Seanachai

Silly girl. No, we won't. We shall wrap our glad noise around the very stars. For there are none like us. Or you. Or any of us. Or anything. What was I saying? Hell, let's everyone dance. Or sing. For tonight, I know, that someone is looking down on us all. Someone who's hair flows like the milky way. Who loves us all. Mind, she thought most of you buggers were as daft as a brush. Have you ever seen such stars?

Oh deary, deary me. What, is that a smile on my face? Perhaps the Fair Emma has posted? Berli told me that the world might be full of anger and sadness. Who can stay angry, or sad, when our own Lady of the 'Pool has posted? Stay with us, Emma dear. On Friday I'm off to see your small namesake chase doggies all around the room. She's real good at it. Those damn dogs don't know which way to turn.

Oh deary, deary me. What, is that a smile on my face? Perhaps the Fair Emma has posted? Berli told me that the world might be full of anger and sadness. Who can stay angry, or sad, when our own Lady of the 'Pool has posted? Stay with us, Emma dear. On Friday I'm off to see your small namesake chase doggies all around the room. She's real good at it. Those damn dogs don't know which way to turn.

You will come here. You will post. Everyone will tell you that you are too stupid to live. You are. Post again. When you post again, make it mean something. Show us who you are. Make being who you are mean something. We like people to mean something. There are such precipices here! Such sudden stops! Don't look at your feet. You'll become disoriented, and probably throw up. If you throw up, try and spatter on someone else who's just as lost and clueless. Never fear about being lost and clueless. Everyone begins lost and clueless. Show a proper reverence. Reverence is is due to the Ladies of the 'Pool. Take your tone from those who've gone before you. Bow before no man. Insult no man through a lack of reverence. You are here to say 'I am here'. Many have gone before you. Most of them were just as fecking stupid as you are. And we now treasure the fact that they were stupid. Most of them are still stupid. But even the worst of them knows more than you do. You've come here to Challenge. You'll be insulted. You'll be dismissed. You'll wonder why you came. But if you stay, and post, and Challenge, you'll become part of a Brotherhood that does not fade. That does not fail. You'll be one of us. And we'll send the proper notices to your family. If you're here to simply say 'yeah, I posted there', then you have our pity. How empty your life must be. But if you are accepted here, you will never lack for those who hate you. And, even in your most desperate moment, you will not be alone. We will always be beside you. You will never be alone. Now, single out some stupid bugger, and challenge him to a game. The Justicar will be along shortly to make you raise one leg, and cough.

You will come here. You will post. Everyone will tell you that you are too stupid to live. You are. Post again. When you post again, make it mean something. Show us who you are. Make being who you are mean something. We like people to mean something. There are such precipices here! Such sudden stops! Don't look at your feet. You'll become disoriented, and probably throw up. If you throw up, try and spatter on someone else who's just as lost and clueless. Never fear about being lost and clueless. Everyone begins lost and clueless. Show a proper reverence. Reverence is is due to the Ladies of the 'Pool. Take your tone from those who've gone before you. Bow before no man. Insult no man through a lack of reverence. You are here to say 'I am here'. Many have gone before you. Most of them were just as fecking stupid as you are. And we now treasure the fact that they were stupid. Most of them are still stupid. But even the worst of them knows more than you do. You've come here to Challenge. You'll be insulted. You'll be dismissed. You'll wonder why you came. But if you stay, and post, and Challenge, you'll become part of a Brotherhood that does not fade. That does not fail. You'll be one of us. And we'll send the proper notices to your family. If you're here to simply say 'yeah, I posted there', then you have our pity. How empty your life must be. But if you are accepted here, you will never lack for those who hate you. And, even in your most desperate moment, you will not be alone. We will always be beside you. You will never be alone. Now, single out some stupid bugger, and challenge him to a game. The Justicar will be along shortly to make you raise one leg, and cough.

I worked my arse off for 2 years to get one of my college buddies to play the game. Now he's cursing Lars (as all right minded folk should), and I'm playing my second game against his 8 year old son. Four new players ain't no bad thing. And I did, by all the gods, do a nasty little happy dance when I beat that 8 year old bugger in the first game! Nyah, nyah, nyah, kid! I beat your little arse like a gong! It's been a bad month. I barely achieved a major victory over the 8 year old. And that only after his bloody father screwed up the first quarter of the game. But I'm still counting it as a win, damn you lot.

