Not the bunch I'm reading now, but the bunch before. I'll start with this:
Even without a smattering of theological savvy it doesn't stretch the imagination to realise that the 'Four Horsemen' are not four-of-a-kind but are actually
three horsemen and a unicorn rider.
Or three asses and a pile of ass-dung.
Technically - three
causes and an
effect lumped together as four of a kind.
This illiterate lumping of frightening concepts for the medieval mind is explored to full homourous mayhem by Pratchett and Gaiman, adding to the hilarity the question of whether the Son of Evil would be as obedient to his Father as the Son of Good.
The undertone, subtext and liner notes take the humour to the point of distraction.
These guys on their own are a riot, together they are sublime.
While I agreed with the review of "Heaven to read and you'll laugh like hell!" I could only put down the book with a schoolboy groan of "Brilliant!", quite satisfied with time very well spent.
Some excerpts:
“Nor had he, as far as he knew, ever believed in anything. It had been embarrassing, because he quite wanted to believe in something, since he recognized that belief was the lifebelt that got most people through the choppy waters of Life. He'd have liked to believe in a supreme God, although he'd have preferred a half-hour's chat with Him before committing himself, to clear up one or two points. He'd sat in all sorts of churches, waiting for that single flash of blue light, and it hadn't come. And then he'd tried to become an official Atheist and hadn't got the rock-hard, self-satisfied strength of belief even for that. And every single political party had seemed to him equally dishonest. And he'd give up on ecology...Then he'd tried believe in the Universe, which seemed sound enough until he'd innocently started reading books with words like Chaos and Time and Quantum in the titles. He'd found that even the people whose job of work was, so to speak, the Universe, didn't really believe in it and were actually quite proud of not knowing what or even if it could theoretically exist.”
“There were people who called themselves Satanists who made Crowley squirm. It wasn't just the things they did, it was the way they blamed it all on Hell. They'd come up with some stomach-churning idea that no demon could have thought of in a thousand years, some dark and mindless unpleasantness that only a fully-functioning human brain could conceive, then shout "The Devil Made Me Do It" and get the sympathy of the court when the whole point was that the Devil hardly ever made anyone do anything. He didn't have to. That was what some humans found hard to understand. Hell wasn't a major reservoir of evil, any more than Heaven, in Crowley's opinion, was a fountain of goodness; they were just sides in the great cosmic chess game. Where you found the real McCoy, the real grace and the real heart-stopping evil, was right inside the human mind.”
“No one paid any attention to them. Perhaps they saw nothing at all. Perhaps they saw what their minds were instructed to see, because the human brain is not equipped to see War, Famine, Pollution, and Death when they don't want to be seen, and has got so good at it that it often manages not to see them even when they abound on every side.”
“God does not play dice with the universe; He plays an ineffable game of His own devising, which might be compared, from the perspective of any of the other players [i.e. everybody], to being involved in an obscure and complex variant of poker in a pitch-dark room, with blank cards, for infinite stakes, with a Dealer who won't tell you the rules, and who smiles all the time.”
―
Terry Pratchett/Neil Gaiman -
Good Omens: The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch