I love Constable Visit. 10/10 would not want to discuss religion with.*
*Except to see what crazy stuff he’d come up with from various religions across the Disc.
seen from Russia

seen from Malaysia
seen from Finland

seen from Malaysia

seen from United States

seen from Italy

seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from Moldova

seen from Germany
seen from South Korea
seen from Australia
seen from United States

seen from Mexico
seen from United States
seen from Germany
seen from China

seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States
I love Constable Visit. 10/10 would not want to discuss religion with.*
*Except to see what crazy stuff he’d come up with from various religions across the Disc.
The Very Reverend Mekkle, who'd taken Pastoral Practice, had advised that the rules about starch were only really a guideline, but Oats hadn't wanted to put a foot wrong and his collar could have been used as a razor.
He carefully lowered his holy turtle pendant into place, noting its gleam with some satisfaction, and picked up his finely printed graduation copy of the Book of Om. Some of his fellow students had spent hours carefully ruffling the pages to give them that certain straight-and-narrow credibility, but Oats had refrained from this as well. Besides, he knew most of it by heart.
Feeling rather guilty, because there had been some admonitions at the college against using holy writ merely for fortune telling, he shut his eyes and let the book flop open at random.
Then he opened his eyes quickly and read the first passage they encountered.
It was somewhere in the middle of Brutha's Second Letter to the Omish, gently chiding them for not replying to the First Letter to the Omish.
'... silence is an answer that begs three more questions. Seek and you will find, but frst you should know what you seek...'
Oh, well. He shut the book.
Who are you? said Om. The small god stirred. There was a city once, said the small god. Not just a city. An empire of cities. I, I, I remember there were canals, and gardens. There was a lake. They had floating gardens on the lake, I recall. I, I. And there were temples. Such temples as you may dream of. Great pyramid temples that reached to the sky. Thousands were sacrificed. To the greater glory. Om felt sick. This wasn’t just a small god. This was a small god who hadn’t always been small… Who were you? And there were temples. I, I, me. Such temples as you may dream of. Great pyramid temples that reached to the sky. The glory of. Thousands were sacrificed. Me. To the greater glory. And there were temples. Me, me, me. Greater glory. Such glory temples as you may dream of. Great pyramid dream temples that reached to the sky. Me, me. Sacrificed. Dream. Thousands were sacrificed. To me the greater sky glory. You were their God? Om managed. Thousands were sacrificed. To the greater glory. Can you hear me? Thousands sacrificed greater glory. Me, me, me. What was your name? shouted Om. Name? A hot wind blew over the desert, shifting a few grains of sand. The echo of a lost god blew away, tumbling over and over, until it vanished among the rocks. Who were you? There was no answer.
- Small Gods
God on the iPod.