Seanachai

This is evolution in action, where it involves Elvis.

OH MY GOD, YOU'VE PROCREATED?!!! The stars above are shorn of all mystery or majesty, simply visible light reaching across a vast void from exploding hydrogen fires. Not the twinkling eyes of angels, nor the lights of heaven. No benevolent spirit looks down upon the earth, and for it there is no special provenance. It is simply earth, rock, water and magma passing meaninglessly through emptiness. There is no God. Boo has progeny.

Using the * to denote the shame of having lost a game to some Pooler has never been a good device, I feel. Originally, of course, it meant a 'loss to Peng, which was seen as a very shameful thing in the day, as the Army of Peng had only slightly better leadership than the State of Ohio. But what happened? Well, of course, as time went by, Peng improved. There came a point when Peng was, in fact, quite the vicious little Combat Mission thug. Of course, Peng eventually achieved Enlightenment, and passed over into a better world of purity and goodness where all men were brothers, and the only Republicans allowed to run for public office were those who could actually be seen in mirrors and who could safely ingest garlic (in other words, there were no Republican candidates for office). As a sad footnote to this success story, this Better World still looked exactly like Pennsylvania, which just goes to show that even Nirvana isn't all one could hope. Now, since Peng had, in fact, improved, suddenly 'losing to Peng' was no longer so signally shameful. Well, except in the sort of general way that it made Peng happy, and anything that makes Peng happy is probably a little sordid, if not actually shameful. But the point remains that there has not been anyone consistently so awful a player that a loss to them could be eternally considered 'shameful'. So, I propose that the 'Asterisk of Shame' now be applied to "Anyone who defeats Seanachai". For surely nothing is more shameful than to defeat me in a game of CM, or, in fact, to annoy me in any way whatsoever. But especially defeating me in CM. I know that those oponnents of mine who've done so have probably never overcome the feelings of shame they very rightly feel for having beaten me. I can only imagine the anguish they've suffered as they tried to determine whether the bad map, the unfair conditions or selections they'd made, or their own cheating and under-handedness were to blame for their victory. But in every case, I know that there were souls wrenched with guilt and sleepless nights out there (if for no other reason than that I'm not above calling my opponents, all liquored up, at 3 AM, to discuss with them 'the shame of having defeated me'). Now, let's get behind this very reasonable and well-thought out proposal to have all future 'defeators of Seanachai' marked with The Asterisk of Shame, and put some solid meaning back into the whole process of shame. Support me in this. After all, I know where all of you live, your phone numbers, and I just bought a new bottle of Irish whisky.

Marriage is the only adventure open to the cowardly. -Voltaire

Well, my imminent death no longer looms in such an empty way. Kitty still speaks of me. Not fondly, of course, but it is better to be mentioned, than to not be mentioned, as it were.

I piss upon you from a considerable height. You're a Squire, you will be a Squire, and you will stop all this whinging about not being able to be what you are. Which is a Squire. Bloody idjit. Now, stop staring around in that dazed way, wondering where the magic yellow rain is coming from, you half-witted bastard, and sing. Sing as though your very life depended on it. Or, rather, as though something truly important depended on it. A good song is like a pretty girl. Well, except that even a useless, dull, aging, somewhat amusing lackwit like yourself can come up with one. So, for most of you lot, a good song is even better than a pretty girl. Because you've actually got a shot at singing a good song. However badly. For most of you, doing a pretty girl, even badly, is so unlikely to happen that a jolly sing-song must loom like an epiphany of wonder.

Oh give it a rest. It was a very manly kiss. It's not like we cuddled afterward. I did, in fact, come home that very same night and write a lengthy post on the entire day. It had plots, subplots, witty exchanges, and dialogue of quite some quality. There were significant characters, wandering monks, and villagers. It was a masterpiece. If anyone finds what thread I actually posted it to, please let me know. Or even what forum. If you can narrow it down at all, I should be able to bring it home again. Chances are there's some very confused buggers trying to fit it into the reality of their ongoing message thread about granate ammunition. Or the triumph of right-wing politics. Or, perhaps, the proper way to cook asparagus. It's even possible that they're still running it through Bablefish in an attempt to cast it into their native language and find out what it has to do with the next community meeting. I shall, tomorrow, do my best to reveal to the yet unknowing world the truth about 'The Day on the Lake'.

Good Christ, are you hanging around watching my apartment? How apropos. I thought only the Government was doing that. Well, and here you go. I was writing this while you were posting, you utter lunatic. Hope it helps soothe the pain.

Well, how...very special. I've just spent some time trying to get caught up on the Thread, but I will probably have to have another go at it, as there were sections where my attention wandered. But I can say this, without fear of having to recant later: Getting caught up on this incarnation of the Thread of threads has made me want to live. Because only by a concerted effort of will can I extend my life long enough to get back the time I spent on the last hundred or so posts, and give that spent time some meaning. Any sort of meaning. Macrame hangings, for example. Normally something as utterly pointless as Macrame hangings would only convey some sort of meaning to the lives of manic-depressive women using 'Crafts' as a healing tool. But if I could gain back the time I spent reading the last lot of slurry, and used it to create Macrame hangings, I'd consider it time well spent. There's an amazing opportunity here, when you come to think of it. An aspect of the Peng Challenge Thread of infinite potential. When you consider the physical impact on the psyche intent on regaining the time lost reading gibberish by annoying pillocks, and how it stimulates the will to live, you can see that the Thread has the ability to actually extend the life of your more intelligent, thoughtful, and witty poster. Such as myself. Simply amazing. I mean, even a terminal case, written off by Medical Science, could stand the world on its head by the longevity imparted by the need to somehow regain the time spent reading this Thread, sometimes. I can see it now. Doctor: Madame, I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but... Distraught Wife: Yes, Doctor? Doctor: Well, there's simply no hope. Distraught Wife: None? beginning to weep, but not, if she's the 'Soon to Be Widow' of anyone who contributes here, in such a way as to put the rather handsome Doctor off too much by her histrionics Doctor: None. Well... Distraught Wife: Yes? Doctor: Well, there is one thing. Distraught Wife: Oh, Doctor, what is it? I'll...We'll try anything! Doctor: Madame, is your husband a man of intellect, iron will, and demanding standards? Distraught Wife: I guess...yes, yes, he is, Doctor! Doctor: Then I'm going to propose a radical, and possibly even illegal therapy. I want him to read 200 of the worst posts on the Peng Challenge Thread. Distraught Wife: And that will help? Doctor: If he's strong, and has the will to actually think, the outrage he'll feel will force him to live. No one with a brain won't somehow want to reclaim that time. Distraught Wife: Is it dangerous? Doctor: Of course it's dangerous! He might want to actually write a reply! But it's that, or pull the plug. Distraught Wife: I...I don't want him to suffer... Doctor: Ah, then you'd rather I just shot him full of morphine and let him slip away, rather than read the Thread, eh? Distraught Wife: considers the last few years of Combat Mission play No, no. I want him to think about...er, that is, I want him to live! Yes! Make him read the Thread! Doctor: Very good, Madame. Now, stand back, and shield your eyes. We're logging him on. Distraught Wife: What happens if this doesn't work? What if the damage is too great, and he's still escap- er, 'slipping away'? Doctor: Then we abandon all hope in God and man, and make him read the General Forum. Distraught Wife: Dear Lord! Doctor: Indeed, Madame. Sometimes our attempts to preserver them are more cruel than death itself.

Nothing is amusing, anymore. Please do me the favour of arguing over whether something is 'amusing', the way everyone does over 'what we should do to keep anything in the Peng Challenge Thread from being amusing'. Bugger. I just don't know. Had a bad few days. Came in here for a bit of a larf, and get nothing. Bugger.

Ahem....is anyone here claiming differently? :confused: </font>

Oh, sorry, forgot to chime in on the original, unbelievably half-witted topic. Well, I guess it boils down to how you represent the alphabetic characters, themselves just character representations of phonetics, given that you're talking about two very distinct, and very different 'alphabets'. You could take the approach: Gee, his name was 'Joseph Stalin'. I know that from my history text. How come the tank named after him wasn't spelled with a 'J'? Or you could say to yourself: Given that the Slavic language is completely different from English, and uses, in fact, a totally diferent set of characters ( or 'alphabet' ) to represent itself, and given that any representation in English is simply an approximation of the character set (which the Slavs think of as an 'alphabet') and the phonetics of a foreign language, why the hell is it that I'm puzzled about the fact that "Joseph Stalin", or 'JS' is represented by 'IS' in the game of Combat Mission? Or you could take the alternate approach of wondering to yourself, 'Am I thick, then? Why don't them foreigners spell things correctly?'

How about 'geographer'? I am not sure what use a cosmologist would be for a voyage confined to the planet. Michael </font>

It's so amusing when people interpolate Reality from computer games. Now, if you knew the 37 dead? And 212 wounded to what extent? And that left how many soldiers fit for duty? And, given the German practice of drawing troops from the same towns, what would this mean for an area? Anyone who talks about unit casualties with a jolly 'Isn't that rather great? I achieved the same results with smaller units in CMBB' is only fit to command digital troops.

Oh dear. Another one with attitude. Try more roughage, lad. Diet is very important to good mental health.

