because he's been hired to inhume all in the Castle of Bo- oh wait, wrong story. This is an epic about killers and land-grabbers. Same thing, really.
Hoki the Jokester 22 Dec - 20 Jan
THE GODMOTHER: sweeping tale of a subtly evil witch's rise to power, and how she rules over a clan of potion-peddlers with a fist of iron and a mouth full of marbles. Not recommended for children, muhahaha.
THE CHRONICLES OF PSEUDOPOLIS YARD - THE LIAR, THE WATCH AND THE WARDROOM: in which Done It Duncan finds a magic wardrobe that lets him enter the Watch House whenever he wants, to confess to all the unsolved crimes in Ankh-Morpork. Great special effects!
The Rather Large Gazunda 21 Jan - 18 Feb
DANCES WITH ELVES: the enchanting, haha, story of a Lancre Morris dancer who gets captured, and then adopted, by the Lords and Ladies. Features Jason Ogg in his first film role - and real Morris dancers. No stunt-men were harmed in the making of the Stick and Bucket dance!
BRASSICA INSTINCT: a spine-tingling thriller in which a wealthy, married, Quirmian brassica farmer is seduced by a wicked, vengeful temptress from Sto Lat. The cabbage-stabbing scene is unforgettable!
Lesser Umbrage 19 Feb - 20 Mar
BACK TO THE SUTURE: the thrill-a-minute fantastic tale of how a young Igor has to travel through time to make sure 1.21 gigawatts of lightning get sent through the corpse of his all-important ancestor. Horrors previously untold! Excellent stitiching techniques demonstrated!
LOWLANDER: Swords! Stirring battles! Mousepipes! Lawyers! A once-in-a-lifetime, headbuttingly pulse-pounding tale of the Nac Mac Feegle's struggle to produce the ultimate dirty-fighter. Dere can only be one t'ousand!
Friday, March 31, 2006
Tuesday, February 28, 2006
February 2006
This month, as Spring rumbles to sap-pumping wakefulness in the civilised world and the fabled Continent of XXXX is in full-on summer party mode, we turn to the exploration of how the stars affect our social calendars. Yes, it's true; month by month, your Sign dictates just what sorts of social engagements will turn out best for you, or at least, least disastrous. This can be very handy as an excuse for declining unsuitable appointments: "It's written in the stars that I absolutely must wash my hair next Saturday, whether I need to or not!" Of course, the downside is that your stars might show that you simply daren't miss your great-aunt Petrolena's milkman's eldest daughter's third child's christening. Ah well, if so then let's hope said milkman's daughter is a recent convert to the Church of Bilious! Right, then, off you get. Go forth, read your horoscope, and party hard...
The Adamant Hedgehog 21 Mar - 20 Apr
Recommended: Weddings
Best to avoid: Military recruitment meetings (unless you're the recruiter)
All Hoggers know about the benefits of good organisation, and what better time to put your organisational skills to use than when planning a wedding? Of course it doesn't matter whose wedding you're planning; the couple has yet to betroth who won't be better off for your exacting directives, um, directions. Who needs wedding planners when there's a Hogger in the house? Don't forget to colour-coordinate the serviettes with the bridesmaids' dresses, or to see that the band follows your by-the-second timetable, or to ensure that the wedding vows are tidy and respectable with none of that newfangled not-agreeing-to-obey nonsense. Make sure you save up some of your best shouting techniques for the caterers and the mother of the bride. Do it right and the entire wedding party won't know what hit them until after the honeymoon! Well, actually, they will, because it will likely be you. Hoggers excel at starting wedding brawls. With both sides of the family.
Gahoolie, the Vase of Tulips 21 Apr - 21 May
Recommended: Stag Nights
Best to avoid: Klatchian coffee mornings
Speaking of weddings, no blushing bride need ever fear her intended not turning up at the temple on time when there's a Gahooligan involved in the groom's Stag Night! Gahooligans aren't exactly known for being the life of the party. In fact, they're more often the death of the party, or at least the afterlife that skulks around the outer edges of the crowd, distributing Fresh Start pamphlets while everyone else's eyes are glued to Miss Veronique Va Voom and her Seven (but rapidly decreasing in number) Veils. Fine for some, but you already know how it feels to have your eyes glued. And this "last night of free life" lark is overrated: the only freedom, really, is the freedom of postvitality. Of course, you could always try stapling on your happy face and having some fun for a change. Come on, who's the last person who ripped your clothes off, apart from that cute mortuary assistant?
Herne the Hunted 22 May - 21 Jun
Recommended: Barn dances
Best to avoid: Martial arts demonstrations
Whether you're celebrating the end of harvest time, the dedication of the new village pump or just the opening of last week's vat of vintage scumble, a barn dance is the perfect place to let yourself go and dance, dance, dance. Hernians may tend to uncertainty, but you're always among friends at a barn dance. Spend some time practising some well-loved country dances. Try your hand at baking scones. If you go into the evening with a good heart, you may find that people look on you in a new light, and your dance card will be full until dawn! No need to practise the Last Waltz though; you'll find that one comes naturally. Beware strange men bearing sparkly dresses, smelling of lilies and sounding like maracas.
The Wizard's Staff and Knob 22 Jun - 22 Jul
Recommended: Wine tastings
Best to avoid: Get-fit classes
Wine, the elixir of life! So many vineyards' best to sample, so little time; that's why wine tastings are so popular. Not only do you get to sample the many delights of the noble grape, but you have to spit each sample out again, so you can spend far more time socialising - and eating canapes - before the floor rises to meet you. Ahh, the canapes...bivalves a la Genuenne en croute...little cubes of Lancre Blue...delicate bites of squishi...bite-sized Bonk blutwursts...and then there's the wines, from Vieux River champagne to the finest fortified Quirmian cabbage cordials. Do be careful at reannual tastings, however. You could end up with the worst mixed-alcohols hangover long after you've forgotten which octacongeners to watch out for.
Bilious, God of Hangovers 23 Jul - 23 Aug
Recommended: Pub crawls
Best to avoid: Temperance Society meetings
My dear Bilians, we've been down this road before...and we'll no doubt go down it again, in the usual full morning-after technicolour. This, then, is a good time to point out that pub crawls do have their own special etiquette. There's the ceremonial Stringing of the House Keys (around your neck, so you can get in when the night-cart pours you out at your front door); the time-honoured Ritual of Pre-apology (leaving some damages money with your designated staggerer helps); the Donning of the Fishermen's Oilskins (serious pub-crawlers know that this saves on laundry bills); and of course the Sacred Chant of "It's my shout!" (so you can remain a functioning member of the party long after your higher cognitive functions have shut down in horror). If you follow these guidelines, you may have an especially good time, even if you won't remember it any better than usual afterwards!
Mubbo the Hyena 24 Aug - 23 Sept
Recommended: Birthday celebrations
Best to avoid: Backstreet gambling sessions
Mubboons tend to be the perfect birthday party guests: the typical Mubboon is kind, honest, lacking in pretentiousness, unsophisticated - in other words, just the right sort to find enjoyment in singing silly celebratory songs, playing embarrassingly childish party games, creating a fire hazard with half-blown-out candles and taking far too much delight in humorously shaped birthday cakes. Oh, and wearing ridiculous paper hats. And I can see that you're already panting with excitement and checking your calendars in the hope that someone close to you will be celebrating a birthday this month. If you find yourself short of birthday celebrants, you could always try getting together with some Gahooligan friends and throwing a deathday party.
The Small Boring Group of Faint Stars 24 Sept - 23 Oct
Recommended: Funerals
Best to avoid: Invitations to go hang-gliding
As has often been observed, it takes a Boring'un to put the fun back into funerals. As it happens, that observation is entirely untrue, but funerals certainly are the right sort of get-together for those born under this Sign. No true Boring'un can tolerate adventure, excitement, risk-taking or loud noises, and a funeral rarely has any of these. Funerals, apart from being, well, as quiet as the grave, are so reassuringly, undemandingly final (except in the cases of some Wizards, most Vampires, and quite a lot of Gahooligans); best of all, they're a very real reminder that the deceased is one more being who will never again burden you with social engagements! So off you go, with a suitably sombre outfit, a sombrely serious face, and a secret song in your still-beating heart. Enjoy.
Androgyna Majestis 24 Oct - 22 Nov
Recommended: Random spur-of-the-moment inadvisable interactions with total strangers
Best to avoid: Gatherings of Thudmeisters
Andies come in two flavours: lovers and fighters. All right, three flavours, because some of you Andies are worryingly good at combining the two. Many of you will remember the famous "wrestler d'amour", Casanolda the Magnificent, who was born under Androgyna Majestis and whose most famous show-stopper was his all-in tag team bout with two pole-dancing- um, sorry, I got a bit distracted there. Yes. Loving and fighting, those are your strong points, and this is a good month for seeking out those singles bars and tough-neighbourhood street corners you never tried before. True love is elusive, but there's many a plausible imitation to be had in random anonymous meetings, especially out in the back alley behind Mrs Palm's...and nothing, er, nothing else can put a healthy glow on an Andy's cheeks like a good brawl. The choice is entirely yours!
Great T'Phon's Foot 23 Nov - 21 Dec
Recommended: Soirees
Best to avoid: Book signings
Soirees. Cocktail parties. Fondue evenings. Happy Hours. Call them what you will, these sunset-lit social events are your kettle of lobsters this month. Now is the time to make the rounds, flaunt the fripperies, flash the frocks fantastic, and broach new benchmarks in the fatuous folderol of glamorous gossip and scandalous small talk! No event is too minor, no ceremonial celebration too pointless for the attentions of you large-living Footys. Have you been accused of being willing to "attend the opening of an envelope"? Prove them right by popping along to Mr von Lipwig's drinks evening to honour the issuing of the new Quirm Real stamps. Test your new wheel of Sto Helit Farmhouse Runny at a cheese 'n' wine fiesta. Seek any opportunity to display your festive Footy fashion sense. Every soiree will be your little triumph. Absolutely fabulous, darling.
Hoki the Jokester 22 Dec - 20 Jan
Recommended: Harvest or Planting festivals
Best to avoid: Gytha Ogg's cookery classes
It's that time of year again! The time when maidens run friskily and young men get their bells and hankies out and all sorts of innocent-looking things and activities take on sudden cartloads of double - and single - entendres. Hokians, though sometimes shy, also tend to be magically adept, and this is certainly your month for casting the sort of spells that would make anyone but an Ogg blush. Polish those Maypoles. Oil those threshers. Study the dark and amorous secrets of both Morris dances. Run with the horned stag ("horned" being pronounced with two syllables here) and dance sky-clad under the - why, hello, Mistress Weatherwax! Lovely to see you here! I'd quite forgot you were born under Hoki. Move along, readers, nothing to see here. Of course we can't be having with that sort of thing.
The Rather Large Gazunda 21 Jan - 18 Feb
Recommended: Baby showers
Best to avoid: A day at the races
Before the patter of little feet comes the patter of large amounts of coinage. It's no cheap or easy thing to bring up a child in today's modern society, so isn't it a good thing that baby showers are so lucrative, um, forward-looking? This month, make your friends' or relatives' baby showers Events to Remember. Come dressed in nappies. Bring the kinds of gifts that a child will find truly useful further down the Road of Life - why bother with the same old pink and blue knitted booties, cot blankets and playsuits shaped like humorous bunnies, when you could give gifts like cottage-thatching lesson vouchers, cookery books†, football boots, pre-paid medical care under the new Lawn Plan, even some of Mr Sonky's finest rubber goods...believe me, when those children grow up you'll be top of their "people to help" list during hard times. Be original!
† But not Mrs Ogg's Joye of Snacks, unless you're definitely including the rubber goods.
Lesser Umbrage 19 Feb - 20 Mar
Recommended: Anniversary parties
Best to avoid: A night at the opera
And so we come to the last Sign, and it looks like you Umbragians got the boring end of the stick: anniversary parties. But they don't have to be boring! Anniversary parties may traditionally be about bad calamari, drunken uncles, doddering grandparents and Black Uberwald Gateau, but there are many far more interesting anniversaries you could choose to celebrate. There's the anniversary of the founding of Unseen University. There's the anniversary of the passing of the Golem Rights Act. There's the anniversary of the explosion of Old Humbert, the B.S. Johnson-designed Different Engine at Grabpot Thundergust's cosmetics factory. There are anniversaries of nations and of the births of demigods and of natural disasters and even anniversaries of the unfortunate demise of the favourite pet vermine you kept rather inattentively as a child. Every day is a day of remembrance for something, so find yourself something truly amusing to celebrate. After all, someday you'll be that doddering grandparent and you won't remember what the Black Uberwald Gateau is meant to celebrate.
The Adamant Hedgehog 21 Mar - 20 Apr
Recommended: Weddings
Best to avoid: Military recruitment meetings (unless you're the recruiter)
All Hoggers know about the benefits of good organisation, and what better time to put your organisational skills to use than when planning a wedding? Of course it doesn't matter whose wedding you're planning; the couple has yet to betroth who won't be better off for your exacting directives, um, directions. Who needs wedding planners when there's a Hogger in the house? Don't forget to colour-coordinate the serviettes with the bridesmaids' dresses, or to see that the band follows your by-the-second timetable, or to ensure that the wedding vows are tidy and respectable with none of that newfangled not-agreeing-to-obey nonsense. Make sure you save up some of your best shouting techniques for the caterers and the mother of the bride. Do it right and the entire wedding party won't know what hit them until after the honeymoon! Well, actually, they will, because it will likely be you. Hoggers excel at starting wedding brawls. With both sides of the family.
Gahoolie, the Vase of Tulips 21 Apr - 21 May
Recommended: Stag Nights
Best to avoid: Klatchian coffee mornings
Speaking of weddings, no blushing bride need ever fear her intended not turning up at the temple on time when there's a Gahooligan involved in the groom's Stag Night! Gahooligans aren't exactly known for being the life of the party. In fact, they're more often the death of the party, or at least the afterlife that skulks around the outer edges of the crowd, distributing Fresh Start pamphlets while everyone else's eyes are glued to Miss Veronique Va Voom and her Seven (but rapidly decreasing in number) Veils. Fine for some, but you already know how it feels to have your eyes glued. And this "last night of free life" lark is overrated: the only freedom, really, is the freedom of postvitality. Of course, you could always try stapling on your happy face and having some fun for a change. Come on, who's the last person who ripped your clothes off, apart from that cute mortuary assistant?
Herne the Hunted 22 May - 21 Jun
Recommended: Barn dances
Best to avoid: Martial arts demonstrations
Whether you're celebrating the end of harvest time, the dedication of the new village pump or just the opening of last week's vat of vintage scumble, a barn dance is the perfect place to let yourself go and dance, dance, dance. Hernians may tend to uncertainty, but you're always among friends at a barn dance. Spend some time practising some well-loved country dances. Try your hand at baking scones. If you go into the evening with a good heart, you may find that people look on you in a new light, and your dance card will be full until dawn! No need to practise the Last Waltz though; you'll find that one comes naturally. Beware strange men bearing sparkly dresses, smelling of lilies and sounding like maracas.
The Wizard's Staff and Knob 22 Jun - 22 Jul
Recommended: Wine tastings
Best to avoid: Get-fit classes
Wine, the elixir of life! So many vineyards' best to sample, so little time; that's why wine tastings are so popular. Not only do you get to sample the many delights of the noble grape, but you have to spit each sample out again, so you can spend far more time socialising - and eating canapes - before the floor rises to meet you. Ahh, the canapes...bivalves a la Genuenne en croute...little cubes of Lancre Blue...delicate bites of squishi...bite-sized Bonk blutwursts...and then there's the wines, from Vieux River champagne to the finest fortified Quirmian cabbage cordials. Do be careful at reannual tastings, however. You could end up with the worst mixed-alcohols hangover long after you've forgotten which octacongeners to watch out for.
Bilious, God of Hangovers 23 Jul - 23 Aug
Recommended: Pub crawls
Best to avoid: Temperance Society meetings
My dear Bilians, we've been down this road before...and we'll no doubt go down it again, in the usual full morning-after technicolour. This, then, is a good time to point out that pub crawls do have their own special etiquette. There's the ceremonial Stringing of the House Keys (around your neck, so you can get in when the night-cart pours you out at your front door); the time-honoured Ritual of Pre-apology (leaving some damages money with your designated staggerer helps); the Donning of the Fishermen's Oilskins (serious pub-crawlers know that this saves on laundry bills); and of course the Sacred Chant of "It's my shout!" (so you can remain a functioning member of the party long after your higher cognitive functions have shut down in horror). If you follow these guidelines, you may have an especially good time, even if you won't remember it any better than usual afterwards!
Mubbo the Hyena 24 Aug - 23 Sept
Recommended: Birthday celebrations
Best to avoid: Backstreet gambling sessions
Mubboons tend to be the perfect birthday party guests: the typical Mubboon is kind, honest, lacking in pretentiousness, unsophisticated - in other words, just the right sort to find enjoyment in singing silly celebratory songs, playing embarrassingly childish party games, creating a fire hazard with half-blown-out candles and taking far too much delight in humorously shaped birthday cakes. Oh, and wearing ridiculous paper hats. And I can see that you're already panting with excitement and checking your calendars in the hope that someone close to you will be celebrating a birthday this month. If you find yourself short of birthday celebrants, you could always try getting together with some Gahooligan friends and throwing a deathday party.
The Small Boring Group of Faint Stars 24 Sept - 23 Oct
Recommended: Funerals
Best to avoid: Invitations to go hang-gliding
As has often been observed, it takes a Boring'un to put the fun back into funerals. As it happens, that observation is entirely untrue, but funerals certainly are the right sort of get-together for those born under this Sign. No true Boring'un can tolerate adventure, excitement, risk-taking or loud noises, and a funeral rarely has any of these. Funerals, apart from being, well, as quiet as the grave, are so reassuringly, undemandingly final (except in the cases of some Wizards, most Vampires, and quite a lot of Gahooligans); best of all, they're a very real reminder that the deceased is one more being who will never again burden you with social engagements! So off you go, with a suitably sombre outfit, a sombrely serious face, and a secret song in your still-beating heart. Enjoy.
Androgyna Majestis 24 Oct - 22 Nov
Recommended: Random spur-of-the-moment inadvisable interactions with total strangers
Best to avoid: Gatherings of Thudmeisters
Andies come in two flavours: lovers and fighters. All right, three flavours, because some of you Andies are worryingly good at combining the two. Many of you will remember the famous "wrestler d'amour", Casanolda the Magnificent, who was born under Androgyna Majestis and whose most famous show-stopper was his all-in tag team bout with two pole-dancing- um, sorry, I got a bit distracted there. Yes. Loving and fighting, those are your strong points, and this is a good month for seeking out those singles bars and tough-neighbourhood street corners you never tried before. True love is elusive, but there's many a plausible imitation to be had in random anonymous meetings, especially out in the back alley behind Mrs Palm's...and nothing, er, nothing else can put a healthy glow on an Andy's cheeks like a good brawl. The choice is entirely yours!
Great T'Phon's Foot 23 Nov - 21 Dec
Recommended: Soirees
Best to avoid: Book signings
Soirees. Cocktail parties. Fondue evenings. Happy Hours. Call them what you will, these sunset-lit social events are your kettle of lobsters this month. Now is the time to make the rounds, flaunt the fripperies, flash the frocks fantastic, and broach new benchmarks in the fatuous folderol of glamorous gossip and scandalous small talk! No event is too minor, no ceremonial celebration too pointless for the attentions of you large-living Footys. Have you been accused of being willing to "attend the opening of an envelope"? Prove them right by popping along to Mr von Lipwig's drinks evening to honour the issuing of the new Quirm Real stamps. Test your new wheel of Sto Helit Farmhouse Runny at a cheese 'n' wine fiesta. Seek any opportunity to display your festive Footy fashion sense. Every soiree will be your little triumph. Absolutely fabulous, darling.
Hoki the Jokester 22 Dec - 20 Jan
Recommended: Harvest or Planting festivals
Best to avoid: Gytha Ogg's cookery classes
It's that time of year again! The time when maidens run friskily and young men get their bells and hankies out and all sorts of innocent-looking things and activities take on sudden cartloads of double - and single - entendres. Hokians, though sometimes shy, also tend to be magically adept, and this is certainly your month for casting the sort of spells that would make anyone but an Ogg blush. Polish those Maypoles. Oil those threshers. Study the dark and amorous secrets of both Morris dances. Run with the horned stag ("horned" being pronounced with two syllables here) and dance sky-clad under the - why, hello, Mistress Weatherwax! Lovely to see you here! I'd quite forgot you were born under Hoki. Move along, readers, nothing to see here. Of course we can't be having with that sort of thing.
The Rather Large Gazunda 21 Jan - 18 Feb
Recommended: Baby showers
Best to avoid: A day at the races
Before the patter of little feet comes the patter of large amounts of coinage. It's no cheap or easy thing to bring up a child in today's modern society, so isn't it a good thing that baby showers are so lucrative, um, forward-looking? This month, make your friends' or relatives' baby showers Events to Remember. Come dressed in nappies. Bring the kinds of gifts that a child will find truly useful further down the Road of Life - why bother with the same old pink and blue knitted booties, cot blankets and playsuits shaped like humorous bunnies, when you could give gifts like cottage-thatching lesson vouchers, cookery books†, football boots, pre-paid medical care under the new Lawn Plan, even some of Mr Sonky's finest rubber goods...believe me, when those children grow up you'll be top of their "people to help" list during hard times. Be original!
† But not Mrs Ogg's Joye of Snacks, unless you're definitely including the rubber goods.
Lesser Umbrage 19 Feb - 20 Mar
Recommended: Anniversary parties
Best to avoid: A night at the opera
And so we come to the last Sign, and it looks like you Umbragians got the boring end of the stick: anniversary parties. But they don't have to be boring! Anniversary parties may traditionally be about bad calamari, drunken uncles, doddering grandparents and Black Uberwald Gateau, but there are many far more interesting anniversaries you could choose to celebrate. There's the anniversary of the founding of Unseen University. There's the anniversary of the passing of the Golem Rights Act. There's the anniversary of the explosion of Old Humbert, the B.S. Johnson-designed Different Engine at Grabpot Thundergust's cosmetics factory. There are anniversaries of nations and of the births of demigods and of natural disasters and even anniversaries of the unfortunate demise of the favourite pet vermine you kept rather inattentively as a child. Every day is a day of remembrance for something, so find yourself something truly amusing to celebrate. After all, someday you'll be that doddering grandparent and you won't remember what the Black Uberwald Gateau is meant to celebrate.
Saturday, January 28, 2006
January 2006
Hello again, my dear denizens of Zodiac land! This month, as we draw near to the Roundworld festival of love and romance, my good friend Count Giamo Casanunda has kindly offered me some tips on the arcane arts of love which I shall now pass on to all you prospective swains and swainesses. I can guarantee you from personal experience that those tips of his work very - what? What do you mean, what's that interesting-looking bruise on my - oi! Back off, sunshine! It's the cold showers for you! Now behave yourselves and read your horoscopes...
The Adamant Hedgehog 21 Mar - 20 Apr
They say that music is the food of love. That's largely true - though Mrs Ogg would of course point out that the food of love is also carrot and oyster pie, or chocolate surprise with special sauce - and although Hoggers tend to prefer music of the martial kind, this month would be a good time to practice those gentler strains. Why not dust off that old lute in the attic and give it a go? Tossing a few coins to your neighbourhood minstrel for some pointers wouldn't go amiss, nor would a sacrifice to Reg, god of musicians. Songs about flowers and May mornings are a winner; songs about hedgehogs are not recommended, unless you happen to be one of those kinky types who dress up in animal costumes and meet up in darkened... um, forget I said that...songs about hedgehogs are not recommended, unless your beau happens to be into that sort of thing.
Gahoolie, the Vase of Tulips 21 Apr - 21 May
Say it with flowers (or, if you're of the silicaceous persuasion, say it with ooograh). It's amazing how a posy of even the simplest blooms of the field can melt a maiden's heart; if you don't believe me, ask King Verence of Lancre. If you do want to go a bit upmarket, exotic flowers are great, erm, persuaders -- however, avoid the carnivorous varieties and especially avoid Wahoonie blossoms, no matter what Herkulous "No-nose" Peaseblossom, the notorious Florist of Gleam Street, tries to tell you. Young ladies who follow the modern fashion of giving flowers to young men are advised to not give roses, petunias or pansies, as these can give a rather mixed message. For best results have your floral gift blessed by a priestess of Sessifet, Goddess of the Afternoon.
Herne the Hunted 22 May - 21 Jun
The art of conversation can be a powerful tool in the would-be wooer, and has the advantage of gentleness. Who would woo would woo well with well-chosen words; the most innocent of conversations -- about, say, the progress of the new Quirm floral clock extension or the pleasantness of the recent weather or how there are so few perpetrators of street theatre due to the efficacy of the Patrician's prudent public policies -- can be deftly turned to subjects of a more personal nature! In fact, if you converse pleasantly and interestingly enough, the object of your amour might even be moved to suggest taking you to dinner! Best bet for your sacrifice this month: Loquacius, small god of orators.
The Wizard's Staff and Knob 22 Jun - 22 Jul
Your celestial tips this month are about food - not as if that's any surprise to you Staffies! And no, it's not just about the carrot and oyster pie. When it comes to overtures romantic, few things can beat a candlelit dinner with your best china, cut-crystal glasses, fine linen napkins, and an exquisitely prepared, lovingly served four-course meal. I know that for those of you of the wizardly persuasion, four courses may seem like a mere warm-up for a main snack, but do remember that being over-full interferes with the, you know, postprandial hijinks. Not that you wizards care about that sort of thing, eh...for those on a limited budget, slip Sham Harga a few shillings to set up his least filthy table in the back of the House of Ribs. Chip-shop takeaways will not win fair maids.
Bilious, God of Hangovers 23 Jul - 23 Aug
"Usque ad mortem per bibendum", as it says on the altar of Eructa, minor Goddess of the Tired and Emotional! A good drink loosens the inhibitions, gilds the tongue, brightens the outlook, and incidentally makes the toothless, odoursome and unsavoury look like the well and truly favoured of the gods. Exotic liqueurs can smooth the path to romance like nobody's business; thy something like Ancient Walnut Vodka Supreme or Genuine Genuan Cordial Passionelle. Bearhugger's famous Lochan Bloody Nora is another good choice - it packs a kick like a gastritic hippopotamus, though, so be warned that while your intended may swoon in your arms, getting to the next step could involve Igor-strength heart stimulants. Avoid scumble at all costs. It may be mostly apples, but there's nothing romantic about its effects. Oh, and don't forget to pack the hangover cures before you go a-hunting!
Mubbo the Hyena 24 Aug - 23 Sept
The giving of love tokens is an (artful) way to show your heart's desire to the desired heart (not that anyone much, apart from Mrs Drull, werewolves of Uberwald, and various Igors actually desire hearts; the rest of us desire... other things). Diamonds may be a girl's best friend, but even lowly Ankhstones, tastefully gift wrapped, can result in a notable increase in friendliness. So when you set out to win hearts (and... other things), remember this: the bling's the thing to bring and sling. Pearls on a string make hearts go zing and ting-a-ling; a gilded ring? - to you they'll cling; when bling you swing, love will take wing and sing, and cling! - so springs a fling. Schwing!
The Small Boring Group of Faint Stars 24 Sept - 23 Oct
It's not quite true that another name for Boring 'uns is "wallflowers", but we all know that those of you born under this sign are, well, less suited to the more, erm, energetic pressing of suits. So you'll need to start gently with the genteel art of friendship. First step: a sacrifice to Makko, the God of Confidence, and to Herne the Hunted (who, after all, looks after small, frightened creatures). Next, use your inborn ability for being unthreatening and sympathetic to become unthreatening and sympathetic. Be a good listener. Lend money readily and be slow to ask for repayment. Show willing to be awakened in the wee hours to provide a shoulder for crying on. Soon you'll have a bevy of desirables flocking to you. Of course, they'll only want you as a friend, but you're used to disappointment.
Androgyna Majestis 24 Oct - 22 Nov
Art: a great tool with which to ~cough cough~ draw an intended lover's eye! Many people underestimate the erotic power of even "polite" Art (though the sort of people who write letters of complaint to the Times are not among them...), but even the sight of a well-rendered pastoral scene or beautifully composed Still Life with Fruit can charm and captivate a swainabee's loved one. And if it's a fast track to va-va-voom you want, there's no shortage of proudly erotic Art in Ankh-Morpork! You could even try your own hand at doing Art - the traditional starving artist, complete with smeared palette, paint-spattered smock and absentminded expression, is a popular one in the romance stakes. Remember, Art imitates Life... although it's not compulsory to, f'rinstance, cut your arms off.
Great T'Phon's Foot 23 Nov - 21 Dec
Grand gestures are the stuff of legendary loves, and my little-but-large-in-experience source assures me that a little gallantry goes a long way in the wooing industry. So you Footys would do well to practise those memorable courtly gestures! On rainy days this month, be sure to wear your second-best cloak so you can handily drape it across puddles for distressed maidens and slipper'd queens (forget about maiden queens; they're rare these days and thus disinclined to let commoners suck their toes). Carve your initials together with your sweetheart's on a corner of the Patrician's palace (beware those patrolling Dark Clerks though). Skywriting love-notes is always good, but I hear Buggy Swires is charging double for that these days, and Hamish Mac Feegle can't spell, so you might have to get, um, creative. Can I interest you in an albatross?
Hoki the Jokester 22 Dec - 20 Jan
Oh, for those honeyed words of love! And what words be more honeyed than those of a lovesick poet? It's hard for a girl to resist being favourably compared to a summer's day, or for a chap not to soften when described as noble-brow'd and mighty-thew'd (especially if he's the son of a rural provisions merchant). You don't even have to write your own poetry; mark well the tale of Cyanide de Bungee-Wrecke, who won the heart of his beloved Moxine by miming under her window to poems recited by his Bardic friend. If you lack a handy Bard, try that nice Mr Dibbler in Sator Square - he's offering a knock-down price this month on slightly used sonnets. Or if you suffer from shyness, try the new Gallmark clacks service: modern love poems delivered to your sweetie's door for only a dollar each. You know it makes sense!
The Rather Large Gazunda 21 Jan - 18 Feb
If you genuinely want to score, erm, win yourself a true love this month, why not go on a Quest? Quests have all the sexy stuff: danger, adventure, romance, excitement, magic (often with a "k"), enchanted swords, Grails, meddlesome wizards, Dark Lords, barbarians, rightful Kings, witches, fell Demons, treasure hoards, the occasional geas, and sometimes even dragons! And travel; you can combine your hols with your heroism. Another advantage (apart from the winning-your-true-love bit) is that if you survive your Quest you'll never have to pay for another round in your life. But beware those really long Quests...though of course if you stay away from Civilisation for long enough, even the Orcs start looking fanciable.
Note: if your Quest involves the slaying of dragons, on no account do it at or near the Sunshine Sanctuary. The Vimeses will be bloody furious!
Lesser Umbrage 19 Feb - 20 Mar
And so we come at last to the greatest sweetheart-magnet of all: money. Money! Show them the money! Whoever said money can't buy love never lived in a town with a branch of the Seamstresses' Guild. However...of course, money alone isn't enough; it's about how you earn it and how you spend it (and do take care not to fall in love with your money yourself! Coins can't kiss you goodnight). Successful beings of all genders and species always attract admirers (they attract gold-diggers too, but as long as your gold-diggers are bearded and under three-foot-six they won't likely break your heart). Making your fortune in enterprises involving daring is a good idea - there's always an opening for a successful pirate captain or gentleperson-thief. Or you could make a killing in the futures market, although that does involve a lot of late nights and freezing cold warehouses. Try to avoid anything too risky; after all, you want to stay alive to enjoy the relationship.
The Adamant Hedgehog 21 Mar - 20 Apr
They say that music is the food of love. That's largely true - though Mrs Ogg would of course point out that the food of love is also carrot and oyster pie, or chocolate surprise with special sauce - and although Hoggers tend to prefer music of the martial kind, this month would be a good time to practice those gentler strains. Why not dust off that old lute in the attic and give it a go? Tossing a few coins to your neighbourhood minstrel for some pointers wouldn't go amiss, nor would a sacrifice to Reg, god of musicians. Songs about flowers and May mornings are a winner; songs about hedgehogs are not recommended, unless you happen to be one of those kinky types who dress up in animal costumes and meet up in darkened... um, forget I said that...songs about hedgehogs are not recommended, unless your beau happens to be into that sort of thing.
Gahoolie, the Vase of Tulips 21 Apr - 21 May
Say it with flowers (or, if you're of the silicaceous persuasion, say it with ooograh). It's amazing how a posy of even the simplest blooms of the field can melt a maiden's heart; if you don't believe me, ask King Verence of Lancre. If you do want to go a bit upmarket, exotic flowers are great, erm, persuaders -- however, avoid the carnivorous varieties and especially avoid Wahoonie blossoms, no matter what Herkulous "No-nose" Peaseblossom, the notorious Florist of Gleam Street, tries to tell you. Young ladies who follow the modern fashion of giving flowers to young men are advised to not give roses, petunias or pansies, as these can give a rather mixed message. For best results have your floral gift blessed by a priestess of Sessifet, Goddess of the Afternoon.
Herne the Hunted 22 May - 21 Jun
The art of conversation can be a powerful tool in the would-be wooer, and has the advantage of gentleness. Who would woo would woo well with well-chosen words; the most innocent of conversations -- about, say, the progress of the new Quirm floral clock extension or the pleasantness of the recent weather or how there are so few perpetrators of street theatre due to the efficacy of the Patrician's prudent public policies -- can be deftly turned to subjects of a more personal nature! In fact, if you converse pleasantly and interestingly enough, the object of your amour might even be moved to suggest taking you to dinner! Best bet for your sacrifice this month: Loquacius, small god of orators.
The Wizard's Staff and Knob 22 Jun - 22 Jul
Your celestial tips this month are about food - not as if that's any surprise to you Staffies! And no, it's not just about the carrot and oyster pie. When it comes to overtures romantic, few things can beat a candlelit dinner with your best china, cut-crystal glasses, fine linen napkins, and an exquisitely prepared, lovingly served four-course meal. I know that for those of you of the wizardly persuasion, four courses may seem like a mere warm-up for a main snack, but do remember that being over-full interferes with the, you know, postprandial hijinks. Not that you wizards care about that sort of thing, eh...for those on a limited budget, slip Sham Harga a few shillings to set up his least filthy table in the back of the House of Ribs. Chip-shop takeaways will not win fair maids.
Bilious, God of Hangovers 23 Jul - 23 Aug
"Usque ad mortem per bibendum", as it says on the altar of Eructa, minor Goddess of the Tired and Emotional! A good drink loosens the inhibitions, gilds the tongue, brightens the outlook, and incidentally makes the toothless, odoursome and unsavoury look like the well and truly favoured of the gods. Exotic liqueurs can smooth the path to romance like nobody's business; thy something like Ancient Walnut Vodka Supreme or Genuine Genuan Cordial Passionelle. Bearhugger's famous Lochan Bloody Nora is another good choice - it packs a kick like a gastritic hippopotamus, though, so be warned that while your intended may swoon in your arms, getting to the next step could involve Igor-strength heart stimulants. Avoid scumble at all costs. It may be mostly apples, but there's nothing romantic about its effects. Oh, and don't forget to pack the hangover cures before you go a-hunting!
Mubbo the Hyena 24 Aug - 23 Sept
The giving of love tokens is an (artful) way to show your heart's desire to the desired heart (not that anyone much, apart from Mrs Drull, werewolves of Uberwald, and various Igors actually desire hearts; the rest of us desire... other things). Diamonds may be a girl's best friend, but even lowly Ankhstones, tastefully gift wrapped, can result in a notable increase in friendliness. So when you set out to win hearts (and... other things), remember this: the bling's the thing to bring and sling. Pearls on a string make hearts go zing and ting-a-ling; a gilded ring? - to you they'll cling; when bling you swing, love will take wing and sing, and cling! - so springs a fling. Schwing!
The Small Boring Group of Faint Stars 24 Sept - 23 Oct
It's not quite true that another name for Boring 'uns is "wallflowers", but we all know that those of you born under this sign are, well, less suited to the more, erm, energetic pressing of suits. So you'll need to start gently with the genteel art of friendship. First step: a sacrifice to Makko, the God of Confidence, and to Herne the Hunted (who, after all, looks after small, frightened creatures). Next, use your inborn ability for being unthreatening and sympathetic to become unthreatening and sympathetic. Be a good listener. Lend money readily and be slow to ask for repayment. Show willing to be awakened in the wee hours to provide a shoulder for crying on. Soon you'll have a bevy of desirables flocking to you. Of course, they'll only want you as a friend, but you're used to disappointment.
Androgyna Majestis 24 Oct - 22 Nov
Art: a great tool with which to ~cough cough~ draw an intended lover's eye! Many people underestimate the erotic power of even "polite" Art (though the sort of people who write letters of complaint to the Times are not among them...), but even the sight of a well-rendered pastoral scene or beautifully composed Still Life with Fruit can charm and captivate a swainabee's loved one. And if it's a fast track to va-va-voom you want, there's no shortage of proudly erotic Art in Ankh-Morpork! You could even try your own hand at doing Art - the traditional starving artist, complete with smeared palette, paint-spattered smock and absentminded expression, is a popular one in the romance stakes. Remember, Art imitates Life... although it's not compulsory to, f'rinstance, cut your arms off.
Great T'Phon's Foot 23 Nov - 21 Dec
Grand gestures are the stuff of legendary loves, and my little-but-large-in-experience source assures me that a little gallantry goes a long way in the wooing industry. So you Footys would do well to practise those memorable courtly gestures! On rainy days this month, be sure to wear your second-best cloak so you can handily drape it across puddles for distressed maidens and slipper'd queens (forget about maiden queens; they're rare these days and thus disinclined to let commoners suck their toes). Carve your initials together with your sweetheart's on a corner of the Patrician's palace (beware those patrolling Dark Clerks though). Skywriting love-notes is always good, but I hear Buggy Swires is charging double for that these days, and Hamish Mac Feegle can't spell, so you might have to get, um, creative. Can I interest you in an albatross?
Hoki the Jokester 22 Dec - 20 Jan
Oh, for those honeyed words of love! And what words be more honeyed than those of a lovesick poet? It's hard for a girl to resist being favourably compared to a summer's day, or for a chap not to soften when described as noble-brow'd and mighty-thew'd (especially if he's the son of a rural provisions merchant). You don't even have to write your own poetry; mark well the tale of Cyanide de Bungee-Wrecke, who won the heart of his beloved Moxine by miming under her window to poems recited by his Bardic friend. If you lack a handy Bard, try that nice Mr Dibbler in Sator Square - he's offering a knock-down price this month on slightly used sonnets. Or if you suffer from shyness, try the new Gallmark clacks service: modern love poems delivered to your sweetie's door for only a dollar each. You know it makes sense!
The Rather Large Gazunda 21 Jan - 18 Feb
If you genuinely want to score, erm, win yourself a true love this month, why not go on a Quest? Quests have all the sexy stuff: danger, adventure, romance, excitement, magic (often with a "k"), enchanted swords, Grails, meddlesome wizards, Dark Lords, barbarians, rightful Kings, witches, fell Demons, treasure hoards, the occasional geas, and sometimes even dragons! And travel; you can combine your hols with your heroism. Another advantage (apart from the winning-your-true-love bit) is that if you survive your Quest you'll never have to pay for another round in your life. But beware those really long Quests...though of course if you stay away from Civilisation for long enough, even the Orcs start looking fanciable.
Note: if your Quest involves the slaying of dragons, on no account do it at or near the Sunshine Sanctuary. The Vimeses will be bloody furious!
Lesser Umbrage 19 Feb - 20 Mar
And so we come at last to the greatest sweetheart-magnet of all: money. Money! Show them the money! Whoever said money can't buy love never lived in a town with a branch of the Seamstresses' Guild. However...of course, money alone isn't enough; it's about how you earn it and how you spend it (and do take care not to fall in love with your money yourself! Coins can't kiss you goodnight). Successful beings of all genders and species always attract admirers (they attract gold-diggers too, but as long as your gold-diggers are bearded and under three-foot-six they won't likely break your heart). Making your fortune in enterprises involving daring is a good idea - there's always an opening for a successful pirate captain or gentleperson-thief. Or you could make a killing in the futures market, although that does involve a lot of late nights and freezing cold warehouses. Try to avoid anything too risky; after all, you want to stay alive to enjoy the relationship.
Saturday, December 31, 2005
December 2005
Yes, my astroillogical possums, it's that time again! It hardly seems like it's been a whole year since last Hogswatch, does it? I myself only took down my sausage garlands and mistletoe last week - well, the garlands I left up because they'd become too feral to get near without lion-taming equipment after the first month, and the mistletoe I left up because you never know when you might need it. This year I've spared no expense to travel the Disc, seeking out well-known Personalities born under each Sign and asking them how they plan to be spending Hogswatch; some of them even deigned to answer me, and some of the answers were printable! So grab your star charts, your Great A'Tuin piñatas and your favourite hangover cures and par-tayyy...
The Adamant Hedgehog 21 Mar - 20 Apr
Cheery Littlebottom: "I'm going to spend Hogswatch in Uberwald this year as a guest of the Low King. I'm so excited! We're going to sort tailings from the new silver mines - sometimes it's nice to get back to cosy traditional things, you know - and there's even a rumour that sh-, I mean he might have a Music With Rocks In disco in the Disused Shaft Club down in Old Number 22. Beats working with smelly chemicals and smellier dead bodies, I can tell you!"
His Grace Samuel Vimes, Duke of Ankh: "This year will be our first true family Hogswatch since our Mam, erm, since. No more shouting across the Ramkin banquetting table while Willikins serves like a silent Thief. No, this year we'll have all the party games and the crackers and the proper festivities, because I want my son to remember every Hogswatch as a joyful time when his father is home all day and no-one dies horribly on the doorstep. Nothing's too good for my Sam."
Mrs Evadne Cake: "Hogswatch will've been a laugh this year. We'll've had mince pies - with minced pork, of course - and roast suckling pig and some of that nice Mr Dibbler's sausages. Ludmilla and her young man will've done great at Charades, and young Mr Shoe from the Watch will've dropped by with a nice card from Lugubri's sorry-for-yer-loss shop. But I have to say that next Hogswatch was even better."
Sergeant Jackrum: "Upon my oath, I'm not a Hogswatch man. I'd sooner spend that day drinking and telling battle stories down the pub. Any pub. But this year, as a special concession to my Little Lads, I'm going to spend Hogswatch in the old traditional Borogravian way - fasting, reading the Book of Nuggan aloud in a sober voice, and toasting the health of the Duchess in mineral water. That's what I'm telling the Ruperts anyway!" And if you believe that, you'd make a good soldier."
Gahoolie, the Vase of Tulips 21 Apr - 21 May
Reginald Shoe: "Of course I won't be following all those vital people's traditions, because we postvitals don't eat pork products, or any kind of products. No, we rejoice in being by-products. Every Hogswatch the Fresh Start Club gives Ankh-Morpork and the wider Disc the best present of all, by not adding to the population problem. But I do try to keep an open mind, so I'll be participating in some of the less politically-incorrect party games and Hogswatch carolling. Oh, and I intend to pay a social call on Mrs Cake and bring her a card, but that's going to be a surprise."
Mustrum Ridcully: "This Hogswatch, I'll be going hunting. I intend to bag a boar, a stag and a brace of pheasants, then get Mrs Whitlow to stuff the pheasants in the boar and the boar in the stag and roast them with plenty of Wow-Wow sauce. That should make a fine little snack to start off our Hogswatch Breakfast. The Dean wants us to play Charades, but I've warned him that he is under no circumstances allowed to try acting out Beti the Exotic Dancer again."
Hughnon Ridcully: "Hogswatch is at heart a solemn time, a time to ponder on the ineffable ways of the gods and the marvels and miracles of the world around us, a time for abstinence and contemplation, a time of joy to all men. Oh, all right, and to all Golems. Yes, and other sentient species. Very well. I shall be reading the Hogswatch Service in Small Gods myself this year. After that? I hear Mustrum's doing a spot of hunting...abstinence is a state of mind, after all."
C.M.O.T. Dibbler: "I've got just the thing for you this Hogswatch - the finest quality cuddly toys! Fluffy scale-model cuddlies of Slasher, Gouger, Tusker and Rooter. Totally lifelike! And when you pull their hidden strings, they widdle and grunt! Just AM$9.99, and that's cutting my own throat! And can I interest you in a Sonky and Sons life-sized inflatable Hogfather? String of papier-mâché sausages? And of course there's the inimitable Dibbler's Festive Hogswatch Sausages Inna Bun and Holiday Pork (Probably) Pies. Buy one! Buy two! You know it makes sense!"
Herne the Hunted 22 May - 21 Jun
Mrs Rosie Palm: "Every Hogswatch, my girls and I spare no effort to get into the festive spirit. Of course we're great supporters of pork products - especially, erm, sausages - and we're quite enthusiastic about dances, especially private ones, and wassailing. And mistletoe. Oh, and Charades. My youngest, most attractive girls will be dressing as Hogswatch presents. And I'm sure you know we're very keen on presents that come in stockings..."
Susan Sto Helit: "I don't hold with all that holiday rubbish, but I suppose I can stretch to dropping in on Grandfather for a cup of Albert's fried porridge. Just so long as Grandfather and that rat don't try to make me play Charades."
Tiffany Aching: "This Hogswatch I intend to work very hard on my holiday cheeses. Mistress Ogg has invited me up to her town to teach me the mysteries of the famous Lancre Blue cheese. I'm a bit worried about the way she says 'Blue' though. And about her telling me to bring a heavy leather apron and chain mail. Leather and chain mail for cheesemaking? Perhaps I should bring a frying pan as well, just to be safe."
The Abbot of the History Monks: "To a Yen Buddhist History Monk, all Days are as one day grzzlewaaah!, so we don't celebrate Hogswatch. Of course, if you look at it another way, every day is Hogswatch, but we don't eat pork wannapottywannapottynow! and that much sherry would give me terrible wind. I plan to spend your Hogswatch Day drinking hot yak-butter tea with my favourite Yetis, and shouting at the novices wannawannawannaBIKKIT!"
The Wizard's Staff and Knob 22 Jun - 22 Jul
William de Worde: "Has the Hogfather (age unknown) been secretly suffering a debilitating illness? Reports from various sources indicate that, on his Hogswatchnight outing last year, he was seen to appear considerably thinner - 'Almost like a skellington,' said Arthur Nougat (5) of No. 21 The Lane, Little Scullings. There's also the disturbing mystery of 'Albert the Elf', the Hogfather's new assistant; Mrs Elsie Gubbins (62) of Dolly Sisters claims she saw this personage smoking, swearing, scratching himself inappropriately and stealing festive pork pies. Is that the sort of influence we want our children subjected to at this sacrosanct time of year? The public should be told the truth."
Mrs Whitlow: "Polly, Dolly, Molly and H'ai shall be h'engaged in the making of the usual wagonloads of pork pies, mince pies, sausages and roast suckling pigs for the Faculty Hogswatch parties. We shan't have time to 'party', there's too much to be done. H'ai don't hold with this Hogswatch carousing h'anyways. There's far too much drinking, and those Charades can get pretty riskey. Or so H'aive heard. Hmph."
Gytha Ogg: "Our Dreen says she's ordered me one of those ex-o-teek palm trees from Klatch, to put next to the fireplace this Hogswatch Eve. That won't half confuse the Hogfather when he comes down my chimney! Of course, they don't celebrate Hogswatchnight out in Klatch, they decorate their camels instead and do the Dance of the Seven Veils. My second husband used to love me doing the Dance of the Seven Veils. He said I was the most erratic woman in all Lancre - spelling was never his strong point. But he certainly had a strong point...I've invited young Tiffany up to visit as well, going to give her some tips on cheesemaking. Fine young lass, though maybe a bit too serious. I may give her the palm tree - then she'll never lack for dates."
Mrs Marietta Cosmopilite: "I'll be locking my door this Hogswatch. I'm sick to the back teeth of all those little yellow men wandering in and sitting at my feet and taking down everything I say. One of them called me 'great sage' last year. Now I ask you, do I look like a kitchen herb? Some people ought to get out more in the fresh air, I tell you."
Bilious, God of Hangovers 23 Jul - 23 Aug
Dr Dinwiddie, Bursar of UU: "The Archchancellor's going to let me have cutlery! And Distressed Pudding! Wheee!"
HRH Magrat de Lancre: "In the ancient days, when folk were ancient and had far more folk wisdom than the kind of unwise folk we get these days, Hogswatch was all about the death and rebirth of the land, about the affirmation of ancient rituals and paying respects to the earth and to the gods. Now people seem to think it's all just about getting drunk and singing rude songs, and Charades, and who's got the biggest pork pie. I think that's a shame. I made Verence make a proclamation about it, but Shawn Ogg couldn't read it out in the town square because he was too drunk and he'd sprained his ankle acting out the Dance of the Seven Veils during Charades at Nanny's."
C.W.St.J. (Nobby) Nobbs: "I'll be practising traditional Ankh-Morpork folkways for Hogswatch. Why are you looking at me like that? Nothing wrong with traditional folkways. Nothing wrong with hankies; useful things, hankies. And bells. And athletic pursuits outdoors in the fresh smog, erm, air. I might meet Fred Colon for a smoke later in the day. He always tells the missus we're going carolling, and she always falls for it. Good woman, that Mrs Fred."
Agnes Nitt: "Hogswatch is all about giving, and sharing, and putting up with insults from one's family. And desserts, of course. But not mistletoe. Never mistletoe. I'll be carolling again this year, too. They even pay me, because they say my being able to sing two parts at once saves on rehearsal expenses."
Mubbo the Hyena 24 Aug - 23 Sept
HRH Verence II de Lancre: "This year, I've decreed an old-fashioned, traditional Hogswatch festival in Lancre Town. There will be sausage bobbing, black pudding pitching, a bonfire, and humorous paper hats for all our subjects. I've tasked Shawn Ogg with setting up a tree recycling collection - can't overestimate the importance of recycling in these enlightened times. I wanted to have Mrs Ogg as our festival traditions consultant since she knows so much about ancient neglected folkways, but Magrat, I mean Her Royal Highness, says Nanny Ogg's traditions are the sort that ought to stay neglected. Oh, and we've sent to Slice for their famous weasel juggler."
Sgt Fred Colon: "Mrs Colon will be making all the traditional Hogswatch foods. We'll eat and drink even more than usual, pull our crackers, play Charades, and then listen to the town criers reading out the Patrician's Speech. Nobby's threatened to drop by later, so we might arrange to go out for a smoke, I mean for carolling. Hopefully no-one will steal the Brass Bridge while I'm on holidays."
Twoflower of Agatea: "Your Hogswatch holiday is so fascinating! So many unusual and exciting activities! I especially like the noble game you call 'Charades', and the exploding crackers with their sage and humorous slogans - very like our misfortune cookies. I intend to don your traditional paper hat, sit on the Hogfather's lap, and kiss him under the mistletoe. And I shall sit up late and eat pork pies with sherry, and wrap presents, and ask total strangers if they've been naughty or nice. I've bought extra paint for my iconograph imps to capture every moment of the festive season!"
Tomjon Vitoller: "I'll be appearing as the Ghost of Hogswatch Past, Present and Yet to Come in Hwel's new play 'Carol Does Hogswatch'. Some weasel juggler from Slice tried to hire me to impersonate him at the Lancre Hogswatch Festival - apparently he's double-booked - but I think I've seen enough of Lancre to last a lifetime."
The Small Boring Group of Faint Stars 24 Sept - 23 Oct
Rincewind: "I intend to stay locked in my study, where I will do quiet, safe, unthreatening things and eat a big plate of steaming potatoes. No sausages for me, they look too dangerous. And I'm certainly not coming out for Charades, no matter what the Dean says."
Constable Washpot Visit: We followers of the great Om don't hold with the pagan frivolities of the unbelievers. The so-called Hogswatch Day, and every day, is for us a time of prayer and contemplation and haranguing all unbelievers to forsake their heathen ways and join the Church of Om. Can I interest you in some educational pamphlets?"
Ponder Stibbons: "We're throwing a little party for Hex this Hogswatch, since he's been working so hard all year. I know Hex is only a machine, but this is a magical University after all, and more and more he - it - acts like a person. Rather like the Bursar, actually. Hex printed us out a Hogswatch card last night, and made the following request, at least I think it's a request: ++ I POSTULATE THAT IT IS POSSIBLE TO PLAY CHARADES IN A TEXT-BASED MEDIUM. NEED MORE CHEESE, A DUNGEON, AND A BAG OF HOLDING++ - we'll be looking into that. Hex also managed to somehow send a clacks to Hung Lo's Klatchian Pizzeria, ordering 50 large Tropical Hots with extra Wow-Wow sauce. See? Just like the Bursar."
Stanley of the Post Office: "We have a new special-issue Hogswatch stamp! In two sizes! These are offered in both domestic and foreign denominations and are produced to the highest standard, using vegetable-based paints of my own manufacture. The half-dollar stamps feature a new portrait of Lord Vetinari, specially commissioned, by Leonard of Quirm, and the tenpence stamps are available as a series of reproduced illustrations from the popular children's book 'Where's My Cow?'. These are not-to-be-missed collector's items! Ask me about stamps today! I'll be working at the Post Office all through Hogswatch, of course."
Androgyna Majestis 24 Oct - 22 Nov
Otto Chriek: "I vill stay home und polish my iconograph lenses, und feed zer imps und zer salamanders. Und not drink zer blood. On no account vill I drink zer blood. Back in Uberwald, ve haff zer blood sausages, und zer blood pudding, und zer...um, I zink I vill go haff a little lie-down now, excuse me."
Mrs Vena McGarry: "I just don't know what I'll do with myself now that the lads have buggered off to another realm of pillage and plunder. Things have been dreadfully quiet ever since. I might drop in on Mrs War and help her with the new batch of massage oil and bunion creams, but probably I'll just stay home and knit broadsword scabbards for the grandchildren."
The Dean of UU: "Charades! Pork pies! Cracker-pulling! And even bigger than usual dinners! And Ridcully's agreed to let me lead the paintball battle! Yes! Hut! Yo!"
Carrot Ironfoundersson: "Angua and I will be ski-ing in the Uberwald Alps this Hogswatch. I suggested we drop in on her parents, but for some reason she said she'd rather visit the dwarf bread museum at Copperhead, or dive headfirst into a vat of boiling oil. I think she was displaying sarcasm."
Great T'Phon's Foot 23 Nov - 21 Dec
Her Grace Sybil, Duchess of Ankh: "This is the first Hogswatch young Sam will be old enough to remember, so we'll be pushing the boat out to make it a memorable one. We'll have carols by dragonlight, and pork pies - he's on solid foods now, isn't he clever? - and sausages a la Genua, and paper hats with the Ramkin crest on them. I've made sure my husband understands that our son has to have one day when his father is home all day and no-one dies horribly on the doorstep. Nothing's too good for my Sams."
The Great Gaspode: "I'll be doin' a spot o' seasonal begging wiv my human pet Foul Ole Ron. Well, some say he's human. Myself, I'm not so sure. I've met Scoone Avenue poodles more human than Ron. Still, it always helps to have a pet human onna leash, people seem to dig deeper in their pockets for a double act. Oh, and we'll be begging at the Palace kitchens on St Furtive's Day. They're always good for a sausage or two, so long as we promise not to sing carols at them."
Leonard of Quirm: "Oh, is it Hogswatch again? How time flies, it seems like barely a year ago that I had built a chimney-widening apparatus to allow fathers to more easily pretend to be Hogfathers, and incidentally also prise open the walls of castles and fortresses. This year, I shall be finishing my device for using rays of invisible light to cook food very quickly from the inside out. I call it the Cooking Food From The Inside Out With Rays Of Invisible Light Very Quickly Device. Surely no-one would ever think of using it for something so terrible as cooking people very quickly from the inside out. Er, happy Hogswatch!"
Seldom Bucket: "A quiet holiday. Plenty of cheese. No stress. And no opera. Especially no opera."
Hoki the Jokester 22 Dec - 20 Jan
Mrs Erzulie Gogol: "I'll be making my special Hogswatch jambalaya, so's I can have a look at what's goin' to happen in the next year. Young miss Ella says she'll be dropping round for a visit an' a snack on the day. She invited me to the palace, but I declined. After all, I can't afford to be seen lowering my standards."
Esmerelda Weatherwax: "Traditional Hogswatch celebrations? Cuddly Hogfather dolls? Load o' rubbish. I've met the Hogfather and I can tell you he's not even a little bit cuddly. Hogswatch is an important time for witches - keeping the real old traditions - and there's nothing cuddly about those either. And as for paper hats and Charades, I can't be having with that sort of thing."
Lord Havelock Vetinari: "In honour of the festive nature of the day, I shall take an entire thirty minutes off from scrutinising and ruling the city, and consider one glass of wine with my bread and water. For sheer indulgence, I shall read the entire score of Fondel's 'Underwater Music'. One must accept a modicum of frivolity at least one day of the year, especially on the part of others, so I shall give Drumknott an hour off. Don't let me stop you leaving, madam."
Moist von Lipwig: "I was thinking of dropping round to the Golem Trust to ask Miss Dearheart if she wants to go watch the carollers in Sator Square with me. I've taken the precaution of buying six cartons of Klatchian Kools cigarettes, an armload of Higgs & Meakins finest chocolates, and some mistletoe. Does anyone know how to buy off a Golem chaperon?
The Rather Large Gazunda 21 Jan - 18 Feb
Lu-Tze the Sweeper: Is it not said that to every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under heaven? Not that I'd know, but I can tell you that each day is the same as every other one when there's sweeping to be done. It's not like sweepers get time off, you know. Especially on public holidays, when people are partying and making even more rubbish than usual. For is it not said that many hands make light work?"
