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February 2 - February 21, 2024
Most people were, after the initial confusion, somewhat relieved when they died. A subconscious weight had been removed. The other cosmic shoe had dropped. The worst had happened and they could, metaphorically, get on with their lives. Few people treated it as a simple annoyance that might go away if you complained enough.
I AM DEATH, NOT TAXES. I TURN UP ONLY ONCE.
I FIND THE BEST APPROACH IS TO TAKE LIFE AS IT COMES. “That seems very irresponsible . . .” IT’S ALWAYS WORKED FOR ME.
Your ancestor. Old Stoneface, indeed, as he was called. Commander of the City Watch in 1688. And a regicide. He murdered the last king of Ankh-Morpork, as every schoolboy knows.”
They were milling about, worried and unsure, and, like important men everywhere, when they were worried and unsure they got angry.
This is because human beings are not, technically, worth anything. A good racehorse, on the other hand, may be worth twenty thousand dollars.
And, while it was regarded as pretty good evidence of criminality to be living in a slum, for some reason owning a whole street of them merely got you invited to the very best social occasions.
“Spare the thunderbolts and spoil the congregation, eh?”
Sergeant Colon was impressed at his own cleverness. Throwing a punch could stop a fight, of course, but in this case it had a quarter of rum, gin, and sixteen chopped lemons floating in it.
Horsemen of a small Apocalypse. One had a duck, on his head, and because he was almost entirely sane except for this one strange particular he was known as the Duck Man. One coughed and expectorated repeatedly, and hence was called Coffin Henry. One, a legless man on a small wheeled trolley, was for no apparent reason called Arnold Sideways. And the fourth, for some very good reasons indeed, was Foul Ole Ron. Ron had a small grayish-brown, torn-eared terrier
“We’re all lyin’ in the gutter, Fred. But some of us’re lookin’ at the stars . . .”
The real world was far too real to leave neat little hints. It was full of too many things. It wasn’t by eliminating the impossible that you got at the truth, however improbable; it was by the much harder process of eliminating the possibilities.
And he’s mastered policing as it is practiced by the majority of forces in the universe, which is, basically, screaming angrily at people until they give in.
He’d taken all the gangs and squabbling groups and made them see that a small slice of the cake on a regular basis was better by far than a bigger slice with a dagger in it. He’d made them see that it was better to take a small slice but enlarge the cake.
People said that there was one law for the rich and one law for the poor, but it wasn’t true. There was no law for those who made the law, and no law for the incorrigibly lawless. All the laws and rules were for those people stupid enough to think like Cockbill Street people.
“Commander Vimes said someone has to speak for the people with no voices!”
“You really intend to proffer charges?’ “I’d prefer violence,” said Vimes loudly.
“The common people?” said Vimes. “They’re nothing special. They’re no different from the rich and powerful except they’ve got no money or power. But the law should be there to balance things up a bit. So I suppose I’ve got to be on their side.”
“Commander, I always used to consider that you had a definite anti-authoritarian streak in you.” “Sir?” “It seems that you have managed to retain this even though you are Authority.” “Sir?” “That’s practically Zen.”
‘Who guards the guards themselves?’
Law Is The Servant of Freedom. Freedom Without Limits Is Just A Word,”
“You Say To People ‘Throw Off Your Chains’ And They Make New Chains For Themselves?”
*Constable Visit was an Omnian, whose country’s traditional approach to evangelism was to put unbelievers to torture and the sword. Things had become a lot more civilized these days but Omnians still had a strenuous and indefatigable approach to spreading the Word, and had merely changed the nature of the weapons. Constable Visit spent his days off in company with his co-religionist Smite-The-Unbeliever-With-Cunning-Arguments, ringing doorbells and causing people to hide behind the furniture everywhere in the city.
