(* which is true, but when has that ever mattered?) He wants the Inquisition to stop torturing him now, please.īut most of all, what he really wants, more than anything else, is for his god to Choose Someone Else.

He wants peace and justice and brotherly love. He wants to stop the persecution of a philosopher who has dared to suggest that, contrary to the Church's dogma, the Discworld really does go through space on the back of an enormous turtle (*). He wants to overthrow a huge and corrupt church.

There were postcards on the wall and a letter from a formerĬo-worker, giving thanks for the great retirement party his friends threw forĪnd it all meant this: that there are hardly any excesses of the most crazed psychopath that cannot easily be duplicated by a normal, kindly family man who just comes in to work every day and has a job to do.His god has spoken to him, admittedly while currently in the shape of a tortoise.īrutha is a simple lad. Most of them were chipped, and no two of them were the same. They had legends on them like A Present from the Holy Grotto of Ossory, or To the World’s Greatest Daddy. Their mugs, which each man had brought from home, were grouped around the kettle on the hearth of the central furnace which incidentally heated the irons and knives. The inquisitors stopped work twice a day for coffee. Workspace of pretty much most clusters of employees: Those machines for inflicting escalating levels of pain) that is like the

There are many aspects of their workspace (aside, of course, from One ambitious priest named Vorbis, the sort of monomaniacal fanatic who isĪnd with the Average Joes who work for them.Įarly in Small Gods, Pratchett offers a scene in which he describes the palace cellar where Vorbis’s orders for torture are carried out by a group of men called inquisitors. All of the evil stuff in this novel - and there’s a lot of tortureĪnd cruelty, cruelly inflicted - is rooted in organized religion, specifically

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