Count Giamo Casanunda: "Mistletoe. Hogswatch is definitely all about the mistletoe. So, what's a lovely lady like yourself doing out working alone on Hogswatch, when you could be sharing the delights of the language of love with a willing admirer like, say, the world's second greatest lover? Have you ever eaten oysters? Or watched the moonrise over Cori Celesti from a secluded bower? Mmm?"
Conina: "Mmm, wild boar. Roast wild boar. See these hairdressing scissors? I can carve a roast wild boar - or a live one - into perfect portions in twenty seconds flat. And Io help anyone who gets within three feet of me with a paper hat. Herrydeterrity is so embarrassing..."
Angua von Uberwald: "I'll be ski-ing with my...friend Carrot, and enjoying a vegetarian meal. I certainly won't be spending time with my family. I wanted to stay on duty for the Hogswatch season - crime is rife when the dog's away - but Carrot can be very persuasive. And at least he's not the sort to commit, er, indulge in Charades."
Lesser Umbrage 19 Feb - 20 Mar
Rob Anybody Mac Feegle: "Aye, 'tis Hogswatch, right enough. Me an' the lads'll be oot giein' ship beasties an' Sassenachs a face full o' heid, and havin' a sip o' the auld Special Sheep Liniment. An' stealin', o'course. Wouldn't be Hogswatch wi'out the stealin'. I've commissioned, that's one o' them lawyer words, our gonnagle t' make an extrrra special Hogswatch poem in honour of Kelda Jeannie. Accomp'nied by mousepipes, o'course - it's been a while since the burrow had a good clean-out o' vermin. As for thet Hogfather - crivens, we Feegle don't take kindly to the housebreakin' unless it's us what's doin' it. If he dares shinny down our chimney, we'll gie him a kickin' he'll not soon forget!"
Jason Ogg: "I be decorating our Mam's house for Hogswatch, same as always, and forging some new strings for her banjo. And I always take time on Hogswatch to do a little shoeing job for a very special customer. It ain't easy shoeing boars, but I've got Duties."
Dr "Mossy" Lawn: "Holiday celebrations? As if! Hogswatch is my busiest time of year, what with all the cases of alcohol poisoning, the knife and bludgeon wounds, the frostbitten carollers, the unsuccessful suicides...not to mention all the embarrassing injuries sustained from playing Charades. And young fathers suffering from burns and soot inhalation after attempting to convince their children that the Hogfather really can fit down a chimney. And the jolly uncles with lampshades stuck on their heads. And don't get me started on the body parts I have to extract mistletoe from! But I will be cooking a Hogswatch goose in the surgical sterilising cauldron, though Cori Celesti knows when I'll get time to actually eat it."
Igor: "All I want for Hogthwatch ith my two front teeth. And a few thetth of thpareth. And a couple of new kidneyth. Mind you, the old one'th I got from my Uncle Igor are thill functhioning exthellently. I'd love to do thome thurgery experimenth on the Hogfather; I thuthpect that grafting thome of the flying pig partth onto him would make deliverieth of prethentth eathier and fathter..."
The Adamant Hedgehog 21 Mar - 20 Apr
Cheery Littlebottom: "I'm going to spend Hogswatch in Uberwald this year as a guest of the Low King. I'm so excited! We're going to sort tailings from the new silver mines - sometimes it's nice to get back to cosy traditional things, you know - and there's even a rumour that sh-, I mean he might have a Music With Rocks In disco in the Disused Shaft Club down in Old Number 22. Beats working with smelly chemicals and smellier dead bodies, I can tell you!"
His Grace Samuel Vimes, Duke of Ankh: "This year will be our first true family Hogswatch since our Mam, erm, since. No more shouting across the Ramkin banquetting table while Willikins serves like a silent Thief. No, this year we'll have all the party games and the crackers and the proper festivities, because I want my son to remember every Hogswatch as a joyful time when his father is home all day and no-one dies horribly on the doorstep. Nothing's too good for my Sam."
Mrs Evadne Cake: "Hogswatch will've been a laugh this year. We'll've had mince pies - with minced pork, of course - and roast suckling pig and some of that nice Mr Dibbler's sausages. Ludmilla and her young man will've done great at Charades, and young Mr Shoe from the Watch will've dropped by with a nice card from Lugubri's sorry-for-yer-loss shop. But I have to say that next Hogswatch was even better."
Sergeant Jackrum: "Upon my oath, I'm not a Hogswatch man. I'd sooner spend that day drinking and telling battle stories down the pub. Any pub. But this year, as a special concession to my Little Lads, I'm going to spend Hogswatch in the old traditional Borogravian way - fasting, reading the Book of Nuggan aloud in a sober voice, and toasting the health of the Duchess in mineral water. That's what I'm telling the Ruperts anyway!" And if you believe that, you'd make a good soldier."
Gahoolie, the Vase of Tulips 21 Apr - 21 May
Reginald Shoe: "Of course I won't be following all those vital people's traditions, because we postvitals don't eat pork products, or any kind of products. No, we rejoice in being by-products. Every Hogswatch the Fresh Start Club gives Ankh-Morpork and the wider Disc the best present of all, by not adding to the population problem. But I do try to keep an open mind, so I'll be participating in some of the less politically-incorrect party games and Hogswatch carolling. Oh, and I intend to pay a social call on Mrs Cake and bring her a card, but that's going to be a surprise."
Mustrum Ridcully: "This Hogswatch, I'll be going hunting. I intend to bag a boar, a stag and a brace of pheasants, then get Mrs Whitlow to stuff the pheasants in the boar and the boar in the stag and roast them with plenty of Wow-Wow sauce. That should make a fine little snack to start off our Hogswatch Breakfast. The Dean wants us to play Charades, but I've warned him that he is under no circumstances allowed to try acting out Beti the Exotic Dancer again."
Hughnon Ridcully: "Hogswatch is at heart a solemn time, a time to ponder on the ineffable ways of the gods and the marvels and miracles of the world around us, a time for abstinence and contemplation, a time of joy to all men. Oh, all right, and to all Golems. Yes, and other sentient species. Very well. I shall be reading the Hogswatch Service in Small Gods myself this year. After that? I hear Mustrum's doing a spot of hunting...abstinence is a state of mind, after all."
C.M.O.T. Dibbler: "I've got just the thing for you this Hogswatch - the finest quality cuddly toys! Fluffy scale-model cuddlies of Slasher, Gouger, Tusker and Rooter. Totally lifelike! And when you pull their hidden strings, they widdle and grunt! Just AM$9.99, and that's cutting my own throat! And can I interest you in a Sonky and Sons life-sized inflatable Hogfather? String of papier-mâché sausages? And of course there's the inimitable Dibbler's Festive Hogswatch Sausages Inna Bun and Holiday Pork (Probably) Pies. Buy one! Buy two! You know it makes sense!"
Herne the Hunted 22 May - 21 Jun
Mrs Rosie Palm: "Every Hogswatch, my girls and I spare no effort to get into the festive spirit. Of course we're great supporters of pork products - especially, erm, sausages - and we're quite enthusiastic about dances, especially private ones, and wassailing. And mistletoe. Oh, and Charades. My youngest, most attractive girls will be dressing as Hogswatch presents. And I'm sure you know we're very keen on presents that come in stockings..."
Susan Sto Helit: "I don't hold with all that holiday rubbish, but I suppose I can stretch to dropping in on Grandfather for a cup of Albert's fried porridge. Just so long as Grandfather and that rat don't try to make me play Charades."
Tiffany Aching: "This Hogswatch I intend to work very hard on my holiday cheeses. Mistress Ogg has invited me up to her town to teach me the mysteries of the famous Lancre Blue cheese. I'm a bit worried about the way she says 'Blue' though. And about her telling me to bring a heavy leather apron and chain mail. Leather and chain mail for cheesemaking? Perhaps I should bring a frying pan as well, just to be safe."
The Abbot of the History Monks: "To a Yen Buddhist History Monk, all Days are as one day grzzlewaaah!, so we don't celebrate Hogswatch. Of course, if you look at it another way, every day is Hogswatch, but we don't eat pork wannapottywannapottynow! and that much sherry would give me terrible wind. I plan to spend your Hogswatch Day drinking hot yak-butter tea with my favourite Yetis, and shouting at the novices wannawannawannaBIKKIT!"
The Wizard's Staff and Knob 22 Jun - 22 Jul
William de Worde: "Has the Hogfather (age unknown) been secretly suffering a debilitating illness? Reports from various sources indicate that, on his Hogswatchnight outing last year, he was seen to appear considerably thinner - 'Almost like a skellington,' said Arthur Nougat (5) of No. 21 The Lane, Little Scullings. There's also the disturbing mystery of 'Albert the Elf', the Hogfather's new assistant; Mrs Elsie Gubbins (62) of Dolly Sisters claims she saw this personage smoking, swearing, scratching himself inappropriately and stealing festive pork pies. Is that the sort of influence we want our children subjected to at this sacrosanct time of year? The public should be told the truth."
Mrs Whitlow: "Polly, Dolly, Molly and H'ai shall be h'engaged in the making of the usual wagonloads of pork pies, mince pies, sausages and roast suckling pigs for the Faculty Hogswatch parties. We shan't have time to 'party', there's too much to be done. H'ai don't hold with this Hogswatch carousing h'anyways. There's far too much drinking, and those Charades can get pretty riskey. Or so H'aive heard. Hmph."
Gytha Ogg: "Our Dreen says she's ordered me one of those ex-o-teek palm trees from Klatch, to put next to the fireplace this Hogswatch Eve. That won't half confuse the Hogfather when he comes down my chimney! Of course, they don't celebrate Hogswatchnight out in Klatch, they decorate their camels instead and do the Dance of the Seven Veils. My second husband used to love me doing the Dance of the Seven Veils. He said I was the most erratic woman in all Lancre - spelling was never his strong point. But he certainly had a strong point...I've invited young Tiffany up to visit as well, going to give her some tips on cheesemaking. Fine young lass, though maybe a bit too serious. I may give her the palm tree - then she'll never lack for dates."
Mrs Marietta Cosmopilite: "I'll be locking my door this Hogswatch. I'm sick to the back teeth of all those little yellow men wandering in and sitting at my feet and taking down everything I say. One of them called me 'great sage' last year. Now I ask you, do I look like a kitchen herb? Some people ought to get out more in the fresh air, I tell you."
Bilious, God of Hangovers 23 Jul - 23 Aug
Dr Dinwiddie, Bursar of UU: "The Archchancellor's going to let me have cutlery! And Distressed Pudding! Wheee!"
HRH Magrat de Lancre: "In the ancient days, when folk were ancient and had far more folk wisdom than the kind of unwise folk we get these days, Hogswatch was all about the death and rebirth of the land, about the affirmation of ancient rituals and paying respects to the earth and to the gods. Now people seem to think it's all just about getting drunk and singing rude songs, and Charades, and who's got the biggest pork pie. I think that's a shame. I made Verence make a proclamation about it, but Shawn Ogg couldn't read it out in the town square because he was too drunk and he'd sprained his ankle acting out the Dance of the Seven Veils during Charades at Nanny's."
C.W.St.J. (Nobby) Nobbs: "I'll be practising traditional Ankh-Morpork folkways for Hogswatch. Why are you looking at me like that? Nothing wrong with traditional folkways. Nothing wrong with hankies; useful things, hankies. And bells. And athletic pursuits outdoors in the fresh smog, erm, air. I might meet Fred Colon for a smoke later in the day. He always tells the missus we're going carolling, and she always falls for it. Good woman, that Mrs Fred."
Agnes Nitt: "Hogswatch is all about giving, and sharing, and putting up with insults from one's family. And desserts, of course. But not mistletoe. Never mistletoe. I'll be carolling again this year, too. They even pay me, because they say my being able to sing two parts at once saves on rehearsal expenses."
Mubbo the Hyena 24 Aug - 23 Sept
HRH Verence II de Lancre: "This year, I've decreed an old-fashioned, traditional Hogswatch festival in Lancre Town. There will be sausage bobbing, black pudding pitching, a bonfire, and humorous paper hats for all our subjects. I've tasked Shawn Ogg with setting up a tree recycling collection - can't overestimate the importance of recycling in these enlightened times. I wanted to have Mrs Ogg as our festival traditions consultant since she knows so much about ancient neglected folkways, but Magrat, I mean Her Royal Highness, says Nanny Ogg's traditions are the sort that ought to stay neglected. Oh, and we've sent to Slice for their famous weasel juggler."
Sgt Fred Colon: "Mrs Colon will be making all the traditional Hogswatch foods. We'll eat and drink even more than usual, pull our crackers, play Charades, and then listen to the town criers reading out the Patrician's Speech. Nobby's threatened to drop by later, so we might arrange to go out for a smoke, I mean for carolling. Hopefully no-one will steal the Brass Bridge while I'm on holidays."
Twoflower of Agatea: "Your Hogswatch holiday is so fascinating! So many unusual and exciting activities! I especially like the noble game you call 'Charades', and the exploding crackers with their sage and humorous slogans - very like our misfortune cookies. I intend to don your traditional paper hat, sit on the Hogfather's lap, and kiss him under the mistletoe. And I shall sit up late and eat pork pies with sherry, and wrap presents, and ask total strangers if they've been naughty or nice. I've bought extra paint for my iconograph imps to capture every moment of the festive season!"
Tomjon Vitoller: "I'll be appearing as the Ghost of Hogswatch Past, Present and Yet to Come in Hwel's new play 'Carol Does Hogswatch'. Some weasel juggler from Slice tried to hire me to impersonate him at the Lancre Hogswatch Festival - apparently he's double-booked - but I think I've seen enough of Lancre to last a lifetime."
The Small Boring Group of Faint Stars 24 Sept - 23 Oct
Rincewind: "I intend to stay locked in my study, where I will do quiet, safe, unthreatening things and eat a big plate of steaming potatoes. No sausages for me, they look too dangerous. And I'm certainly not coming out for Charades, no matter what the Dean says."
Constable Washpot Visit: We followers of the great Om don't hold with the pagan frivolities of the unbelievers. The so-called Hogswatch Day, and every day, is for us a time of prayer and contemplation and haranguing all unbelievers to forsake their heathen ways and join the Church of Om. Can I interest you in some educational pamphlets?"
Ponder Stibbons: "We're throwing a little party for Hex this Hogswatch, since he's been working so hard all year. I know Hex is only a machine, but this is a magical University after all, and more and more he - it - acts like a person. Rather like the Bursar, actually. Hex printed us out a Hogswatch card last night, and made the following request, at least I think it's a request: ++ I POSTULATE THAT IT IS POSSIBLE TO PLAY CHARADES IN A TEXT-BASED MEDIUM. NEED MORE CHEESE, A DUNGEON, AND A BAG OF HOLDING++ - we'll be looking into that. Hex also managed to somehow send a clacks to Hung Lo's Klatchian Pizzeria, ordering 50 large Tropical Hots with extra Wow-Wow sauce. See? Just like the Bursar."
Stanley of the Post Office: "We have a new special-issue Hogswatch stamp! In two sizes! These are offered in both domestic and foreign denominations and are produced to the highest standard, using vegetable-based paints of my own manufacture. The half-dollar stamps feature a new portrait of Lord Vetinari, specially commissioned, by Leonard of Quirm, and the tenpence stamps are available as a series of reproduced illustrations from the popular children's book 'Where's My Cow?'. These are not-to-be-missed collector's items! Ask me about stamps today! I'll be working at the Post Office all through Hogswatch, of course."
Androgyna Majestis 24 Oct - 22 Nov
Otto Chriek: "I vill stay home und polish my iconograph lenses, und feed zer imps und zer salamanders. Und not drink zer blood. On no account vill I drink zer blood. Back in Uberwald, ve haff zer blood sausages, und zer blood pudding, und zer...um, I zink I vill go haff a little lie-down now, excuse me."
Mrs Vena McGarry: "I just don't know what I'll do with myself now that the lads have buggered off to another realm of pillage and plunder. Things have been dreadfully quiet ever since. I might drop in on Mrs War and help her with the new batch of massage oil and bunion creams, but probably I'll just stay home and knit broadsword scabbards for the grandchildren."
The Dean of UU: "Charades! Pork pies! Cracker-pulling! And even bigger than usual dinners! And Ridcully's agreed to let me lead the paintball battle! Yes! Hut! Yo!"
Carrot Ironfoundersson: "Angua and I will be ski-ing in the Uberwald Alps this Hogswatch. I suggested we drop in on her parents, but for some reason she said she'd rather visit the dwarf bread museum at Copperhead, or dive headfirst into a vat of boiling oil. I think she was displaying sarcasm."
Great T'Phon's Foot 23 Nov - 21 Dec
Her Grace Sybil, Duchess of Ankh: "This is the first Hogswatch young Sam will be old enough to remember, so we'll be pushing the boat out to make it a memorable one. We'll have carols by dragonlight, and pork pies - he's on solid foods now, isn't he clever? - and sausages a la Genua, and paper hats with the Ramkin crest on them. I've made sure my husband understands that our son has to have one day when his father is home all day and no-one dies horribly on the doorstep. Nothing's too good for my Sams."
The Great Gaspode: "I'll be doin' a spot o' seasonal begging wiv my human pet Foul Ole Ron. Well, some say he's human. Myself, I'm not so sure. I've met Scoone Avenue poodles more human than Ron. Still, it always helps to have a pet human onna leash, people seem to dig deeper in their pockets for a double act. Oh, and we'll be begging at the Palace kitchens on St Furtive's Day. They're always good for a sausage or two, so long as we promise not to sing carols at them."
Leonard of Quirm: "Oh, is it Hogswatch again? How time flies, it seems like barely a year ago that I had built a chimney-widening apparatus to allow fathers to more easily pretend to be Hogfathers, and incidentally also prise open the walls of castles and fortresses. This year, I shall be finishing my device for using rays of invisible light to cook food very quickly from the inside out. I call it the Cooking Food From The Inside Out With Rays Of Invisible Light Very Quickly Device. Surely no-one would ever think of using it for something so terrible as cooking people very quickly from the inside out. Er, happy Hogswatch!"
Seldom Bucket: "A quiet holiday. Plenty of cheese. No stress. And no opera. Especially no opera."
Hoki the Jokester 22 Dec - 20 Jan
Mrs Erzulie Gogol: "I'll be making my special Hogswatch jambalaya, so's I can have a look at what's goin' to happen in the next year. Young miss Ella says she'll be dropping round for a visit an' a snack on the day. She invited me to the palace, but I declined. After all, I can't afford to be seen lowering my standards."
Esmerelda Weatherwax: "Traditional Hogswatch celebrations? Cuddly Hogfather dolls? Load o' rubbish. I've met the Hogfather and I can tell you he's not even a little bit cuddly. Hogswatch is an important time for witches - keeping the real old traditions - and there's nothing cuddly about those either. And as for paper hats and Charades, I can't be having with that sort of thing."
Lord Havelock Vetinari: "In honour of the festive nature of the day, I shall take an entire thirty minutes off from scrutinising and ruling the city, and consider one glass of wine with my bread and water. For sheer indulgence, I shall read the entire score of Fondel's 'Underwater Music'. One must accept a modicum of frivolity at least one day of the year, especially on the part of others, so I shall give Drumknott an hour off. Don't let me stop you leaving, madam."
Moist von Lipwig: "I was thinking of dropping round to the Golem Trust to ask Miss Dearheart if she wants to go watch the carollers in Sator Square with me. I've taken the precaution of buying six cartons of Klatchian Kools cigarettes, an armload of Higgs & Meakins finest chocolates, and some mistletoe. Does anyone know how to buy off a Golem chaperon?
