Tag: Neil Gaiman

Book: “Good Omens” (Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman)


[This post originally appeared in Dullicious, where I blogged as Barbie-dull for several years.]

Amy lent me “Good Omens” by Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman. An excellent book; very funny, from the foreword to the “about the author by the other author and vice versa”.

They write in the foreword that the authors

“didn’t know they were going to write the most repaired book in the world.”

and that they have

“signed a delightfully large number of paperbacks that have been dropped in the bath, gone a worrying brown color, got repaired with sticky tape and string, and, in one case, consisted entirely of loose pages in a plastic bag.”

And also that

“the books are often well read to the point of physical disintegration; if we run across a shiny new copy, it’s usually because the owner’s previous five have been stolen by friends, struck by lightning or eaten by giant termites in Sumatra.”

I purchased of copy of this book in the San Jose airport last February on my way to Boston via Las Vegas. And then flights were delayed and I was stuck in Las Vegas for 9 hours. That gave me ample time to walk to the Strip, with my book in a plastic bag, purchase a few gifts from Vegas, place them in the plastic bag and go get my next flight. Unfortunately, I left the plastic bag somewhere in the Boston airport after landing.

Amy, I’m done with your book, thanks so much for lending it. As soon as I’m done writing this entry, I’ll be upstairs to give it back to you.

what’s so triffic about creating people as people and then gettin’ upset ‘cos they act like people

[This post originally appeared in Dullicious, where I blogged as Barbie-dull for several years.]

“It doesn’t matter!” snapped the Metatron. “The whole point of the creation of the Earth and Good and Evil–”
“I don’t see what’s so triffic about creating people as people and then gettin’ upset ‘cos they act like people,” said Adam severely. “Anyway, if you stopped tellin’ people it’s all sorted out after they’re dead, they might try sorting it all out while they’re alive. If I was in charge, I’d try makin’ people live a lot longer, like ole Methuselah. It’d be a lot more interestin’ and they might start thinkin’ about the sort of things they’re doing to all the enviroment and ecology, because they’ll still be around in a hundred years’ time.”

“Good Omens”
By Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman

Say goodbye to your friend

[This post originally appeared in Dullicious, where I blogged as Barbie-dull for several years.]

They [house plants] were huge and green and glorious, with shiny, healthy, lustrous leaves.

This was because, once a week, Crowley went around the flat with a green plastic plant mister, spraying the leaves, and talking to the plants.

He had heard about talking to plants in the early seventies, on Radio Four, and thought it an excellent idea. Although talking is perhaps the wrong word for what Crowley did.

What he did was put the fear of God into them.

More precisely, the fear of Crowley.

In addition to which, every couple of months Crowley would pick out a plant that was growing too slowly, or succumbing to leaf-wilt or browning, or just didn’t look quite as good as the others, and he would carry it around to all the other plants. “Say goodbye to your friend,” he’d say to them. “He just couldn’t cut it…”

Then he would leave the flat with the offending plant, and return an hour or so later with a large, empty flower pot, which he would leave somewhere conspicuously around the flat.

The plants were the most luxurious, verdant, and beautiful in London. Also the most terrified.

“Good Omens”
By Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman

no matter how grandiose

[This post originally appeared in Dullicious, where I blogged as Barbie-dull for several years.]

“Except for one or two minor details,” said Aziraphale smugly.
“But it nearly worked,” snapped Crowley, feeling he should stick up for the old firm.
“You see, evil always contains the seeds of its own destruction,” said the angel. “It is ultimately negative, and therefore encompasses its downfall even at its moments of apparent triumph. No matter how grandiose, how well-planned, how apparently foolproof an evil plan, the inherent sinfulness will by definition rebound upon its instigators. No matter how apparently successful it may seem upon the way, at the end it will wreck itself. I will founder upon the rocks of iniquity and sink headfirst to vanish without trace into the seas of oblivion.”
Crowley considered this. “Nah,” he said, at last. “For my money, it was just average incompetence.”

“Good Omens”
By Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman