thinking about how the watch books and the moist books are all about the city, and what would happen if it was moist given charge of the city watch and vimes working in the post office. the easy answer is obviously that it wouldn't work; lipwig's heart lies in selling sizzle, whereas vimes' primary interest is ascertaining where the sausage was on the night in question. but i'm compelled by moist looking at criminality from the other side - it's the same thought process, but the criminal should end up inside the cell, the patrician beams - suddenly faced more often with the consequences of petty crimes, with the victims, with the messy nasty aftermath. vimes, drunk and depressed in a dead-end job in the post office, which no-one uses or respects anyway, seeing the next postmaster die and hearing about the clacksmen dying and deciding: no more. moist would think carrot was his parole officer; vimes would struggle, somewhat, with a nine foot man of clay hiding the bearhuggers all the time. the watch would be shiny and sexy and the post office wouldn't be, not at all, but there would be a very angry man hauling letters about the place, mumbling to himself about setting them on fire because he's not having someone else's words in his damn head. the summoning dark wouldn't like lipwig; he knows its tricks. moist wouldn't arrest an army, or the patrician, because he doesn't believe in the law that way, but he'd talk everyone into such confusion that they'd forget what he was ambassadoring for in the first place. vimes wouldn't race the clacks, but he'd check the vault for gold properly when he took on the bank and get its previous owners arrested, causing widespread chaos and giving lipwig a headache. it'd work out of sheer bloody-mindedness and love of the city and it would shake out all wrong - but it would shake out nonetheless.

also lipwig would think it was so funny, being head cop, and vimes would love playing with trains. they deserve that.

Vimes needs some rest.

I am Carrot. Is the exhibit on a different continent? I'll still be excited about a good museum exhibit.

Even shorn of her layers of protective clothing, Lady Sybil Ramkin was still toweringly big. When she spoke, every word was like a hearty slap on the back and clanged with the aristocratic self-assurance of the totally well-bred. The vowel sounds alone would have cut teak. She had a mass of chestnut hair; a wig Vimes learned later. No-one who had much to do with dragons kept their own hair for long.

Terry Pratchett / Guards! Guards!

Sometimes I feel good and then I remember that then it arose and struck Vimes that, in her own special category, she was quite beautiful; this was the category of all the women, in his entire life, who had ever thought he was worth smiling at. She couldn't do worse, but then, he couldn't do better. So maybe it balanced out. She wasn't getting any younger but then, who was? And she had style and money and common-sense and self-assurance and all the things that he didn't, and she had opened her heart, and if you let her she could engulf you; the woman was a city.

discworld + midsomer murders dialogue

I am alright at sketching simple figures and I hope no one is going to throw up because of my colouring skill

Part two here

do you miss me? hehe 

I think the whole point of the Watch series is to show how immensely important a truly independent police is to a society. Pratchett created an extremely anti-authoritarian character as a representative of authority and made clear that in order to create justice, the police must treat every citizen equally, even the most powerful ones. He wrote eight books to show us one thing:

A TRULY INDEPENDENT POLICE TREATING EVERYONE EQUALLY IS THE ONLY WAY TO STOP THE WEALTHY FROM ABUSING THEIR POWER.

Despite his deep distrust of magic, he quite liked the wizards. They didn't cause trouble. At least, they didn't cause his kind of trouble. True, occasionally they fractured the time/space continuum or took the canoe of reality too close to the white waters of chaos, but they never broke the actual law.

Terry Pratchett, Men at Arms

you're stuck in a dungeon with a beautiful boy, and he won't tell you that he loves you but he loves you

Sam Vimes is Disco-coded.

I’ve been re-reading “guards! Guards!” and I have thoughts.

Serial alcoholic

Prone to forgetting important things

Regularly puts his foot in his mouth

Elicits a strange mixture of pity and respect from his peers

Is fully aware most of this is self inflicted

Somehow still an incredibly competent officer when the chips are down.

This man is one divorce away from crashing his car into the river.

She smiled at him.

And then it arose and struck Vimes that, in her own special category, she was quite beautiful; this was the category of all the women, in his entire life, who has ever thought he was worth smiling at. She couldn't do worse, but then, he couldn't do better. So maybe it balanced out. She wasn't getting any younger but then, who was? And she had style and money and common-sense and self-assurance and all the things that he didn't, and she had opened her heart, and if you let her she could engulf you; the woman was a city.

And eventually, under siege, you did what Ankh-Morpork had always done - unbar the gates, let the conquerors in, and make them your own.

Terry Pratchett / Guards! Guards!

i'm rereading Guards! Guards! And REALLY I didn't really remember Vimes being so........ how can I put this ..... subby.

Vimes is trembling in a haze of desire thinking. she's a general. she's a goddess. she's going to kill me. she's sex crazed. she's so BIG.

& Lady Ramkin is just like. talking about dragons and making a cup of tea.

Clausura, Discworld.

The Luggage and Samuel Vimes

Saw this tweet about the UK Prime Ministerial candidates (all members of the Conservative party) who are currently stabbing each other in the back in a revolting scramble for power:

And I thought of that bit in Night Watch

'What else?'

'Rather hopeful news, sir,' said Carrot, smiling. 'You know the Hooms? The street gang?'

'What about them?'

‘They've initiated their first troll member.'

'What? I thought they went around beating up trolls! I thought that was the whole point!’

'Well, apparently young Calcite likes beating up trolls, too.' 'And that's good?'

'In a way, sir, I suppose it's a step forward.'

'United in hatred, you mean?'

'I suppose so, sir,' said Carrot.