The Rather Large Gazunda 21 Jan - 18 Feb
Lu-Tze the Sweeper: Is it not said that to every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under heaven? Not that I'd know, but I can tell you that each day is the same as every other one when there's sweeping to be done. It's not like sweepers get time off, you know. Especially on public holidays, when people are partying and making even more rubbish than usual. For is it not said that many hands make light work?"
Count Giamo Casanunda: "Mistletoe. Hogswatch is definitely all about the mistletoe. So, what's a lovely lady like yourself doing out working alone on Hogswatch, when you could be sharing the delights of the language of love with a willing admirer like, say, the world's second greatest lover? Have you ever eaten oysters? Or watched the moonrise over Cori Celesti from a secluded bower? Mmm?"
Conina: "Mmm, wild boar. Roast wild boar. See these hairdressing scissors? I can carve a roast wild boar - or a live one - into perfect portions in twenty seconds flat. And Io help anyone who gets within three feet of me with a paper hat. Herrydeterrity is so embarrassing..."
Angua von Uberwald: "I'll be ski-ing with my...friend Carrot, and enjoying a vegetarian meal. I certainly won't be spending time with my family. I wanted to stay on duty for the Hogswatch season - crime is rife when the dog's away - but Carrot can be very persuasive. And at least he's not the sort to commit, er, indulge in Charades."
Lesser Umbrage 19 Feb - 20 Mar
Rob Anybody Mac Feegle: "Aye, 'tis Hogswatch, right enough. Me an' the lads'll be oot giein' ship beasties an' Sassenachs a face full o' heid, and havin' a sip o' the auld Special Sheep Liniment. An' stealin', o'course. Wouldn't be Hogswatch wi'out the stealin'. I've commissioned, that's one o' them lawyer words, our gonnagle t' make an extrrra special Hogswatch poem in honour of Kelda Jeannie. Accomp'nied by mousepipes, o'course - it's been a while since the burrow had a good clean-out o' vermin. As for thet Hogfather - crivens, we Feegle don't take kindly to the housebreakin' unless it's us what's doin' it. If he dares shinny down our chimney, we'll gie him a kickin' he'll not soon forget!"
Jason Ogg: "I be decorating our Mam's house for Hogswatch, same as always, and forging some new strings for her banjo. And I always take time on Hogswatch to do a little shoeing job for a very special customer. It ain't easy shoeing boars, but I've got Duties."
Dr "Mossy" Lawn: "Holiday celebrations? As if! Hogswatch is my busiest time of year, what with all the cases of alcohol poisoning, the knife and bludgeon wounds, the frostbitten carollers, the unsuccessful suicides...not to mention all the embarrassing injuries sustained from playing Charades. And young fathers suffering from burns and soot inhalation after attempting to convince their children that the Hogfather really can fit down a chimney. And the jolly uncles with lampshades stuck on their heads. And don't get me started on the body parts I have to extract mistletoe from! But I will be cooking a Hogswatch goose in the surgical sterilising cauldron, though Cori Celesti knows when I'll get time to actually eat it."
Igor: "All I want for Hogthwatch ith my two front teeth. And a few thetth of thpareth. And a couple of new kidneyth. Mind you, the old one'th I got from my Uncle Igor are thill functhioning exthellently. I'd love to do thome thurgery experimenth on the Hogfather; I thuthpect that grafting thome of the flying pig partth onto him would make deliverieth of prethentth eathier and fathter..."
Wednesday, November 30, 2005
November 2005
From far Agatea comes the noble art of Haiku (not to be confused with the lesser Bhangbhangducan arts of Sezyu and Fuku); this month, I've a fancy to cast your Horoscopes in Haiku form. Since this form of arcane Eastern art is bloody difficu-, um, rather delicate and precise, you may find that a certain soupcon of my usual "trademark humour" is missing (no, Mister Throat, I'm not going to explain what a "trademark" is. Yes, my ancient mother quite enjoyed those almost unused false teeth you sold her last week at an even larger than usual discount price. No, I'm still not going to explain to you about "trademarks"). As always, I exhort you to look to your Signs and take my advice without a grain of salt, unless you're a Sea Troll, in which case you can't take anything without a grain of salt. Be well.
Writing horoscopes
Is by far more difficult
Than you'd think. - what? What?
The Adamant Hedgehog 21 Mar - 20 Apr
Adamant Hedgehog
Sign of cops (and Mrs Cake)
Protects feet and nails
This month, buy new shoes
Invest well in manicures
Sacrifice to Fate
Tend your offspring well
Share with them great lit'rature
"That is not my cow!"
Gahoolie, the Vase of Tulips 21 Apr - 21 May
Tulips in the sky
Gahoolie, the astral Vase
Smiles on those confused
This month, seek new goals
Try postvital politics
Join the Fresh Start Club
Zombies need hugs too!
Don't avoid them, even if
Bits keep dropping off
Herne the Hunted 22 May - 21 Jun
Gentle hunted Herne
God of small and helpless lives
Favours nervous types
This month, guard your skin
From Fourecks's brutal sun
(Bring a beer along)
Caution is your friend
Sunstroke is your enemy
Practise "Slip, Slap, Slop"
The Wizard's Staff and Knob 22 Jun - 22 Jul
Wizard's Staff and Knob:
Fans of aristology
Know this Star Sign well
This month, take light meals
And eschew things over-rich
(That's eschew, not "chew")
Second breakfast's out
Likewise for elevenses
Soon, you'll see your feet
Bilious, God of Hangovers 23 Jul - 23 Aug
Morning-after woes?
Bilious, God of Hangovers
Groans in sympathy
This month, try "Lite" beers
Sup not of reannuals
That would end in tears
Recent research shows
Unfermented grape juice is
Good for healthy hearts!
Mubbo the Hyena 24 Aug - 23 Sept
Lacking artifice?
Mubbo the Hyena can
Inspire subtleness
This month, avoid swords
Unless wielded by yourself
In berserker rage
Empires beg to fall
Trodden 'neath your sandalled feet
Soft the hero sleeps
The Small Boring Group of Faint Stars 24 Sept - 23 Oct
Terrified of risks?
Boring Groups of (Small) Faint Stars
Shines upon your fears
This month, forswear spells
Necrotelicomnicons
And geography
Seek a quiet life
Magical researches are
Best left to the brave
Androgyna Majestis 24 Oct - 22 Nov
Starry, starry night
Born under Androgyna?
Casual's the word
This month, brook no fools
Beware Dibblers bearing gifts
(Also, Mrs Cake)
Thrift's for faint of heart
Bargain hunters know no fear
Shop until you drop
Great T'Phon's Foot 23 Nov - 21 Dec
Travel free and far
Great T'Phon's Foot will not step
Hard on Footys born
This month, use your head
Swot arcane philosophies
Or invent the Gonne
Thoughts cannot be caged
Even when the thinker's chained
Head-down o'er a pit
Hoki the Jokester 22 Dec - 20 Jan
Magickal adepts
Hoki, Jokester set on high
Brings you eldritch luck
This month, cast dark runes
Study well the entrails' turns
Dead men do tell tales
Shadows, eerie winds
"When shall we three meet again?"
Don't forget the scones
The Rather Large Gazunda 21 Jan - 18 Feb
Hark to Love's sweet song!
Rather Large Gazunda holds
Sway o'er lovers' lips
This month, make love well
Whether you be Seamstress fair
Or besotted Dwarf
Carrots, oysters, wine
Don't forget the Special Sauce
Thus are legends born
Lesser Umbrage 19 Feb - 20 Mar
Clever-fingered thieves
Lesser Umbrage favours you
With keen eyes and hands
This month, lose yourself
In the practice of your Arts
Heed nae Laird nor Quin
Steal a passing ship
Or a coo, if you be bold
Blow, ye mousepipes, blow!
Writing horoscopes
Is by far more difficult
Than you'd think. - what? What?
The Adamant Hedgehog 21 Mar - 20 Apr
Adamant Hedgehog
Sign of cops (and Mrs Cake)
Protects feet and nails
This month, buy new shoes
Invest well in manicures
Sacrifice to Fate
Tend your offspring well
Share with them great lit'rature
"That is not my cow!"
Gahoolie, the Vase of Tulips 21 Apr - 21 May
Tulips in the sky
Gahoolie, the astral Vase
Smiles on those confused
This month, seek new goals
Try postvital politics
Join the Fresh Start Club
Zombies need hugs too!
Don't avoid them, even if
Bits keep dropping off
Herne the Hunted 22 May - 21 Jun
Gentle hunted Herne
God of small and helpless lives
Favours nervous types
This month, guard your skin
From Fourecks's brutal sun
(Bring a beer along)
Caution is your friend
Sunstroke is your enemy
Practise "Slip, Slap, Slop"
The Wizard's Staff and Knob 22 Jun - 22 Jul
Wizard's Staff and Knob:
Fans of aristology
Know this Star Sign well
This month, take light meals
And eschew things over-rich
(That's eschew, not "chew")
Second breakfast's out
Likewise for elevenses
Soon, you'll see your feet
Bilious, God of Hangovers 23 Jul - 23 Aug
Morning-after woes?
Bilious, God of Hangovers
Groans in sympathy
This month, try "Lite" beers
Sup not of reannuals
That would end in tears
Recent research shows
Unfermented grape juice is
Good for healthy hearts!
Mubbo the Hyena 24 Aug - 23 Sept
Lacking artifice?
Mubbo the Hyena can
Inspire subtleness
This month, avoid swords
Unless wielded by yourself
In berserker rage
Empires beg to fall
Trodden 'neath your sandalled feet
Soft the hero sleeps
The Small Boring Group of Faint Stars 24 Sept - 23 Oct
Terrified of risks?
Boring Groups of (Small) Faint Stars
Shines upon your fears
This month, forswear spells
Necrotelicomnicons
And geography
Seek a quiet life
Magical researches are
Best left to the brave
Androgyna Majestis 24 Oct - 22 Nov
Starry, starry night
Born under Androgyna?
Casual's the word
This month, brook no fools
Beware Dibblers bearing gifts
(Also, Mrs Cake)
Thrift's for faint of heart
Bargain hunters know no fear
Shop until you drop
Great T'Phon's Foot 23 Nov - 21 Dec
Travel free and far
Great T'Phon's Foot will not step
Hard on Footys born
This month, use your head
Swot arcane philosophies
Or invent the Gonne
Thoughts cannot be caged
Even when the thinker's chained
Head-down o'er a pit
Hoki the Jokester 22 Dec - 20 Jan
Magickal adepts
Hoki, Jokester set on high
Brings you eldritch luck
This month, cast dark runes
Study well the entrails' turns
Dead men do tell tales
Shadows, eerie winds
"When shall we three meet again?"
Don't forget the scones
The Rather Large Gazunda 21 Jan - 18 Feb
Hark to Love's sweet song!
Rather Large Gazunda holds
Sway o'er lovers' lips
This month, make love well
Whether you be Seamstress fair
Or besotted Dwarf
Carrots, oysters, wine
Don't forget the Special Sauce
Thus are legends born
Lesser Umbrage 19 Feb - 20 Mar
Clever-fingered thieves
Lesser Umbrage favours you
With keen eyes and hands
This month, lose yourself
In the practice of your Arts
Heed nae Laird nor Quin
Steal a passing ship
Or a coo, if you be bold
Blow, ye mousepipes, blow!
Monday, October 31, 2005
October 2005
Alliteration: amazing, amusing, all-astounding alliteration! This month, I pepper your page with confounding confections of literal and literary fonts fantastic. Why, do you ask? Just because I can! Now stand back and marvel as your friendly neighbourhood astrologer aimlessly attempts animatedly acerbic animation without a net. Or a thesaurus.
P.S. This is the sort of alliteration that goes as much by the sound of words as by their first letters. Read aloud for maximum tongue-trippery.
The Adamant Hedgehog 21 Mar - 20 Apr
This month, you will display diverting depths of debating derring-do and decoct diabolically Dibblerish deceptions in dazzling, dexterous demonstrations of delectably delicate diction. You will dreamily deflect doubt and derision with the disputational deftness of a Descartes or Derrida, as delineated duellists decamp in distress. In the demesne of discourse, you can do definite damage. Dude!
Tip of the month: avoid amorous Agateans.
Gahoolie, the Vase of Tulips 21 Apr - 21 May
This month, your new-found, nay, nascent knowledge of nimble-fingered needlework will be named newsworthy (note that the nature of this needlework is not...nocturnal). Negate nugatory nay-sayers and Nugganites as you network your Niche-market: nobles, nobs and nabobs (not Nobby), but never niggardly nincompoops nor neolithic nerds. Navigate numismatic narrows to nurture your nest-egg - now!
Tip of the month: bypass bellicose Borogravians.
Herne the Hunted 22 May - 21 Jun
This month, fulfil your farinaceous fancies with a fecund fiesta of figgin folderol, fresh flatbreads, filigreed filo-pastries and flavoursome fruit flans...in other words, free your fertile flights of floury fantasies and fetter your fears and feelings of foreboding and failure in the field of foodstuffs! For fierce Fedecks foretells fair fortune, fine fodder-fashioners.
Tip of the month: upbraid unctuous Uberwaldeans.
The Wizard's Staff and Knob 22 Jun - 22 Jul
This month, you'll effectively explore the exquisite efficacy of education as you endeavour to express the elements of erudition from erratic to the erotic, the earthly to the exotic and the ecumenical to the extraordinary. Your expert, enthusiastic exhibition of exceptional excerpts expels ennui and entreats everyone to enter establishments of enlightenment. Enthral 'em with euphonious ekphrasis - or ex-ter-mi-nate!
Tip of the month: jettison gentrified Genuans.
Bilious, God of Hangovers 23 Jul - 23 Aug
This month, a surplus shipment of succulent seafood serendipitously sorts solvency scrapes and spells salvation as Society celebrates and salivates at your Celestial Squishi Shop's chef's specials! Strive sweetly to centre self-supporting schemes: suddenly, struggles cease. Salute psychic strength, savour census surveys, sing softly, sanguinely serve Seamstresses singular selections of stir-fry, and sell sea shells.
(If you are an Igor, under no circumstances try to read this horoscope aloud!!!)
Tip of the month: beleaguer bucolic Brindisians.
Mubbo the Hyena 24 Aug - 23 Sept
This month, jump joyfully into a jolly, jumbled, jelly-jawed jamboree of jesting. Generate jocularity, jovial japes, juicy gibes and generic jackassery for geriatric judiciaries, jowly generals, jobbing jackanapes and junior journeymen. Gesticulate generously, jingle janglingly, jab gerbils, jubilantly juxtapose jewels and junk, and juggle, juggle, juggle! Geronimo!
Tip of the month: quash quixotic Quirmians.
The Small Boring Group of Faint Stars 24 Sept - 23 Oct
This month, grasp greatness as you gamble on gardening. Gallivant through goldenrod-gilded greenswards, gossip garrulously about gaudy gardenias, gravitate toward garish gillyflowers and gladioli-girt gazebos, glide gracefully around graduated glades, and gaily give gratuitous grass-growing guidance. Got greedy greenflies? - gather guardian ganders. Grab your gloves and get grubby!
Tip of the month: terrorise truculent Tsorteans.
Androgyna Majestis 24 Oct - 22 Nov
This month, present pearlescent ponderings that perspicaciously penetrate portentously pantheistic pinnacles† with pleasing pyrotechnics of picaresque poetry. Perfunctorily pacify persnickety persons, pre-empting their pitiful protests and peccadilloes, with picturesquely-phrased peregrinations through pertinently poetical plateaus and panoramic parklands. Poetry is your personal portal; pander precariously, prevaricate postmodernistically, but persevere!
Tip of the month: marginalise maladroit Morporkians.
† i.e., Cori Celesti.
Great T'Phon's Foot 23 Nov - 21 Dec
This month, orchestrate operatic octaves to obtain an onslaught of outrageous ovations, as you open your ordained oral orifice for orotund outpourings of opulently onomatopoeic aural occasions! Opportunistically overwhelm ordinary oddballs, ostentatiously ornate opera-obsessives, overweight odalisques, obfuscatory operatives, owlishly ossified octogenarians and omnipresent occult Oggs. Otherwise occupied? Oh.
Tip of the month: admonish acrimonious Al-Ybians.
Hoki the Jokester 22 Dec - 20 Jan
This month, make murder your monstrously macabre mandate as you mordantly massacre multitudinous Morporkians: mimes, miscreants, mendicants, misanthropes, martinets, mountebanks, milliners, mathematicians, militiamen, machinists, musicians, musketeers, mariners, mariachis, marchionesses, matriarchs, mentalists, monks, mapmakers, mountaineers, mutterers, matelots, marksmen, misers, madrigal-singers, motley-wearers...and of course, meddling morticians - and Miss Marple. Malevolent motiveless murder makes marvellous merriment!
Tip of the month: evade estranged Ephebians.
The Rather Large Gazunda 21 Jan - 18 Feb
This month, investigate your inner inventor. Ignore idiosyncratic insinuations of idiocy or impropriety; impervious to imprecations and insults, instinctively ideate ingeniously and intrepidly, interpolate integratedly, and indulge your incipient imaginings - inchworm-irradiation, igloo-icers, inkwell-irrigators, identity-imprinters, indoor ionisers...be illustriously industrious and indicate idealised intelligence. I insist.
Tip of the month: outrage overbearing Omnians.
Lesser Umbrage 19 Feb - 20 Mar
This month, let love's leitmotif lambently limn your lacklustre life! Lovely, lasting, late-blooming love; languid, lingering love; lascivious, lustful love; lurching, lumbering love; lubricated leather love; and last but not least, lurid lycanthropic love. Love's lucent language lifts lesser lollygaggers to levitation-levels. Leaven less lively love letters, lest love lugubriously languish. Love is all you need!
Tip of the month: harass hirsute Heliodeliphilodelphiboschromenians.
P.S. This is the sort of alliteration that goes as much by the sound of words as by their first letters. Read aloud for maximum tongue-trippery.
The Adamant Hedgehog 21 Mar - 20 Apr
This month, you will display diverting depths of debating derring-do and decoct diabolically Dibblerish deceptions in dazzling, dexterous demonstrations of delectably delicate diction. You will dreamily deflect doubt and derision with the disputational deftness of a Descartes or Derrida, as delineated duellists decamp in distress. In the demesne of discourse, you can do definite damage. Dude!
Tip of the month: avoid amorous Agateans.
Gahoolie, the Vase of Tulips 21 Apr - 21 May
This month, your new-found, nay, nascent knowledge of nimble-fingered needlework will be named newsworthy (note that the nature of this needlework is not...nocturnal). Negate nugatory nay-sayers and Nugganites as you network your Niche-market: nobles, nobs and nabobs (not Nobby), but never niggardly nincompoops nor neolithic nerds. Navigate numismatic narrows to nurture your nest-egg - now!
Tip of the month: bypass bellicose Borogravians.
Herne the Hunted 22 May - 21 Jun
This month, fulfil your farinaceous fancies with a fecund fiesta of figgin folderol, fresh flatbreads, filigreed filo-pastries and flavoursome fruit flans...in other words, free your fertile flights of floury fantasies and fetter your fears and feelings of foreboding and failure in the field of foodstuffs! For fierce Fedecks foretells fair fortune, fine fodder-fashioners.
Tip of the month: upbraid unctuous Uberwaldeans.
The Wizard's Staff and Knob 22 Jun - 22 Jul
This month, you'll effectively explore the exquisite efficacy of education as you endeavour to express the elements of erudition from erratic to the erotic, the earthly to the exotic and the ecumenical to the extraordinary. Your expert, enthusiastic exhibition of exceptional excerpts expels ennui and entreats everyone to enter establishments of enlightenment. Enthral 'em with euphonious ekphrasis - or ex-ter-mi-nate!
