Seanachai

Everyone has my bloody number. I don't mind Berli's 8 AM Sunday wake-up calls demanding why I'm not in church, all that much, but the Outer-Boarders attempting to sell me insurance are beyond the pale. Tell us, Hiram, what's your pet name for yourself, when you're pretending to be your own significant other? [ March 12, 2003, 01:14 AM: Message edited by: Seanachai ]

Hiram, you don't have to hate yourself, anymore. You don't have to worry that those groggy dreams you awake from, with the covers damp and in disarray, with thoughts of Adam West still spinning through your confused and self-loathing brain, mean that you aren't cherished for yourself. There's nothing wrong with you, Hiram. You're exactly the you that nature intended for you to be. Once you realize that, you won't have to sign on under two different screennames to pretend to be your own girlfriend. We're your friends, Hiram. You are a Knight of the Cesspool. It's all going to be alright.

I think, frankly, and with all honesty, you should pretty much fall down and buff my boots. Energetically. And with a lot less yapping.

Um, yes. Am I supposed to be pleased, or frightened by this remark?

Hmm? What was that? Did you lot say something?

I'm going to bed, now. When I awake, I wish to see at least the beginning...the twinklings, of a rebirth of wonder. How many of you lot realize the gift we've been given? How many of you realize how our every 'point of brilliance-lame jest-moment of annoying idiocy' are given a rough validity by all the things we've posted before? How many of you realize that you are standing in the foot-steps of Gnomes, and you're coming up short? I want to see a roll-call of Cesspool participation. A 'present, sir, and I've got a lovely bunch of coconuts' sort of response to who believes, and who simply wants to be believed. I'm getting private calls to put the Peng Challenge Thread to sleep. Forever. Stand up, and give us your own take.

I will agree, as an Olde One, to accept the presence of Bone Vulture here, as long as he agrees, forever and ever, to never ever post another wanking picture of Vanilla Ice here, or on any other thread of the Combat Mission Forum again. Barring the General Forum, of course, which is so f'ing stupid, in general, that there's no point in attempting to defend its integrity. Enough is enough.

I'm proud. I only wish The Grammont would show up a bit more, perhaps join in a jolly sing-song, make the odd pronouncement. You know the sort of thing. Hmm. Steve, I know you can't show any sort of preference, or favouritism, but what if we were to sacrifice an Australian in your honour? It's not a problem, after all. We've got tons of the wankers. There're days when we can't move around for their droppings.

I like the cut of your jib. I don' t like you, of course, but I wouldn't necessarily put you in your place with a good stomping if you showed up in the 'Pool with the proper attitude. You lost points for the whole 'd**k' reference. In the Peng Challenge, we like to think we don't need vulgarity in order to entertain, give people ****e, nor sort out all the wrongs of the world. Mind, we're not above vulgarity if it suits our purposes. Of course, given that 'unity of purpose' in the Peng Challenge Thread is like looking at a 'Mission Statement' for a Daycare Center opened up by the early Communist Party, you can imagine that there's a bit of confusion. A bit of give and take. A bit of...I simply don't know what We've got it all. Megalomaniacs. Idiots. Fools. Jolly sing-songs. Satan. Ladies. A Certain Disappointment With the State of the World. Ancient Powers. Storytelling. Sex. Death. And Bagpipes. I particularly recommend the Bagpipes. They're far more painful than Death, and they can carry a meaningful vibration out longer than Sex. [ March 10, 2003, 11:59 PM: Message edited by: Seanachai ]

Jeffrey, what have we told you about reproducing the entire bloody post, with pictures, just so you can post a nonsensical, two sentence comment on it? Wasn't it something along the lines of: STOP IT, YOU MENTALLY INCOMPETENT IDJIT! Remember that? Including a comment from the original post, or such, would surely be enough, now don't you think? Endlessly reposting pictures and nested quotes is one of the things that pretty clearly causes the Thread to crash.

BACK! BACK TO YOUR VEGEMITE, YOU UNNATURAL FIEND!

Hmmm...considers...I say we take Fuerte out and burn him as a witch.