No one who has never run through a cow pasture, barefoot and drunk at 3 AM will ever know true happiness. The stars a banner of beauty, flaming across heaven, the gasping, drunken whoops of yourself and your friends as you find yourself running across the grass, leaping tussocks, the sudden slipping, sliding on something that feels like slightly crusted oatmeal, knowing that once you hit the fence, you'll be comparing feet and mocking those whose are greenest. All these are life. Take darkness, beauty, foolishness and ****e out of the equation, and you've taken living out of life.

Thanks, Steve. I want to share something with you that I ended up saying to a friend the other day, while coming to grips with some family issues during this. I told her: Life teaches us that the world is full of stupid, annoying people that you sometimes just want to slap the ****e out of. Loss teaches us that we're just another one of those people. My inner Kat says thank you for your thoughts and prayers. My inner Croda, of course, has painted a big white bullseye on your crotch. I just hope to all the gods that during this period of confusion I don't hug your crotch, while giving your prayers a devastating boot.

Thanks to all here for their good wishes and kind thoughts. And to all of those of you who've pointed out here, and in private emails, that those who've passed on remain within us forever, I can only say you're right. My Dad died about 15 years ago, and I know he is still there in my heart. For one thing, at this time of the year he keeps trying to get me to turn on football games. Kat was a big Vikings fan, and now that she's joined him in there I'll probably have to watch every Vikings game this season. Fortunately they both held Green Bay in contempt, and despised the vile Dallas Cowboys, so there won't be a lot of internal arguments. My inner Kat wants me to give each and every one of you a big, big hug. My inner Croda, on the other hand, is strenuously advocating a grief management program that involves beef jerky, windshield wiper fluid cut with grain alcohol, and pornographic Japanese animation*. On that note, can anyone suggest something to narcotize an inner Croda? Barring that, can anyone recommend a good beef jerky, and a windshield wiper fluid that has a piquant, effervescent quality? *PS - What's with the tentacles? Jesus, I know those people eat a lot of squid and such, but this business with the tentacles is just plain disturbing.

Well, I can help you with this Forum. You know, people who are untrustworthy scum, raving lunatics, etc. The people who actually control the Whole Board. Topics that will cause people to burst into tears or get dead carp thrown at you. Threads to avoid, that sort of thing. I can even point out known Australians, explain why 65% of the inhabitants of Finland post on this Board, and which people not to poke with a stick. But I'm not much help with the game. Hell, even Boo keeps beating me. Oh, and you can go into the General Forum, these days. But don't go into the Political GF unless you take one of the older kids with you.

The only thing I expected from my first battles against the AI were to get through them without humiliation. Then I played the AI to hone my skills. Then I played the AI to get the confidence I needed to go out and get the real reward: The burning wreckage of my opponents vehicles, the small crumpled figures littering the landscape, and the lamentations of Australians rising up in howled chorus to please the ears of the gods.

Hello, you lot. I will give you now, all my news. On Thursday, the 16th, I had dinner with my family. We talked of many weighty matters, and I told some bad jokes. On Friday, the 17th, I had dinner with two friends of mine. One went off to milk goats. One drove me home and helped me into the house, and threw away all my mail, which had overflowed the love seat onto the floor. We listened to Shawn Colvin's 'Riding Shotgun Down the Avalanche' On Saturday, the 18th, Seanachai cried, for a while, in the mid-afternoon. On or about 2:15 PM my little sister, Kat, died peacefully of respiratory failure after being removed from the life support that has sustained her for the last two weeks. She had defeated cancer for the fourth time, but her lungs were too damaged by Chemotherapy and inflammation to sustain her. "No! I fight on! I fight on! I fight on! Yes, all my laurels you have riven away And all my roses; yet in spite of you, There is one crown I bear away with me, And to-night, when I enter before God, My salute shall sweep all the stars away From the blue threshold! One thing without stain, Unspotted from the world, in spite of doom Mine own! — And that is My white plume..." -Cyrano In loving memorial, to the strongest person I have ever known, from her loving brother.

Now, everyone get back to a groggish discussion of infantry, please. I was enjoying the read.

Michael, I am, after all, the Nice One of the Peng Challenge Thread. Of course, that's a bit like being Albert Speer. So I have to find ever more imaginative ways of being a compleat bastard. By running around the Forum 'apologizing' for you, and attempting to humanize you, I show my artistry in this matter. First, I convince newbies that you're human, which misleads them, possibly into horrible errors in personal judgment. And it annoys you. So, as you can see, not only have I done two perfectly nasty things, but I come off as a 'nice guy' in the process. I like to think it's a sort of 'genius'. Really, they ought to ban me for this sort of thing.

