Seanachai

True, but how come you didn't send the man to Ker Dessel? A rigourous program of playing Ker Dessel scenarios will give him new insights into the nature of scenario balancing.

Not that there's anything wrong with that. </font>

(In his best Maynard G. Krebs voice:) You rang? </font>

Apologist. Collaborator. MS Security Debacle Denier. Pondscum! Two more Gate's toadies to carry your desk chair back and forth from the refrigerator to the computer.

Silence, worm! Hie thee to the MBT. I have tasks for you.

You did? When? I want to have that thread bronzed. Michael </font>

Actually, the question is: how many PC's are running an operating system whose designer's only concern has ever been to saturate the market, offering all sorts of 'interconnective' bells and whistles aimed at convincing the user that they were using the most powerful and useful OS possible, while in fact the result was endless, endless security holes, exploitable errors and a monolithic disregard for consequences to the user? I have a feeling that Microsoft's 'what, me worry?' attitude toward security has even more to do with the problem than the prevalence of their operating system. If their software systems were secure, or even largely secure (nothing can be 100%, after all), then even the fact that they were on every machine in the world wouldn't be a big deal. And your example of writing code that disrupted a Mac is absurd. Obviously anyone can write code that can disrupt a machine and deliver it if they are in the room with it, with full access to insert the code. Not quite the same as an Operating System that is routinely breached remotely from sources too numerous to detail, and which offers so many ways of raising havoc to even the least talented of 'hackers'. Your logic is shoddy, and offends me. Quiver, rodent! I will see your whiskers tremble! BOO! Where is Boo! I have a task for him!

Daily. But I find it heartening to hang out here with you lot, as it helps put to bed many of them, and convinces me that all too often I'm just being too hard on myself.

Roight, then. I'm back. Largely back. I'm still limping (don't ask, because I can't explain it, only describe it, and it's not edifying), and whatever the heck I did to my external harddrive (home of everything 'Combat Mission'), has been resolved, restored, restored from backup, or in extreme cases, gotten from email cache archives (such as turns that seem to have gone West...). So, if I owe you a turn, and you post here, you should see something tonight. If you don't read this Thread and I owe you a turn, you'll get a surprise tonight. If I owe you a turn, and you post here, and your name is Boo, then I will send you a turn even though you are an unworthy, ankle-biting lower animal that has not the sense to move away from the spot where it has just relieved itself. If you are Gaylord Focker, you caught the fall-out from a good mood suddenly and dramatically being reversed by upsetting news, but you're still a wanker. The more you're flogged, the likelier that you might someday amount to something. So we shall lay on whenever you even look like you need correction.

What's the problem, old soul? Is it more than just Dalem's execrable Thread title?

Boo, as I've explained to my dozen or so opponents, the fact that all of them are screaming for turns is proof that the problem lies with them, rather than me. It is so much more logical to assume that 12 people are wrong, rather than 1, especially when I am the One. Alternatively, you may simply not be worthy.

I've always said that Emrys was a very perceptive man. Boo, you're starting to sound like out-takes from 'Manos, Hands of Fate'.

Sigh. By means of the velvet fist encased within the iron glove. Just as Satan has always ruled. Serve them up pain, but promise them everything. You are a pillock. You know that, don't you Gaylord? From women we are born. Women are the first law-givers in our lives. When we reach adolescence, they enrapture our senses and provide us with endless opportunities to prove we can bring more pleasure than pain to a world that otherwise provides them with nothing but burdens and abuse. When we reach the maturity that acknowledges our own deaths, they bring forth life that will live after us, and give us a glimpse of immortality. When we grow old, and too often forget all that we have known, both good and bad, they are there to remind us of all that we have been. Grow up into a man, born of woman, who will rediscover the beauty that gives birth to the world. Or shut the **** up. I, for one, am no longer interested in your adolescent ****e about 'women'. You're on the edge with me, lad. Catch a quick grip on something approaching adulthood, and limit yourself to calling all the hopeless arseholes who post here 'losers', and abusing them, and give a miss to the teenage misogyny that you're using as a ladder to try and elevate yourself. You've neither lived long enough, nor done enough, nor accomplished any f'ing thing at all, to merit mocking anyone else's world experience, and certainly not those who fed you, bathed you, and wiped your ass for the years necessary to get you to this point. Before you post one f'ing word more in this thread, I want to know how many sisters you have, and what their names are, and I want to know your mother's name. You tell us that, and you can carry on with your pretensions of having sprung forth from the forehead of a god without benefit of woman. Because we'll be invoking your mother's and sister's names with every post you make. Or, of course, you could just Sod Off. Always a realistic alternative for pissants who talk about 'women's lib' like they themselves had managed to end poverty and feed the hungry, rather than simply being just another woman's disappointing by-blow. [ August 09, 2003, 04:00 AM: Message edited by: Seanachai ]

Hmmmm.. not that I am saying your soul is not a romantic one, but the most romantic amongst the Olde Ones!! I for one wouldn't make a bet on it. </font>

It was a simple show, and you're a simple man. I thought that replacing a highly intelligent dog with a rather mentally impaired Ohio man would make the whole venture post-modern enough to play well to today's audiences. </font>

Fertility rites in Ohio involve Budweiser, greasy bill caps, and bad fast food. Also, probably, at some point, the use of the endearment 'punkin' (for "my little pumpkin"), a vegetable which Ohioans apparently find 'erotic'. Hard to understand why until you look at a bunch of Ohioans standing in line at Burger King and notice a certain 'uniformity' of physique.

It was a simple show, and you're a simple man. I thought that replacing a highly intelligent dog with a rather mentally impaired Ohio man would make the whole venture post-modern enough to play well to today's audiences.

You've got to be taught To hate and fear, You've got to be taught From year to year, It's got to be drummed In your dear little ear You've got to be carefully taught. You've got to be taught to be afraid of people who've defeated your arse in a game, which would be everyone that you've ever played, You've got to be carefully taught. You've got to be taught before it's too late, Before you are six or seven or eight, To hate all the people the Cesspoolers hate, You've got to be carefully taught!

Las Vegas Timmy What's that, Boo? A Showgirl has fallen down in her dressing room and needs resuscitation? Boo Bark! Bark! Whine. Las Vegas Timmy And you think the blackjack dealer is plotting against us?! Boo Bark! Wasn't someone advocating that I turn my talents to writing for Television? I can see a natural here with 'The Adventures of Boo and Las Vegas Timmy'.

Could someone explain to me why Boo is singing love songs to Berli? Did I miss an episode of the Thread in which everything changed? Or is Spock going to show up any minute with a beard and inform me that the way one gets a lower member number is by assasinating the current holder? Boo, far be it from me, the most 'romantic' of soul amongst the Olde Ones, to discourage you in this new passion, but having met and dealt with Berli fairly extensively, I can tell you that you're unlikely to be requited. Well, at least not until Hell freezes over, thaws, is extensively landscaped with nice green lawns, neatly trimmed hedges, and white marble statuary of fauns and dryads, then frozen again, then beaten with white hot whips of raw energy, and finally filled with small white bunnies. Should that occur, I imagine that the next 'reply to all' email that will be making the rounds amongst 'Poolers will be about the wonderful weekend the two of you spent in Vegas together, where you stayed with 'Timmy'.

Somebody cut-off the donkey's ears and bring them to me. I have an amusing idea for a Holiday centerpiece.

Never let us forget our proud heritage, Joe, best epitomized by that rallying cry of the Cesspool: All against One, and One Against All!

Er...do we get to choose whose arms? Because if you're talking about hugging me yourself, I'd rather have a live weasel sigmoidoscopy. Really, Boo. You should consider doing some recruiting, and trying to drum up some allies. I simply can't think of anything you could offer any of us, short of promises to torture yourself, that would induce any of us to forego visiting righteous abuse upon you.

Thump, Thump, Thump ME BOO! snarl THIS IS BOO'S STICK! Thump, Thump, Thump BE AFRAID! Ah, Boo. Poet Laureate for the primitive set. 'Muffin' and 'Las Vegas Timmy' shall yet go free to determine their own destiny, Boo.