If for no other reason than to avoid the wretched prospect of going the whole of this ordurious month (I'm still in pain from the dental work I had last Thursday, thus putting the tin hat on the wretched thing) utterly Rave-less, here's a wonderful, moving and - of course - funny tribute from Neil Gaiman to his friend and quondam collaborator Terry Pratchett, as presented to an audience in San Francisco only a few hours after the great man's DEATH (erm, sorry, death):
(I have now started doing what I had - with perhaps some degree of pre-cognisance which would be more useful if it related to, say, lottery numbers - had thoughts about doing a few weeks ago; namely, re-reading the whole Discworld® canon from the start. Well, apart from the ones categorised as 'Young Adult' (*), which I've never got around to. My apologies to the man next door for any laughter which percolates through the bedroom wall late at night).
* A marketing term which translates as "We can't call them 'children' or even 'teenagers', so let's find an even more patronising description for them"