Tip of the month: jettison gentrified Genuans.
Bilious, God of Hangovers 23 Jul - 23 Aug
This month, a surplus shipment of succulent seafood serendipitously sorts solvency scrapes and spells salvation as Society celebrates and salivates at your Celestial Squishi Shop's chef's specials! Strive sweetly to centre self-supporting schemes: suddenly, struggles cease. Salute psychic strength, savour census surveys, sing softly, sanguinely serve Seamstresses singular selections of stir-fry, and sell sea shells.
(If you are an Igor, under no circumstances try to read this horoscope aloud!!!)
Tip of the month: beleaguer bucolic Brindisians.
Mubbo the Hyena 24 Aug - 23 Sept
This month, jump joyfully into a jolly, jumbled, jelly-jawed jamboree of jesting. Generate jocularity, jovial japes, juicy gibes and generic jackassery for geriatric judiciaries, jowly generals, jobbing jackanapes and junior journeymen. Gesticulate generously, jingle janglingly, jab gerbils, jubilantly juxtapose jewels and junk, and juggle, juggle, juggle! Geronimo!
Tip of the month: quash quixotic Quirmians.
The Small Boring Group of Faint Stars 24 Sept - 23 Oct
This month, grasp greatness as you gamble on gardening. Gallivant through goldenrod-gilded greenswards, gossip garrulously about gaudy gardenias, gravitate toward garish gillyflowers and gladioli-girt gazebos, glide gracefully around graduated glades, and gaily give gratuitous grass-growing guidance. Got greedy greenflies? - gather guardian ganders. Grab your gloves and get grubby!
Tip of the month: terrorise truculent Tsorteans.
Androgyna Majestis 24 Oct - 22 Nov
This month, present pearlescent ponderings that perspicaciously penetrate portentously pantheistic pinnacles† with pleasing pyrotechnics of picaresque poetry. Perfunctorily pacify persnickety persons, pre-empting their pitiful protests and peccadilloes, with picturesquely-phrased peregrinations through pertinently poetical plateaus and panoramic parklands. Poetry is your personal portal; pander precariously, prevaricate postmodernistically, but persevere!
Tip of the month: marginalise maladroit Morporkians.
† i.e., Cori Celesti.
Great T'Phon's Foot 23 Nov - 21 Dec
This month, orchestrate operatic octaves to obtain an onslaught of outrageous ovations, as you open your ordained oral orifice for orotund outpourings of opulently onomatopoeic aural occasions! Opportunistically overwhelm ordinary oddballs, ostentatiously ornate opera-obsessives, overweight odalisques, obfuscatory operatives, owlishly ossified octogenarians and omnipresent occult Oggs. Otherwise occupied? Oh.
Tip of the month: admonish acrimonious Al-Ybians.
Hoki the Jokester 22 Dec - 20 Jan
This month, make murder your monstrously macabre mandate as you mordantly massacre multitudinous Morporkians: mimes, miscreants, mendicants, misanthropes, martinets, mountebanks, milliners, mathematicians, militiamen, machinists, musicians, musketeers, mariners, mariachis, marchionesses, matriarchs, mentalists, monks, mapmakers, mountaineers, mutterers, matelots, marksmen, misers, madrigal-singers, motley-wearers...and of course, meddling morticians - and Miss Marple. Malevolent motiveless murder makes marvellous merriment!
Tip of the month: evade estranged Ephebians.
The Rather Large Gazunda 21 Jan - 18 Feb
This month, investigate your inner inventor. Ignore idiosyncratic insinuations of idiocy or impropriety; impervious to imprecations and insults, instinctively ideate ingeniously and intrepidly, interpolate integratedly, and indulge your incipient imaginings - inchworm-irradiation, igloo-icers, inkwell-irrigators, identity-imprinters, indoor ionisers...be illustriously industrious and indicate idealised intelligence. I insist.
Tip of the month: outrage overbearing Omnians.
Lesser Umbrage 19 Feb - 20 Mar
This month, let love's leitmotif lambently limn your lacklustre life! Lovely, lasting, late-blooming love; languid, lingering love; lascivious, lustful love; lurching, lumbering love; lubricated leather love; and last but not least, lurid lycanthropic love. Love's lucent language lifts lesser lollygaggers to levitation-levels. Leaven less lively love letters, lest love lugubriously languish. Love is all you need!
Tip of the month: harass hirsute Heliodeliphilodelphiboschromenians.
Friday, September 30, 2005
September 2005
This month, in a timely link to Roundworld, we look at the dangers of extreme weather and other natural disasters: which Signs are prone to which, and what you can do to avoid them or at least survive them. On a world as magickal as the Disc, with its whimsical gods, "natural" disasters occur with considerable regularity; in fact, one must be aware that floods, fires and other fell happenings are as often the fault of gods and other magic-wielders as of jograffy and atmospheric disturbances - the denizens of Cori Celesti tend to loose stray thunderbolts the way that, say, we mortals belch at embarrassing times. Some of the more unusual Discly disasters include Hurricane Kev, which struck and destroyed two houses in Ynci Street in Lancre town (the only inland hurricane ever recorded, it is widely assumed to be the result of a feud within a witch-blessed family); Tropical Storm Dibbler, which once threatened low-lying Genua but failed to do major damage due to cutting its own throat at the last minute; and of course the infamous localised earthquake in Dagon Street, Ankh-Morpork, that occurred immediately following the opening of Mr Hong's Three Jolly Luck takeaway fish bar. So remember, keep your wellies close at hand, your powder dry (especially if you're a Seamstress; nothing like a good disaster to boost business) and study your horoscope very carefully this month. It could happen to you!
The Adamant Hedgehog 21 Mar - 20 Apr
Disaster to beware: tornado
This month is tornado season on the Sto Plains. Remember that one just last year, when the Sto Lat palace privy block got sucked up and landed smack on the Floral Clock in Quirm? Some might say it was a good thing, getting a full delivery of high-quality fertiliser in one shall we say go, but the Dowager Duchess was not amused. And tornadoes are rarely that thoughtful! The best place to go when you see a tornado heading your way is down into the nearest vegetable cellar. It may take months to get the smell of brassica out of your nostrils, but at least your nose will still be connected to your face. Suggested sacrifices to: Flatulus, God of the Winds, and Zephyrus, God of Slight Breezes.
Gahoolie, the Vase of Tulips 21 Apr - 21 May
Disaster to beware: flood
Old legends tell the tale of a great Flood that once covered the entire Disc, but it's worth noting that these legends all originate in Llamedos where observing rainwater is a national pastime. Naetheless, there are certainly tidal marks in the lower Ramtops, and the plains of Agatea are noted for their floods in the springtime. And if you live near the mouth of the Vieux River, you know that there's nothing like a bevy of levees for when the floods get heavy. If you hear reports of likely flooding, be sure to get out your Sonky Big Buoy Inflatable and your Ramtops oilskins and check that you have plenty of bargepoles. Suggested sacrifices to: Ka-Nuti, the Agatean Sea Goddess; Offler, who has a thing for rivers; Koryolus, God of Drains.
Herne the Hunted 22 May - 21 Jun
Disaster to beware: meteor strike
As Great A'Tuin swims through the vastness of Space, S/he often encounters swarms of heavenly bodies (like those encountered by roving iconographers at clickpit premieres, only less friendly and accommodating...or maybe not). On occasion, some of these are large enough to make it through the Discly atmosphere, where they appear as "shooting stars", and a few of these remain large enough to land as starstones (often, strangely, in the centre of crop circles or secret desert military bases). But once in a very long while, a truly large heavenly body will cross A'Tuin's migratory path and land with enough force and mass to flatten mountains. These can generally be seen coming, if you know where to look. If you spot a "star" getting larger and brighter every night, it's a good time to take a holiday on the other side of the continent. Especially if that "star" turns out to be made of space-frozen Elephant poo! Suggested sacrifices to: What, the Sky Goddess; Herne.
The Wizard's Staff and Knob 22 Jun - 22 Jul
Disaster to beware: hurricane
The best - as in most spectacularly violent - hurricanes tend to make landfall around Chirm on the Circle Sea coast, but as no-one of interest lives there these tend to go unremarked except by Sea Trolls on their holidays. The second-best hurricanes aim for Genua and sometimes Brindisi. Hurricanes have been known in Ankh-Morpork (as a seasonal bonus for the Builders' Guild), but A-M tends to be immune to the threat of storm surge: after all, what tide could possibly fight its way up through the nearly-solid wat-, erm, colloid of the River Ankh? If your area gets a hurricane warning, put up your storm shutters and don't forget to bring the goats into the kitchen. In case of severe hurricane warnings, you may want to take some time off to visit Ankh-Morpork. Or Lancre, as long as you avoid Ynci Street. Suggested sacrifices to: Blind Io; Alohura, Goddess of Lightning.
Bilious, God of Hangovers 23 Jul - 23 Aug
Disaster to beware: volcanic eruption
There are, historically, two sorts of volcanoes on the Disc: the kind that spouts red-hot lava, ash and poisonous smoke, for instance Mount Edina that exploded and buried the Ephebian town of Rumpeii-Pumpeii, and the kind that spouts raw treacle, such as the Big Rock Candy Fountain in upper Uberwald. While the fiery sort is a must to avoid, beware the treacle volcano - being instantly burnt to a crisp is preferable to being boiled alive in a coating of hot toffee! Nature's early warning signal for volcanoes is a sudden stampede of small animals, led by Herne the Hunted, though this is far from foolproof: they could be running from Nanny Ogg's bathtime, which in itself is a sort of natural disaster. If you see smoke and steam beginning to rise from a nearby mountaintop, run away at all speed, but bring a saucepan in case treacle erupts. Suggested sacrifices to: Cubal, God of Fire; Cariees, God of Dentistry and Boiled Sweets.
Mubbo the Hyena 24 Aug - 23 Sept
Disaster to beware: tidal wave
We all like to go swimming in the ocean, but we prefer to leave our houses when we do it. When a tidal wave comes along, one doesn't get much choice in the matter! The High Energy Magic department at UU tells us that tidal waves are caused by underwater earthquakes, but Agatean traditionalists believe they're caused by Su-Nami, the Goddess of Vengeful Oceanic Activity, having a bad hair day, and XXXXians believe they are manifestations of Bhondai the Surf God that occur when beer offerings grow scarce. As tidal waves tend to appear with no warning, the best way to avoid them is to live well above sea level, or to join the UU Undersea Thaumic investigations Unit (open only to student wizards, but there's always room for a tea lady or pizza chef). Alternatively, live by the sea but practice running really, really fast. Suggested sacrifices to: Su-Nami; Phucdis, Bhangbhangducian God of Tides; Bhondai.
The Small Boring Group of Faint Stars 24 Sept - 23 Oct
Disaster to beware: bush fire
Where there's smoke there's fire (or a Yen Buddhist temple full of expensive incense, or a treacle volcano ready to blow...), and no-one knows this better than your typical Fourecksian bush ranger. Bush fires are the bane of XXXXian life - they destroy lives and property and play merry hells with the beer harvest! If you live in bush fire country during the dry season (which in Terror Incognita runs from Offle to Ick, with occasional breaks for the June-Grune rainy season) you can take the following precautions: cut down gum trees near your house; clear the dead possums out of your yard (they burn really well); dig a seriously big swimming pool. If all else fails, try not sacrificing to Bhondai, in the hopes that he will send a tidal wave. Suggested sacrifices to: Skelde, Spirit of the Smoke; Cubal.
Androgyna Majestis 24 Oct - 22 Nov
Disaster to beware: rain of frogs
Not to be confused with the Reign of Frog (as some historians term the Lady Lilith period in Genua) or the Rain of Fog (a seasonal event in Llamedos, distinguishable from normal Llamedosan weather by its extreme intensity and air you can bathe in). Rains of frogs are often looked upon as Blind Io's little comic relief, but in reality there's nothing funny about a veritable downpour of the little cold-blooded buggers - they're wet and messy and can do quite a lot of damage when falling from a great height, and we won't even mention they way the run-off blocks up the privies! And rains of frogs can cause tragedy, as was seen during the Great Batrachian Deluge in Brindisi when dozens of chefs died of exhaustion after trying to fillet and cook endless frogdrifts. Safety tips: carry a willow-reinforced umbrella and at least two well-seasoned frying pans. Suggested sacrifices to: the Lady, on general principles; Herne the Hunted; Hoki (that way you appease two Nature Gods for the price of one).
Great T'Phon's Foot 23 Nov - 21 Dec
Disaster to beware: avalanche
Mountains are beautiful, but they do have this distressing tendency to explode or collapse on one's head. If you're planning a skiing holiday in the Ramtops or any other popular mountain ranges, be sure to stay away during avalanche season, which is usually during early Spring; the whole point of skiing is to go downhill really fast, but avalanches have perfected that art beyond the best efforts of men and Yetis. Remember that in any race between you and a mountain, the mountain is bound to win! If you must risk this, at least take along a good teleportation spell - a good, quickly-read teleportation spell - or a troop of Troll bodyguards trained to form protective synchronised foothills. Or stay indoors in a nice warm inn on the lower slopes and enjoy the parade of trapped skiers as they scream past you. Suggested sacrifices to: Foorgol, God of Avalanches; Thwap, the Troll God of Falling Rocks.
Hoki the Jokester 22 Dec - 20 Jan
Disaster to beware: hailstorm
There are few things more disconcerting than being pelted with hail on a sunny day. Oh, all right, there are a number of things more disconcerting, but few are as sudden. Or as hard on the skull. Your basic hailstorms are born high in the upper atmosphere and tend to come downwards without warning. They are also endowed with malice, and supernaturally good aim! Hailstorms disrupt traffic and play merry hells with the soft fruit industries, but have given many a window merchant or glass eye manufacturer a much-needed boost in business. The most dangerous variant is the hailstorm of frogs, although this is welcomed by Brindisian chefs as it keeps the icehouse bills down. Suggested sacrifices to: What, the Sky Goddess; Friflo, the Goddess of Unexpected Spills. Consider converting to Omnianism, as Om is big on falling out of the sky.
The Rather Large Gazunda 21 Jan - 18 Feb
Disaster to beware: blizzard
A full-blown blizzard is Nature's equivalent of a rowdy block party. When all the winter elements combine, the result is a beast that's part hurricane, part tornado, part avalanche, part hailstorm and all ornery. Unwary visitors to blizzard country are frequently found, when the spring thaw comes, as rather large icicles less than four feet from the privy. But how can you tell when an ordinary, dusts-the-landscape-charmingly-with-pretty-white-powder snowfall is likely to become a blizzard? Well, if you open your front door and get pelted with what feels like a whole herd of Special Snowballs†, the best plan is to hope that you've laid in enough root vegetables to last you until springtime. Beware: blizzards can bring out your Inner Cannibal. Or your mother-in-law's. Suggested sacrifices to: Brasbal and Frosantit, Hublandish twin gods of ice and snow. Well really, any Hublands or Chimeran gods will do the trick here. You might also try invoking the Ice Giants.
† The ones with the cleverly concealed rocks in the centres.
Lesser Umbrage 19 Feb - 20 Mar
Disaster to beware: heatwave
It's funny how the first people to complain about cold winter weather are so often the first to complain about summer heat! A true heatwave is no laughing matter, though. Road paving melts - people melt! - the young, the old and the sick collapse even faster than usual, and all trollish business comes to a stony end for the duration. Heat waves are no respecter of the high and mighty, either. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to rule a city-state when your black robes are stifling? One good thing about heat waves is that the crime rate goes down (good news because the Watchmen are too heat-exhausted to chase criminals anyway). Another is that the female clothing ratio also goes down, although the sight of large matrons wearing very little can also cause fainting. The best way to ride out a heat wave is in a nice cool pole-dancing club; at least the dancers won't be complaining about having to take their clothes off for strangers. Suggested sacrifices to: Thrrp, Charioteer of the Sun; Scrab, Pusher of the Ball of the Sun; Cubal, just to be safe.
The Adamant Hedgehog 21 Mar - 20 Apr
Disaster to beware: tornado
This month is tornado season on the Sto Plains. Remember that one just last year, when the Sto Lat palace privy block got sucked up and landed smack on the Floral Clock in Quirm? Some might say it was a good thing, getting a full delivery of high-quality fertiliser in one shall we say go, but the Dowager Duchess was not amused. And tornadoes are rarely that thoughtful! The best place to go when you see a tornado heading your way is down into the nearest vegetable cellar. It may take months to get the smell of brassica out of your nostrils, but at least your nose will still be connected to your face. Suggested sacrifices to: Flatulus, God of the Winds, and Zephyrus, God of Slight Breezes.
Gahoolie, the Vase of Tulips 21 Apr - 21 May
Disaster to beware: flood
Old legends tell the tale of a great Flood that once covered the entire Disc, but it's worth noting that these legends all originate in Llamedos where observing rainwater is a national pastime. Naetheless, there are certainly tidal marks in the lower Ramtops, and the plains of Agatea are noted for their floods in the springtime. And if you live near the mouth of the Vieux River, you know that there's nothing like a bevy of levees for when the floods get heavy. If you hear reports of likely flooding, be sure to get out your Sonky Big Buoy Inflatable and your Ramtops oilskins and check that you have plenty of bargepoles. Suggested sacrifices to: Ka-Nuti, the Agatean Sea Goddess; Offler, who has a thing for rivers; Koryolus, God of Drains.
Herne the Hunted 22 May - 21 Jun
Disaster to beware: meteor strike
As Great A'Tuin swims through the vastness of Space, S/he often encounters swarms of heavenly bodies (like those encountered by roving iconographers at clickpit premieres, only less friendly and accommodating...or maybe not). On occasion, some of these are large enough to make it through the Discly atmosphere, where they appear as "shooting stars", and a few of these remain large enough to land as starstones (often, strangely, in the centre of crop circles or secret desert military bases). But once in a very long while, a truly large heavenly body will cross A'Tuin's migratory path and land with enough force and mass to flatten mountains. These can generally be seen coming, if you know where to look. If you spot a "star" getting larger and brighter every night, it's a good time to take a holiday on the other side of the continent. Especially if that "star" turns out to be made of space-frozen Elephant poo! Suggested sacrifices to: What, the Sky Goddess; Herne.
The Wizard's Staff and Knob 22 Jun - 22 Jul
Disaster to beware: hurricane
The best - as in most spectacularly violent - hurricanes tend to make landfall around Chirm on the Circle Sea coast, but as no-one of interest lives there these tend to go unremarked except by Sea Trolls on their holidays. The second-best hurricanes aim for Genua and sometimes Brindisi. Hurricanes have been known in Ankh-Morpork (as a seasonal bonus for the Builders' Guild), but A-M tends to be immune to the threat of storm surge: after all, what tide could possibly fight its way up through the nearly-solid wat-, erm, colloid of the River Ankh? If your area gets a hurricane warning, put up your storm shutters and don't forget to bring the goats into the kitchen. In case of severe hurricane warnings, you may want to take some time off to visit Ankh-Morpork. Or Lancre, as long as you avoid Ynci Street. Suggested sacrifices to: Blind Io; Alohura, Goddess of Lightning.
Bilious, God of Hangovers 23 Jul - 23 Aug
Disaster to beware: volcanic eruption
There are, historically, two sorts of volcanoes on the Disc: the kind that spouts red-hot lava, ash and poisonous smoke, for instance Mount Edina that exploded and buried the Ephebian town of Rumpeii-Pumpeii, and the kind that spouts raw treacle, such as the Big Rock Candy Fountain in upper Uberwald. While the fiery sort is a must to avoid, beware the treacle volcano - being instantly burnt to a crisp is preferable to being boiled alive in a coating of hot toffee! Nature's early warning signal for volcanoes is a sudden stampede of small animals, led by Herne the Hunted, though this is far from foolproof: they could be running from Nanny Ogg's bathtime, which in itself is a sort of natural disaster. If you see smoke and steam beginning to rise from a nearby mountaintop, run away at all speed, but bring a saucepan in case treacle erupts. Suggested sacrifices to: Cubal, God of Fire; Cariees, God of Dentistry and Boiled Sweets.
Mubbo the Hyena 24 Aug - 23 Sept
Disaster to beware: tidal wave
We all like to go swimming in the ocean, but we prefer to leave our houses when we do it. When a tidal wave comes along, one doesn't get much choice in the matter! The High Energy Magic department at UU tells us that tidal waves are caused by underwater earthquakes, but Agatean traditionalists believe they're caused by Su-Nami, the Goddess of Vengeful Oceanic Activity, having a bad hair day, and XXXXians believe they are manifestations of Bhondai the Surf God that occur when beer offerings grow scarce. As tidal waves tend to appear with no warning, the best way to avoid them is to live well above sea level, or to join the UU Undersea Thaumic investigations Unit (open only to student wizards, but there's always room for a tea lady or pizza chef). Alternatively, live by the sea but practice running really, really fast. Suggested sacrifices to: Su-Nami; Phucdis, Bhangbhangducian God of Tides; Bhondai.
The Small Boring Group of Faint Stars 24 Sept - 23 Oct
Disaster to beware: bush fire
Where there's smoke there's fire (or a Yen Buddhist temple full of expensive incense, or a treacle volcano ready to blow...), and no-one knows this better than your typical Fourecksian bush ranger. Bush fires are the bane of XXXXian life - they destroy lives and property and play merry hells with the beer harvest! If you live in bush fire country during the dry season (which in Terror Incognita runs from Offle to Ick, with occasional breaks for the June-Grune rainy season) you can take the following precautions: cut down gum trees near your house; clear the dead possums out of your yard (they burn really well); dig a seriously big swimming pool. If all else fails, try not sacrificing to Bhondai, in the hopes that he will send a tidal wave. Suggested sacrifices to: Skelde, Spirit of the Smoke; Cubal.
Androgyna Majestis 24 Oct - 22 Nov
Disaster to beware: rain of frogs
Not to be confused with the Reign of Frog (as some historians term the Lady Lilith period in Genua) or the Rain of Fog (a seasonal event in Llamedos, distinguishable from normal Llamedosan weather by its extreme intensity and air you can bathe in). Rains of frogs are often looked upon as Blind Io's little comic relief, but in reality there's nothing funny about a veritable downpour of the little cold-blooded buggers - they're wet and messy and can do quite a lot of damage when falling from a great height, and we won't even mention they way the run-off blocks up the privies! And rains of frogs can cause tragedy, as was seen during the Great Batrachian Deluge in Brindisi when dozens of chefs died of exhaustion after trying to fillet and cook endless frogdrifts. Safety tips: carry a willow-reinforced umbrella and at least two well-seasoned frying pans. Suggested sacrifices to: the Lady, on general principles; Herne the Hunted; Hoki (that way you appease two Nature Gods for the price of one).
Great T'Phon's Foot 23 Nov - 21 Dec
Disaster to beware: avalanche
Mountains are beautiful, but they do have this distressing tendency to explode or collapse on one's head. If you're planning a skiing holiday in the Ramtops or any other popular mountain ranges, be sure to stay away during avalanche season, which is usually during early Spring; the whole point of skiing is to go downhill really fast, but avalanches have perfected that art beyond the best efforts of men and Yetis. Remember that in any race between you and a mountain, the mountain is bound to win! If you must risk this, at least take along a good teleportation spell - a good, quickly-read teleportation spell - or a troop of Troll bodyguards trained to form protective synchronised foothills. Or stay indoors in a nice warm inn on the lower slopes and enjoy the parade of trapped skiers as they scream past you. Suggested sacrifices to: Foorgol, God of Avalanches; Thwap, the Troll God of Falling Rocks.
Hoki the Jokester 22 Dec - 20 Jan
Disaster to beware: hailstorm
There are few things more disconcerting than being pelted with hail on a sunny day. Oh, all right, there are a number of things more disconcerting, but few are as sudden. Or as hard on the skull. Your basic hailstorms are born high in the upper atmosphere and tend to come downwards without warning. They are also endowed with malice, and supernaturally good aim! Hailstorms disrupt traffic and play merry hells with the soft fruit industries, but have given many a window merchant or glass eye manufacturer a much-needed boost in business. The most dangerous variant is the hailstorm of frogs, although this is welcomed by Brindisian chefs as it keeps the icehouse bills down. Suggested sacrifices to: What, the Sky Goddess; Friflo, the Goddess of Unexpected Spills. Consider converting to Omnianism, as Om is big on falling out of the sky.
The Rather Large Gazunda 21 Jan - 18 Feb
Disaster to beware: blizzard
A full-blown blizzard is Nature's equivalent of a rowdy block party. When all the winter elements combine, the result is a beast that's part hurricane, part tornado, part avalanche, part hailstorm and all ornery. Unwary visitors to blizzard country are frequently found, when the spring thaw comes, as rather large icicles less than four feet from the privy. But how can you tell when an ordinary, dusts-the-landscape-charmingly-with-pretty-white-powder snowfall is likely to become a blizzard? Well, if you open your front door and get pelted with what feels like a whole herd of Special Snowballs†, the best plan is to hope that you've laid in enough root vegetables to last you until springtime. Beware: blizzards can bring out your Inner Cannibal. Or your mother-in-law's. Suggested sacrifices to: Brasbal and Frosantit, Hublandish twin gods of ice and snow. Well really, any Hublands or Chimeran gods will do the trick here. You might also try invoking the Ice Giants.
† The ones with the cleverly concealed rocks in the centres.
Lesser Umbrage 19 Feb - 20 Mar
Disaster to beware: heatwave
It's funny how the first people to complain about cold winter weather are so often the first to complain about summer heat! A true heatwave is no laughing matter, though. Road paving melts - people melt! - the young, the old and the sick collapse even faster than usual, and all trollish business comes to a stony end for the duration. Heat waves are no respecter of the high and mighty, either. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to rule a city-state when your black robes are stifling? One good thing about heat waves is that the crime rate goes down (good news because the Watchmen are too heat-exhausted to chase criminals anyway). Another is that the female clothing ratio also goes down, although the sight of large matrons wearing very little can also cause fainting. The best way to ride out a heat wave is in a nice cool pole-dancing club; at least the dancers won't be complaining about having to take their clothes off for strangers. Suggested sacrifices to: Thrrp, Charioteer of the Sun; Scrab, Pusher of the Ball of the Sun; Cubal, just to be safe.
Wednesday, August 31, 2005
August 2005
Well, my dear Zodiac-ettes, it's another poetry month! Sessifet, Goddess of the Afternoon, has decided to favour my Muse, and you'll just have to suffer, hat hat hat. But in the spirit of horoscopy (not to be confused with horology, which isn't at all what it sounds like) I've chosen poetry to honour a famous Discworldian of each Sign. Some of these poems may bear a certain resemblance to pieces of Roundworld music with rocks in; feel free to sing along with any you recognise. Be warned that the one for Hoki may require an alarming amount of lung power; I suggest you see Archchancellor Ridcully for breath control lessons.
The Adamant Hedgehog 21 Mar - 20 Apr
For Sergeant Jackrum, a big man under the Hedgehog.
Gather 'round, my little lads
My sons, for you're as much as
A soldier's life awaits you now
Sign here, and kiss the Duchess
Gather 'round, my little lads
The future's looking rosy
A swagger and a pair of socks
Will keep your trousers cosy
My oath, I'm not a violent man
Though I've seen battles many
With macho milit'ry men whose Mums
Once named them Priss or Jenny
Superior officers I've dragged
For miles, to save their bacon
Soft women's clothes I've never worn
But, for my lads, I've taken
So gather 'round, my little lads
The first one's on the house
Get shaved, and then we'll hit the pub
Last one's a big girl's Blouse!
Gahoolie, the Vase of Tulips 21 Apr - 21 May
For C.M.O.T. Dibbler, entrepreneur and Gahooligan.
I burn my candle at both ends
It will not last the night
But look you on my wares, good friends
And buy! The price is right!
I've everything you need or want
Come here and take a look!
Some "special" orders? Easy! (Those
I'll get by hook or crook)
I've sausages and buns, the best
That Sator Square can boast
I've figgins, only two weeks old
(They soften when you toast)
I've magic books from old U.U.
Such knowledge should be shared!
(Oh yes, they're badgered, wolved and foxed -
(But only slightly beared)
Perhaps some saucy postcards? Psst!
They're here inside my coat
Just tenpence each, these treasures - and
That's cutting my own throat!
Herne the Hunted 22 May - 21 Jun
For the Abbot of the History Monks, often born under Herne.
I am just an Abbot and my story's often told
I have re-lived my existence
For a pocketful of bikkits and a nice 'lephant
I never jest
Still, Lu-Tze hears what he wants to hear
And sweeps away the rest, hmmm, wannnawannapotty!
Asking only for some pablum, I come back to do my job,
But I get no Offlers
Just the strangest looks from Death each time I'm passing through
I do declare, I would rather be a Yeti
't least I'd get to keep my hair
Lai la lai lai, lai la lai wannawannabikkit!
Lai la lai, waah! waah! Lai la lai lai wanna nap!
Lai la lai, waah! waah! Lai la lai lai lai la waah, burp me now...
The Wizard's Staff and Knob 22 Jun - 22 Jul
For Nanny Ogg, who knows all there is to know about knobs.
There was an old lady of Lancre
For bags of spare cash she did hanker
She wrote a cook-book
So successful, it took
Strong salts to revive her poor banker.
This tome, which outsold all competers
Inflamed the community leaders
Her "harmless cook-book"
Was so racy, it took
Strong salts to revive her male readers.
Her pudding was rather surprising
Her oyster pie, quite catalysing
The hausfraus of Ankh
Have old Nanny to thank
When their husbands find some things...arising.
Bilious, God of Hangovers 23 Jul - 23 Aug
For Dr Dinwiddie, Bursar of UU, born under Bilious.
They're coming to give me dried frogs, ha ha!
They're coming to give me dried frogs!
My madness encumbers
But I'm good with numbers
They're coming to give me dried frogs!
They're locking me in Room 3b, ha ha!
They're locking me in Room 3b!
My condition's worser
I'm totally Bursar
They're locking me in Room 3b!
They're taking me in to see Hex, ha ha!
They're taking me in to see Hex!
If he can't compute me
He'll thaumic-reboot me
They're taking me in to see Hex!
Mubbo the Hyena 24 Aug - 23 Sept
For Sergeant Colon, the Watch's best Mubboon.
Some people call me the time-waster
Some people call me the Watchman of Ankh
Some people call me "fat sergeant"
Cos I'm built like an armour-plated tank
People laugh about me
Say I'm getting it wrong, getting it wrong
Well, don't you worry, Nobby, don't worry
Cos I'm right here, guarding the Brass Bridge all night long
Cos I'm a slacker, slumpie-packer
Like a bear when knackered
Takin' all that I can cadge
I'm a bodger, I'm a codger
I'm a danger-dodger
Just a blackguard with a badge, oooh
That's the sweetest chair that I ever did see,
I really love the Watch House, want to drink some tea
Lovin' dog-ends, lovin' dog-ends all the time
Ooeee Nobby, someone else can stop crime!
The Small Boring Group of Faint Stars 24 Sept - 23 Oct
For Rincewind, a Boring'un if ever there was...
Beware - if you care
To keep your face fair -
The Beings from the Dungeon Dimensions
They're twisted and odd
They're after your bod
With naught but the worst of intentions
Be fleet on your soles
Should they come through holes
Or leaks in Reality's gizzard
A half-brick (in sock)
Will give them a shock
Especially if you're a Wizzard!
Androgyna Majestis 24 Oct - 22 Nov
For the ever so majestic Dean of Unseen University.
Sing Yo! for the life of a Dean!
Sing Yo! for the life of a Dean!
I don't much mind if the other wizards laugh
'Cos I've got a knob enormous on my nice big staff!
Sing Yo! for the life of a Dean!
Sing Yo! for the life of a Dean!
I don't much care if I'm slow and fat,
'Cos I've got a lot of sigils on my pointy hat!
Sing Hut! for the life of a Dean!
I'm rough and I'm tough and I'm mean!
And I'll have a little snack, maybe a goose and some pork pies and
Second Breakfast and Elevenses and, oh, another little snack just to
tide me over in the hours between!
Great T'Phon's Foot 23 Nov - 21 Dec
For Seldom Bucket, famous Footy and cheesemaker.
'Twas opera, and the smarmy choir
Did gripe and grumble in the wings
All starving were the ballet girls
As the fat lady sings.
Beware the Opera Ghost, old son!
The murd'rousness, the manic laugh
Beware the plainclothes cop, and shun
The canapes - they're naff.
She took her part-time cat in hand
Long time the agile Ghost they sought
Then Greebo sprang as the singers sang
And mrrow! The Ghost was caught!
"And hast thou pawed the Opera Ghost?
"Come to my arms, you soft old thing!
"O Disc-ous joy! Champagne ahoy!"
And the fat lady sings.
Hoki the Jokester 22 Dec - 20 Jan
For Lord Hong, a noted (late) Hokian.
I am the very model of a modern mad Grand Vizier
My enemies are busy plotting plots, but I am busier
I know the Art of War, and lots of hist'ry Anhk-Morporkian
I even have a full tradit'nal cossie I look dorky in
I'm very well acquainted, too, with murders quite artistical
My knowledge of applying poison's positively mystical
About schemes dark and dirty I'm extremely savoir-faireian
I surely can't be bested by some pension-age barbarian!
"He surely can't be bested by some pension-age barbarian!"
I'm very good at origami and exquisite cruelty
I know what evil lurks, no person civilised's yet fooled me
In short, although my schemes are getting dafter yet and dizzier
I am the very model of a modern mad Grand Vizier!
"He is the very model of a modern mad Grand Vizier!"
The Rather Large Gazunda 21 Jan - 18 Feb
For Angua von Uberwald, Gazundian of the Watch.
I come home in the full moonlight
Carrot says, "When you gonna live your life right?"
My muzzle's full, so I can only say "Grrr!"
Cos girls just want to have fur
Oh girls, they want to have fur.
The Watch calls in the middle of the night
Captain yells, "Why'd you give Lord Rust such a fright?"
Oh Carrot dear, don't you call me a cur
Cos girls just want to have fur
Oh girls just want to have fur.
That's all we really want
Soft fur
When the tracking work is done
Someone to comb out those burrs
Cos girls just want to have fur,
Were-girls just want to have fur.
Lesser Umbrage 19 Feb - 20 Mar
For B.S. Johnson, a fondly remembered Umbragian...not.
Steam-driven shoehorns and exploding teapots
Minuscule castles and city-sized whatnots
Bows with iron bowstrings and forks with soft tines
These are a few of my fav'rite designs
Dangerous devices (with well-meant intentions)
Plumbing that dips through the Dungeon Dimensions
Unstable vats for reannual wines
These are a few of my fav'rite designs
When the mood strikes
When my brain's bright
When the bills are due
I'll simply recycle my fav'rite designs
And may the gods pity...you!
The Adamant Hedgehog 21 Mar - 20 Apr
For Sergeant Jackrum, a big man under the Hedgehog.
Gather 'round, my little lads
My sons, for you're as much as
A soldier's life awaits you now
Sign here, and kiss the Duchess
Gather 'round, my little lads
The future's looking rosy
A swagger and a pair of socks
Will keep your trousers cosy
My oath, I'm not a violent man
Though I've seen battles many
With macho milit'ry men whose Mums
Once named them Priss or Jenny
Superior officers I've dragged
For miles, to save their bacon
Soft women's clothes I've never worn
But, for my lads, I've taken
So gather 'round, my little lads
The first one's on the house
Get shaved, and then we'll hit the pub
Last one's a big girl's Blouse!
Gahoolie, the Vase of Tulips 21 Apr - 21 May
For C.M.O.T. Dibbler, entrepreneur and Gahooligan.
I burn my candle at both ends
It will not last the night
But look you on my wares, good friends
And buy! The price is right!
I've everything you need or want
Come here and take a look!
Some "special" orders? Easy! (Those
I'll get by hook or crook)
I've sausages and buns, the best
That Sator Square can boast
I've figgins, only two weeks old
(They soften when you toast)
I've magic books from old U.U.
Such knowledge should be shared!
(Oh yes, they're badgered, wolved and foxed -
(But only slightly beared)
Perhaps some saucy postcards? Psst!
They're here inside my coat
Just tenpence each, these treasures - and
That's cutting my own throat!
Herne the Hunted 22 May - 21 Jun
For the Abbot of the History Monks, often born under Herne.
I am just an Abbot and my story's often told
I have re-lived my existence
For a pocketful of bikkits and a nice 'lephant
I never jest
Still, Lu-Tze hears what he wants to hear
And sweeps away the rest, hmmm, wannnawannapotty!
Asking only for some pablum, I come back to do my job,
But I get no Offlers
Just the strangest looks from Death each time I'm passing through
I do declare, I would rather be a Yeti
't least I'd get to keep my hair
Lai la lai lai, lai la lai wannawannabikkit!
Lai la lai, waah! waah! Lai la lai lai wanna nap!
Lai la lai, waah! waah! Lai la lai lai lai la waah, burp me now...
The Wizard's Staff and Knob 22 Jun - 22 Jul
For Nanny Ogg, who knows all there is to know about knobs.
There was an old lady of Lancre
For bags of spare cash she did hanker
She wrote a cook-book
So successful, it took
Strong salts to revive her poor banker.
This tome, which outsold all competers
Inflamed the community leaders
Her "harmless cook-book"
Was so racy, it took
Strong salts to revive her male readers.
Her pudding was rather surprising
Her oyster pie, quite catalysing
The hausfraus of Ankh
Have old Nanny to thank
When their husbands find some things...arising.
Bilious, God of Hangovers 23 Jul - 23 Aug
For Dr Dinwiddie, Bursar of UU, born under Bilious.
They're coming to give me dried frogs, ha ha!
They're coming to give me dried frogs!
My madness encumbers
But I'm good with numbers
They're coming to give me dried frogs!
They're locking me in Room 3b, ha ha!
They're locking me in Room 3b!
My condition's worser
I'm totally Bursar
They're locking me in Room 3b!
They're taking me in to see Hex, ha ha!
They're taking me in to see Hex!
If he can't compute me
He'll thaumic-reboot me
They're taking me in to see Hex!
Mubbo the Hyena 24 Aug - 23 Sept
For Sergeant Colon, the Watch's best Mubboon.
Some people call me the time-waster
Some people call me the Watchman of Ankh
Some people call me "fat sergeant"
Cos I'm built like an armour-plated tank
People laugh about me
Say I'm getting it wrong, getting it wrong
Well, don't you worry, Nobby, don't worry
Cos I'm right here, guarding the Brass Bridge all night long
Cos I'm a slacker, slumpie-packer
Like a bear when knackered
Takin' all that I can cadge
I'm a bodger, I'm a codger
I'm a danger-dodger
Just a blackguard with a badge, oooh
That's the sweetest chair that I ever did see,
I really love the Watch House, want to drink some tea
Lovin' dog-ends, lovin' dog-ends all the time
Ooeee Nobby, someone else can stop crime!
