Samuel Vimes dreamed about Clues.
He had a jaundiced view of Clues. He instinctively distrusted them. They got in the way.
And he distrusted the kind of person who’d take one look at another man and say in a lordly voice to his companion, “Ah, my dear sir, I can tell you nothing except that he is a left-handed stonemason who has spent some years in the merchant navy and has recently fallen on hard times,” and then unroll a lot of supercilious commentary about calluses and stance and the state of a man’s boots, when exactly the same comments could apply to a man who was wearing his old clothes because he’d been doing a spot of home bricklaying for a new barbecue pit, and had been tattooed once when he was drunk and seventeen and in fact got seasick on a wet pavement.
What arrogance! What an insult to the rich and chaotic variety of the human experience!
He who fights with monsters should be careful he doesn’t become a monster himself. Unless that makes him more effective at fighting monsters. Like he becomes a badass werewolf who knows how to use a sword and has magic armor. That’d be so rad.
I want to get people into Welcome to Night Vale, but it’s so hard to sell like “hey if you like gay radio show hosts and totalitarian goverents and clouds that drop dead animals on small desert towns then boy do I have a show for you”
I usually settle for “Neil Gaiman, Stephen King and George Orwell run a Sim City”
For the fans who’s time, effort, and passion for the show was ridiculed by Jeff Davis and the cast by reading their fanfics, mocking their hard work and love for the characters they portray, it’s time we say enough.
For the fan who asked the cast the innocent question…