I received shipment of a book today. Written by a certain Terry Pratchett (name possibly spelt incorrectly) whom I adore as a writer, thinker and conveyor of ideas. He shapes our current world into the humorous (one that dates back many years, beginning with the origins of the discworld), showing the stupidity of politics, war, religion and all manner of humanities foibles.
I could wax lyrical about the man for an eternity.
I won't, but as a tribute to the man, and how much I appreciate him:
I received shipment of a 320 page story (in the small form factor, paperback) at midday. It's now nine O'clock, and I just finished it. Pyramids is the title, and yey, verily, it was good.
Actions speak louder than words, and I feel my actions today are a mark of genius writing.
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