That seems like a fitting header for my words to Jim Boggs. Mister Boggs (may I call you Mister Boggs?), the best of luck to you and your lady. The best of everything, in fact. Health, Life, Love...Everything. This is a wonderful Board, and a fascinating Forum, and we are a nasty little Thread within it, redeemed by one thing: We treasure our enemity, and will not hate just anyone. I hate you, Jim Boggs. I hated you from the first post on the General Forum where I encountered you. And, when all the useless pissants, pillocks and arseholes have been removed from the scene, tossed into a hole, and tamped down by the boot of intelligence, I will still hate you. You will still be standing, of course. I wish your lady a speedy recovery. Take time not only to cherish her, but yourself. Two that stand as One are never alone. And never be concerned, lad, that this is a 'Challenge' Thread. It is, of course, but it's a Thread for posting on for those who want to post, and who have tasted deep of its waters. As far as I can tell, you've been dunked enough times to have swallowed enough wisdom to post simply because you wish to post. I find the fact that lenakonrad has taken you to Squire weird enough to not be able to comment more fully. Joe, there's some things you just have to sit back and wonder about. Mr. Boggs, hurry back to us when you can. Or visit us when you will. And let us know how you are doing. It's not all just the game, you know. A lot of it's the Thread.

Malakovski you degenerate, stop inflicting your cat pornography on the 'Pool. That I should live to see a Squire of mine debasing himself by posting feline fetishism shots on the Thread.

It's so humourous that Rune actually takes the time to 'describe' his abominations. All Rune Scenarios: There is always a lot of armour. It's only purpose is to die. Sometimes there is infantry. They die more quickly without accomplishing much of anything. The map is impossible to navigate from any direction. The purpose of this is never made clear by actually fighting through the battle, nor is it clear how the map was created, although one cannot ignore the idea that children's puzzle and maze books were used for the overall layout. Reinforcements will arrive, sometimes nearly non-stop. Their only purpose is to take over dying from the units who can no longer perform this ultimate function because they are dead. Explosions are good, more explosions are better. The ultimate 'Rune' scenario is one in which every single unit explodes within the first 60 seconds of combat. Many feel that this is the design ethic powering all his scenarios. When he finally achieves it, he will retire from scenario design.

Good God, who'd want their mouth 'showered with rich micro-active foam'?

Yes it is, Gaylord. The question is how it balances. </font>

Yes it is, Gaylord. The question is how it balances.

Lars? Fighting unclean urges? Putting a sheet between himself and a young woman? Is this the plot for some new and deeply disturbing George Lucas movie for children? Gaylord, your wits are sleepy. Go to bed. Although, I just don't know...Purgatory...how the hell could Lars only pull Purgatory? Lars, did you actually read the questions, or did you use your test taking skills from High School to answer according to a random pattern?

Why, Gaylord, that would be the star I was cast to by the arms of the windmill I did battle with. Do you see, lad, I was foolish, and when I sought to joust with it from the back of my fiery steed, Rosinante, I neglected to fasten my seatbelt. Well, needless to say, when my lance encountered the mighty arm of the windmill, I was plucked from my saddle, and cast up, up, up unto a star! As for the view from inside my ass? I don't know, Gaylord. I guess I don't spend as much time contemplating it as you do. You ought to get out in the fresh air, more, actually indulging your freedoms, rather than worrying about 'who's not the boss of you'. I'll always have a warm place in my heart for you, Gaylord. There's a better view there than the one you seem so focused on.

Why so you can lad ... and we can ignore you just as easily. Joe </font>

Lord General Mister Bill, I'm more than a bit dissapointed in you, lad. Even a 15 year old Canadian should probably grasp the fact that some things simply aren't done. I choose to take your boorish attacks on Ladies YK2 and Persephone as a combination of ignorance and the wilfull stupidity of exuberant youth. Quite probably you did not realize, or felt that we did not mean it, when we say that there are certain types of behaviour that will not be tolerated even in this low, loathsome, and rather silly place. Or perhaps you simply felt, in your youth and inexperience, that no one could tell you what to do, and that even vulgar and idiotic abuse of people not on the abuse range was okay if you felt like it. I could tell you that I understand because 'I was young once myself'. Of course, that's not true. I was never young. However, many, many years ago I do remember being a stupid little pillock who thought making an arse of himself was the same as being as good as everyone else. There is a certain accuracy to this sort of behaviour, given that so many people are stupid, useless pillocks. But, ultimately, it's better to mock and taunt from the vantage point of a star, rather than plunging into the drainage ditch of being 'just as good as everyone else'. It is, of course, easy to give people eighteen different types of ****e via the internet, knowing that they'll never encounter you in 'the Real World'. But anyone with any class will treat people, even on a 'taunting and taking the piss out' thread the same as they would if they met them face to face. If you can't look at your posts, your behaviour, and your attitude, all humour aside, and say that it would be the same here as it would be if they were sitting in your own living room, then you should amend your approach. It's that, lad, or having to admit to yourself that you're just a puffed up little coward without personal integrity, willing from the vantage point of anonymity and no consequences to strut about as though you were tough and cool. And just so you know: posting the words of someone else and acting as though they're your own lacks all class. Always credit the source. Then you reap the double reward of not only being hip to what was said, but of being smart enough to know who said it. You can shine by both your understanding andyour knowledge. Now, where's Malakovski? A Philosopher who can't come up with a 'Very High' rating for the level of Hell associated with Heretics? He must be a Suthern Philosopher... [ June 03, 2003, 12:37 AM: Message edited by: Seanachai ]