And don't think Grog Dorosh is an ogre, lad! I'm told he once did apologize to an old woman who he knocked down a flight of stairs. Well, actually, he apologized for hitting her with her walker when he tossed it down to her...

KG, for Dorosh, that's kind of like a 'sorry'. Pay it no mind, lad. You'll get a lot more abuse dumped on you if you hang around, and after a while, you'll even come to like it. This is simply a very contentious lot, and they usually don't mean anything personal by it. They tend to be a bit 'short' with sweeping generalizations, and unsupported opinionated statements. But anyone can play, as they say! I, personally, read more than I contribute. Of course, I post far more than I read. But that's a completely different issue

Although there are many places where this would not be true, it is true of Minneapolis. Even more so of St. Paul. A man who shows up in jail reeking of fox urine will be treated with genteel respect. They will either assume that 1) You are a hunter, or 2) A fox has actually peed on you. Hunters are respected in Minnesota, and we are a State of outdoorsmen. If a fox has peed on you, you must have 'the right stuff'. Foxes are, by nature, clever and shy of humans, so if you've gotten close enough to one to get it to have a slash on you, you must be pretty good in the woods. They'd probably put us in the 'Gubernatorial' cell. That's the one with the brass plaque that is usually occupied by the Ventura kid, or the sons of various local politicos. It's very nice.

Yeah, and Lars is always good for a couple of bucks as he stumbles out of whatever bar has ejected him.

Yes, but I don't have any standards to maintain. I wasn't tapped to be one of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypso, after all. Besides, my call for 'general hatred' could only go on for so long. I find it much easier now to greet new arrivals with a courteous, personal request for hatred. I like to think it makes me the 'natural' choice for their hatred. IronSapper, please ignore Grog Dorosh's bid to make you his personal Mortal Enemy. It's just a bit of sibling rivalry he hasn't worked through with Michael Emrys, aka 'Famine'.

You're becoming really 'needy' with your hatred. The other Horsemen are going to laugh at you.

Now now, I insist that our Michael get more than three letters to write him down! He's a sensitive soul, our Michael. A tender plant. Besides, you'll annoy the Donkey, handing out his epitaph to all and sundry. Besides, a short burst of arrogance from Grog Dorosh is like a hug welcoming you to the Forum! Oh, and on that note, Welcome to the Forum! Perhaps you'd care to send me a card, postcard, or letter filled with your hatred of me? If it's not too much trouble, that is. I can send you my address, if you're interested? It's been such a dreadfully long time since the last postcard...

And now, something for Lars because he's my bestest buddy: She's into superstition black cats and voodoo dolls I feel a premonition that girl's gonna make me fall She's into new sensation new kicks and candle light she's got a new addiction for every day and night She'll make you take your clothes off and go dancing in the rain she'll make you live the crazy life or she'll take away your pain like a bullet to your brain upside inside out she's living la Vida loca she'll push and pull you down she's living la Vida loca her lips are devil red and her skins the color mocha she will wear you out she's living la Vida loca living la vida loca woke up in New York City in a funky cheap motel she took my heart and she took my money she must of slipped me a sleeping pill she never drinks the water makes you order French Champaign and once you had a taste of her you'll never be the same she'll make you go insane upside inside out she's living la Vida loca she'll push and pull you down she's living la Vida loca her lips are devil red and her skins the color mocha she will wear you out she's living la Vida loca living la vida loca She'll make you take your clothes off and go dancing in the rain she'll make you live the crazy life or she'll take away your pain like a bullet to your brain upside inside out she's living la Vida loca she'll push and pull you down she's living la Vida loca her lips are devil red and her skins the color mocha she will wear you out she's living la Vida loca living la Vida loca living la vida loca

If the shelters are all full, we just panhandle enough to ride the Light Rail all night...

We'll never starve, Joe. Not while the local parks are filled with mallards and geese too bloody stupid not to walk right up to a man who appears to be offering them a piece of bread, even if he does have a noose in the other hand. Only trouble is the bloody things taste like fritos when you cook them up. It's their damn diet. Besides, we get a very good class of dumpster here. And for much of our year, whatever is thrown into them stays pretty fresh because of natural refrigeration provided by our bracing climate.

Never think it, lad. They love you. They're having a whip round, in fact, to buy you a clue. Now, what if the Merkava was brought back in a time machine to wipe out the German armies, but the Germans countered with their own time machine and kidnapped and brought back McGyver to work for them? I don't know that that single tank would do them much bloody good then, would it, eh?