The Small Boring Group of Faint Stars 24 Sept - 23 Oct
For Rincewind, a Boring'un if ever there was...
Beware - if you care
To keep your face fair -
The Beings from the Dungeon Dimensions
They're twisted and odd
They're after your bod
With naught but the worst of intentions
Be fleet on your soles
Should they come through holes
Or leaks in Reality's gizzard
A half-brick (in sock)
Will give them a shock
Especially if you're a Wizzard!
Androgyna Majestis 24 Oct - 22 Nov
For the ever so majestic Dean of Unseen University.
Sing Yo! for the life of a Dean!
Sing Yo! for the life of a Dean!
I don't much mind if the other wizards laugh
'Cos I've got a knob enormous on my nice big staff!
Sing Yo! for the life of a Dean!
Sing Yo! for the life of a Dean!
I don't much care if I'm slow and fat,
'Cos I've got a lot of sigils on my pointy hat!
Sing Hut! for the life of a Dean!
I'm rough and I'm tough and I'm mean!
And I'll have a little snack, maybe a goose and some pork pies and
Second Breakfast and Elevenses and, oh, another little snack just to
tide me over in the hours between!
Great T'Phon's Foot 23 Nov - 21 Dec
For Seldom Bucket, famous Footy and cheesemaker.
'Twas opera, and the smarmy choir
Did gripe and grumble in the wings
All starving were the ballet girls
As the fat lady sings.
Beware the Opera Ghost, old son!
The murd'rousness, the manic laugh
Beware the plainclothes cop, and shun
The canapes - they're naff.
She took her part-time cat in hand
Long time the agile Ghost they sought
Then Greebo sprang as the singers sang
And mrrow! The Ghost was caught!
"And hast thou pawed the Opera Ghost?
"Come to my arms, you soft old thing!
"O Disc-ous joy! Champagne ahoy!"
And the fat lady sings.
Hoki the Jokester 22 Dec - 20 Jan
For Lord Hong, a noted (late) Hokian.
I am the very model of a modern mad Grand Vizier
My enemies are busy plotting plots, but I am busier
I know the Art of War, and lots of hist'ry Anhk-Morporkian
I even have a full tradit'nal cossie I look dorky in
I'm very well acquainted, too, with murders quite artistical
My knowledge of applying poison's positively mystical
About schemes dark and dirty I'm extremely savoir-faireian
I surely can't be bested by some pension-age barbarian!
"He surely can't be bested by some pension-age barbarian!"
I'm very good at origami and exquisite cruelty
I know what evil lurks, no person civilised's yet fooled me
In short, although my schemes are getting dafter yet and dizzier
I am the very model of a modern mad Grand Vizier!
"He is the very model of a modern mad Grand Vizier!"
The Rather Large Gazunda 21 Jan - 18 Feb
For Angua von Uberwald, Gazundian of the Watch.
I come home in the full moonlight
Carrot says, "When you gonna live your life right?"
My muzzle's full, so I can only say "Grrr!"
Cos girls just want to have fur
Oh girls, they want to have fur.
The Watch calls in the middle of the night
Captain yells, "Why'd you give Lord Rust such a fright?"
Oh Carrot dear, don't you call me a cur
Cos girls just want to have fur
Oh girls just want to have fur.
That's all we really want
Soft fur
When the tracking work is done
Someone to comb out those burrs
Cos girls just want to have fur,
Were-girls just want to have fur.
Lesser Umbrage 19 Feb - 20 Mar
For B.S. Johnson, a fondly remembered Umbragian...not.
Steam-driven shoehorns and exploding teapots
Minuscule castles and city-sized whatnots
Bows with iron bowstrings and forks with soft tines
These are a few of my fav'rite designs
Dangerous devices (with well-meant intentions)
Plumbing that dips through the Dungeon Dimensions
Unstable vats for reannual wines
These are a few of my fav'rite designs
When the mood strikes
When my brain's bright
When the bills are due
I'll simply recycle my fav'rite designs
And may the gods pity...you!
Sunday, July 31, 2005
July 2005
This month's astral theme - Secrets, Lies and Clacks Flimsies - is a very up-to-the-minute one, inspired by the long-awaited release of a minor Roundworld book about the education of a young Wizzard. Watching the rumours, misdirection and "spoilage" fly has been rather entertaining, hasn't it? - so here are some hints about secrets your Signs will lead you to in the next month. As Mistress Ogg is fond of saying, a secret shared is a burden halved, and it doesn't half get the free drinks rolling! Do bear in mind, though, that on the Disc "spoilage" is something that happens to cheesemakers, pie sellers and costermongers, and "slash" is something one does with a sword for self-defence and *never* involves red-headed twins or saturnine Potions Masters...
The Adamant Hedgehog 21 Mar - 20 Apr
Your temptation: when the Moon hits your eye like a stale Dibbler pie, you will come across a Clacks flimsy that came from Pseudopolis Yard (though how it comes into your possession, only the gods know). The message details a hot tip about the notorious Quirm Post Office Bandit - when he's likely to hole up in Ankh-Morpork, where he'll be staying, and the amount of loot he's likely to have with him. Your stars favour a trip to Ankh on that date. What do you do?
My advice: tell no one, but hire yourself a local guide who will sort out all those fiddly details like your Thieves' Guild Visitor Voucher. And buy a new suitcase. One of those handy ones with hundreds of little legs and a boundless capacity for gold, silver, family heirlooms...
Note: when an eel hits your eye *from* a stale Dibbler pie, that's a moray.
Gahoolie, the Vase of Tulips 21 Apr - 21 May
Your temptation: a sojourn down Short Street on the 9th will lead you to an innocent-looking piece of paper advertising a meeting of the Koom Valley Re-enactment Society. When treated with wahoonie juice and held near an open flame, however, secret plans for a real battle to settle the score once and for all are revealed. The plans include an ambush of Chrysoprase's viewing party, so the Dwarfs are obviously Up To Something. What do you do?
My advice: cut up your old copies of The Times and use various letters and words to compose an anonymous message to the Watch, then book that holiday in sunny Brindisi that you've always talked about.
Herne the Hunted 22 May - 21 Jun
Your temptation: a shopping receipt from your weekly sojourn to the Dwarf Quarter turns out to be someone else's - a tally of some extremely personal personal items ordered by the current Low King of the Dwarfs. These are the sort of personal items that, if made public, could cause a major schism in the entire Dwarf community. It's a perfect recipe for blackmail! What do you do?
My advice: invest in Uberwald silver; there may a sudden closure of those new mines in the near future, and you'll be set to make a fortune from the rarity value. Alternatively, invest in cosmetics; there may be a sudden dramatic rise in sales to vertically challenged customers.
The Wizard's Staff and Knob 22 Jun - 22 Jul
Your temptation: during the next New Moon, in the Street of Small Gods, you will find a carelessly discarded contract from the Guild of Assassins, relating to a certain Disc-famed celebrity. Even more fascinating than the potential inhumee's name and price are the cautionary notes detailing some very...unexpected features and habits of said celebrity, all unknown to the admiring public. What do you do?
My advice: under no circumstances should you try to use this information to get free drinks from student Assassins! Instead, make at least a dozen copies and hide them in really creative places. Then take that nice Lord Downey out for a drink at your expense. Think of it as insurance.
Bilious, God of Hangovers 23 Jul - 23 Aug
Your temptation: when taking the curative waters of Bad Baden-Worse during the week of the 20th, you will discover complete instructions for performing the other Morris Dance, in plain language and including diagrams that could be easily followed even by teenage witch-wannabes in black lace and black eyeliner. Any unauthorised performance of that dance could unbalance the space-time continuinuinuum. What do you do?
My advice: this is a job for a true professional. Learn to perform the Rite of AshkEnte - the egg and mouse blood version that can be done in any scullery, sans skulls and dribbly candles - and delegate, delegate, delegate!
Mubbo the Hyena 24 Aug - 23 Sept
Your temptation: whilst dragging your luggage off the roof of the Ankh-Bonk weekly coach on the 11th, you come across a yellowed parchment envelope which turns out to contain a love letter from a Lady M of Uberwald. Its contents are, to put it mildly, astonishing, as they reveal a dark secret about the Patrician himself; a secret that could at the very least cause rather strained relations between the ruler of A-M and the Duke of Ankh. What do you do?
My advice: you might want to consider turning this over to Drumknott. After hiring a very fast horse.
The Small Boring Group of Faint Stars 24 Sept - 23 Oct
Your temptation: during a stars-favoured cleanout of Room 3b at Unseen University on the Ides of next month, you discover a final exam results notification addressed to one M. Ridcully, which gives the real scores from his Doctor of Thaumology examination plus comments about young Ridcully's true level of magickal ability. What do you do?
My advice: practice dodging very expertly aimed crossbow bolts and staff blasts, then demand that requisition for extra coal in your quarters and lecture room. You'll have a lovely warm winter.
Androgyna Majestis 24 Oct - 22 Nov
Your temptation: when picking up your laundry on the 22nd, you come across an Appointment Book belonging to the Guild of Seamstresses. It contains names and details that could blow Ankh society higher than the result of another explosion in Jimkin Bearhugger's distillery. You have a pretty good idea what The Times would pay you for even one page. What do you do?
My advice: now is the time for a discreet trip to the Guild house in Sheer Street. You'll never again have to wonder what to get your brothers, uncles and other male relatives for birthday and Hogswatch presents - and it won't cost you a penny. Ever. Sometimes saving money is wiser than, erm, earning it.
Great T'Phon's Foot 23 Nov - 21 Dec
Your temptation: a spelunking expedition in the Ramtop foothills during Quarter-Moon sees you finding a Last Will and Testament of one C. Ironfoundersson. Apart from the usual (passing on his herrydeterry axe, hammer and helmet, ecksetra), there's a suspiciously large bequest to the Sanctuary for Lost and Homeless Lycanthropes. The A-M criminal element would love to know about that! What do you do?
My advice: return the Will to Mr Ironfoundersson. Not only will you be quietly thanked for your honesty, but you might get a free tour of the fabled back room at the Dwarf Bread Museum. And no...animal will ever break into your henhouse and eat your chickens.
P.S. Actually, as it's *his* will, that would be "Apart from the, usual..."
Hoki the Jokester 22 Dec - 20 Jan
Your temptation: the Happy Families elixir you bought from a passing Lancre Witch doesn't appear to have worked. At Gibbous Moon, you take it to a nearby student wizard for analysis. It turns out to be a potion that can be used to open a portal to the Realm of the Elves. By coincidence, the stars favour a trip to your cousin in Lancre that very week...your cousin who thinks that Elves are really, really cool...your cousin who always complains that life's far too boring. What do you do?
My advice: put the bottle in a bag of rubbish and bury it at the bottom of the local tip. Then take your cousin for a nice exotic meal at the new KFC (Klatchian Fiery Cuisine) takeaway and remind her of the goings-on at the King's wedding. And forcibly remove her black eyeliner.
The Rather Large Gazunda 21 Jan - 18 Feb
Your temptation: on your way to make a sacrifice to Offler (on the propitious 26th), you overhear a conversation in a shadowed alleyway. According to one of the dialoguists, Queen Kelirehenna of Sto Lat is going to be assassinated by a cadre of Temporal Revisionists and replaced by a reanimated Duke of Sto Helit (courtesy of a cadre of Neck Romancers). This news could play havoc with the Sto Plains cabbage futures market and severly affect the A-M economy. What do you do?
My advice: who ya gonna call? Susan Sto Helit. Not only is she politically involved here (whether she likes it or not), but she can deal with the problem in the, erm, family way. Sometimes what we inherit from our grandparents is more useful than vintage antimacassars.
Lesser Umbrage 19 Feb - 20 Mar
Your temptation: a dark-robed Figure strides past your window on the night of the 7+1th. When it's passed - and when you've crawled back out of the laundry cupboard - you notice a pale sparkle on the lawn and upon investigation, discover that it's a tiny golden lifetimer. Engraved with the words MR T. PRATCHETT, ROUNDWORLD. What do you do?
My advice: don't even THINK about it.
The Adamant Hedgehog 21 Mar - 20 Apr
Your temptation: when the Moon hits your eye like a stale Dibbler pie, you will come across a Clacks flimsy that came from Pseudopolis Yard (though how it comes into your possession, only the gods know). The message details a hot tip about the notorious Quirm Post Office Bandit - when he's likely to hole up in Ankh-Morpork, where he'll be staying, and the amount of loot he's likely to have with him. Your stars favour a trip to Ankh on that date. What do you do?
My advice: tell no one, but hire yourself a local guide who will sort out all those fiddly details like your Thieves' Guild Visitor Voucher. And buy a new suitcase. One of those handy ones with hundreds of little legs and a boundless capacity for gold, silver, family heirlooms...
Note: when an eel hits your eye *from* a stale Dibbler pie, that's a moray.
Gahoolie, the Vase of Tulips 21 Apr - 21 May
Your temptation: a sojourn down Short Street on the 9th will lead you to an innocent-looking piece of paper advertising a meeting of the Koom Valley Re-enactment Society. When treated with wahoonie juice and held near an open flame, however, secret plans for a real battle to settle the score once and for all are revealed. The plans include an ambush of Chrysoprase's viewing party, so the Dwarfs are obviously Up To Something. What do you do?
My advice: cut up your old copies of The Times and use various letters and words to compose an anonymous message to the Watch, then book that holiday in sunny Brindisi that you've always talked about.
Herne the Hunted 22 May - 21 Jun
Your temptation: a shopping receipt from your weekly sojourn to the Dwarf Quarter turns out to be someone else's - a tally of some extremely personal personal items ordered by the current Low King of the Dwarfs. These are the sort of personal items that, if made public, could cause a major schism in the entire Dwarf community. It's a perfect recipe for blackmail! What do you do?
My advice: invest in Uberwald silver; there may a sudden closure of those new mines in the near future, and you'll be set to make a fortune from the rarity value. Alternatively, invest in cosmetics; there may be a sudden dramatic rise in sales to vertically challenged customers.
The Wizard's Staff and Knob 22 Jun - 22 Jul
Your temptation: during the next New Moon, in the Street of Small Gods, you will find a carelessly discarded contract from the Guild of Assassins, relating to a certain Disc-famed celebrity. Even more fascinating than the potential inhumee's name and price are the cautionary notes detailing some very...unexpected features and habits of said celebrity, all unknown to the admiring public. What do you do?
My advice: under no circumstances should you try to use this information to get free drinks from student Assassins! Instead, make at least a dozen copies and hide them in really creative places. Then take that nice Lord Downey out for a drink at your expense. Think of it as insurance.
Bilious, God of Hangovers 23 Jul - 23 Aug
Your temptation: when taking the curative waters of Bad Baden-Worse during the week of the 20th, you will discover complete instructions for performing the other Morris Dance, in plain language and including diagrams that could be easily followed even by teenage witch-wannabes in black lace and black eyeliner. Any unauthorised performance of that dance could unbalance the space-time continuinuinuum. What do you do?
My advice: this is a job for a true professional. Learn to perform the Rite of AshkEnte - the egg and mouse blood version that can be done in any scullery, sans skulls and dribbly candles - and delegate, delegate, delegate!
Mubbo the Hyena 24 Aug - 23 Sept
Your temptation: whilst dragging your luggage off the roof of the Ankh-Bonk weekly coach on the 11th, you come across a yellowed parchment envelope which turns out to contain a love letter from a Lady M of Uberwald. Its contents are, to put it mildly, astonishing, as they reveal a dark secret about the Patrician himself; a secret that could at the very least cause rather strained relations between the ruler of A-M and the Duke of Ankh. What do you do?
My advice: you might want to consider turning this over to Drumknott. After hiring a very fast horse.
The Small Boring Group of Faint Stars 24 Sept - 23 Oct
Your temptation: during a stars-favoured cleanout of Room 3b at Unseen University on the Ides of next month, you discover a final exam results notification addressed to one M. Ridcully, which gives the real scores from his Doctor of Thaumology examination plus comments about young Ridcully's true level of magickal ability. What do you do?
My advice: practice dodging very expertly aimed crossbow bolts and staff blasts, then demand that requisition for extra coal in your quarters and lecture room. You'll have a lovely warm winter.
Androgyna Majestis 24 Oct - 22 Nov
Your temptation: when picking up your laundry on the 22nd, you come across an Appointment Book belonging to the Guild of Seamstresses. It contains names and details that could blow Ankh society higher than the result of another explosion in Jimkin Bearhugger's distillery. You have a pretty good idea what The Times would pay you for even one page. What do you do?
My advice: now is the time for a discreet trip to the Guild house in Sheer Street. You'll never again have to wonder what to get your brothers, uncles and other male relatives for birthday and Hogswatch presents - and it won't cost you a penny. Ever. Sometimes saving money is wiser than, erm, earning it.
Great T'Phon's Foot 23 Nov - 21 Dec
Your temptation: a spelunking expedition in the Ramtop foothills during Quarter-Moon sees you finding a Last Will and Testament of one C. Ironfoundersson. Apart from the usual (passing on his herrydeterry axe, hammer and helmet, ecksetra), there's a suspiciously large bequest to the Sanctuary for Lost and Homeless Lycanthropes. The A-M criminal element would love to know about that! What do you do?
My advice: return the Will to Mr Ironfoundersson. Not only will you be quietly thanked for your honesty, but you might get a free tour of the fabled back room at the Dwarf Bread Museum. And no...animal will ever break into your henhouse and eat your chickens.
P.S. Actually, as it's *his* will, that would be "Apart from the, usual..."
Hoki the Jokester 22 Dec - 20 Jan
Your temptation: the Happy Families elixir you bought from a passing Lancre Witch doesn't appear to have worked. At Gibbous Moon, you take it to a nearby student wizard for analysis. It turns out to be a potion that can be used to open a portal to the Realm of the Elves. By coincidence, the stars favour a trip to your cousin in Lancre that very week...your cousin who thinks that Elves are really, really cool...your cousin who always complains that life's far too boring. What do you do?
My advice: put the bottle in a bag of rubbish and bury it at the bottom of the local tip. Then take your cousin for a nice exotic meal at the new KFC (Klatchian Fiery Cuisine) takeaway and remind her of the goings-on at the King's wedding. And forcibly remove her black eyeliner.
The Rather Large Gazunda 21 Jan - 18 Feb
Your temptation: on your way to make a sacrifice to Offler (on the propitious 26th), you overhear a conversation in a shadowed alleyway. According to one of the dialoguists, Queen Kelirehenna of Sto Lat is going to be assassinated by a cadre of Temporal Revisionists and replaced by a reanimated Duke of Sto Helit (courtesy of a cadre of Neck Romancers). This news could play havoc with the Sto Plains cabbage futures market and severly affect the A-M economy. What do you do?
My advice: who ya gonna call? Susan Sto Helit. Not only is she politically involved here (whether she likes it or not), but she can deal with the problem in the, erm, family way. Sometimes what we inherit from our grandparents is more useful than vintage antimacassars.
Lesser Umbrage 19 Feb - 20 Mar
Your temptation: a dark-robed Figure strides past your window on the night of the 7+1th. When it's passed - and when you've crawled back out of the laundry cupboard - you notice a pale sparkle on the lawn and upon investigation, discover that it's a tiny golden lifetimer. Engraved with the words MR T. PRATCHETT, ROUNDWORLD. What do you do?
My advice: don't even THINK about it.
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