The wind soughs across the frozen ice, hissing with driven snow particles that swirl almost like mist around the feet of two figures striding through the dark. One is short, but imposing, with whitening, wind tangled locks. The other is shuffling, arms wrapped around itself, visibly shuddering, with hissed curses counterpointing the wind. Seanachai: Ah, it is a hard world, trusty Foole, er, Vadr, a hard world indeed! Until you have suffered its ingratitude, as I have, you will never know...here, what the hell are you doing? Vadr: I'm freezing my arse off! This is horrible! Seanachai: (looks around) Well, it's a bit brisk. Typical Minnesota night, actually, for this time of year. It's above 0°, after all! Vadr: Oh, God! I'm gonna die! Seanachai: Nonsense! This'll make a man of you. Long overdue, in my opinion. Where are you from again? Vadr: Florida! Aaaaahhhh! I think my foot just fell off! Seanachai: Oh, stop whining! Now, as I was saying, the World is a harsh and ungrateful place...now what are you doing? Vadr: Trying to get my shoe out of this drift. Seanachai: Ah. I thought you were 'capering'. Pity. I thought you were trying to get into the whole 'Loyale Foole' thing. Vadr: whimper Seanachai: You know, you're not doing very well at this. Remember, Shaw, your liege, said you were to go along and do the Foole thing. Vadr: Oh, fine, then. What's a little humiliation when I'm gonna be dead in another 30 minutes anyway? Alright, Prithee, nuncle, wouldst hear a bit o' verse? When awful darkness and silence reign Over the great Gromboolian plain, Through the long, long wintry nights; When the angry breakers roar As they beat on the rocky shore; When Storm-clouds brood on the towering heights Of the Hills of the Chankly Bore... (Seanachai clouts Vadr over the ear) Vadr: Oww! What the hell was that for?! Seanachai: I said King Lear, dammit, not Edward! Vadr: So I stole it! You think I'm going to come up with some original nonsense while parts of my body are turning solid and falling off? Seanachai: Vadr, you git, you suck at this trusty Foole bit. Vadr: Oh yeah? Well you suck, period, you obnoxious old ****e! Seanachai: Vile puppy! Is that how you speak to an Olde One? (aims another swipe at Vadr's head) Vadr: (dodges back) Slow old man! Stupid Gnome! (aims a punch at Seanachai. Cursing and grappling, the two fall to the ice. A sharp and resounding crack! is heard, running off in both directions from where they lie) Vadr: What the hell was that? Seanachai: Vadr, lie very, very still. Now, slowly roll over on your stomach (the two figures roll apart on to their fronts) Now, make like a bloody sealion thattaway! (the two figures porpoise across the ice that is crackling and starring in all directions around them, finally making it to the snow drifted shore, where they lie panting on their backs) Seanachai: Goddamn Ice Holes. Vadr: Yeah. Seanachai I still need to do my soliliquy about the ingratitude and harshness of the World, you know. Vadr: We're going back out on the ice?! Seanachai Sod that for a lark. I'll do it in the bar. We're going to Glueks. Vadr: Glueks? Seanachai: It's a nice place. You'll like the goat. Tell her Lars sent you.

Boo is watching my detectives... Boo, my little Ohio muffin, I sent you a turn on Wednesday, with no return from you as yet. If you didn't get it, or sent something and I haven't seen it, let me know, as I'm still somewhat concerned about my email. Did you use my new email at seanachaibard@msn.com?

No problem, Joe. He'll do nicely as is, as all I need him to do is be Seanachai's Foole for the crossing the ice, bit. Now, just hang in there, as I do my 'Abused and Troubled Olde One Accompanied By Loyale Foole Sketch', then we can get back to the merry jesting and interactions that give the Cesspool it's piquancy. Places, everyone! Ready, Vadr? Roight, then.

Er, Roger, you are aware, aren't you, that YK2, aka The Fair Emma, is Scottish, aren't you? Black Watch, William Wallace, Jacobite Rebellions, all that sort of thing? Bannockburn. Claymores. Cattle thieving. For some strange reason, you seem to be under the impression she's French. She is, in fact, a Glasgow lass, and I believe she even knows what goes into a haggis (shudder). We'll all whistle a bit of a tune and study the landscape while you try and readjust your thinking.

I object to the Strategy Guide being referred to as "oop". If what is meant is 'Out of Print', it is more technically correct to refer to it as OoP, or, simply, OP. Yah, take that ya' Grognard swine! We book people have our own terminology! Toe the line, or face the almost completely insufferable wrath of the UberGnome! Ahem. And now, to proceed peacefully back to my Homeland.

Don't knock paranoid fantasies, Shaw fella! I have this one where J-Lo admits she's just a middle-class celeb playing at being a latino girl from the 'hood, and asks me to sit with her naked while we watch Ben Affleck soundly pound John Ashcroft's bare buttocks with a 3" thick bit of oak inscribed with the Bill of Rights, while this duck wanders around saying 'Affleck'. I'm not completely sure what the duck bit is all about. Great! Wonderful! You are a true and honest servant of the Peng Challenge Thread, yadda, yadda, yadda. Now appoint me a bloody Foole for my big 'Despairing and Betrayed Gnome Wanders Over Frozen Death, Declaiming About Whatever' scene. Aha! Appoint Vadr. Serve the bugger right. "I answer only to the Justicar indeed!" Bloody pillock. Shaw! Justicar! Appoint Vadr to be my trusty Foole, wandering over the creaking lake ice of Minnesota while I do my 'Abused and Unappreciated Gnome' bit, and tell the sod to toe the line.

Spoken like a gentleman, Shaw! But that's not enough. Make him caper, a bit, and say something foolish. For I am an Angry Gnome, and will not be denied! Er, well, you've got me there. I remember that game of CMBO that we played and you rushed the VL in the fog with that HT and infantry assault. Never saw a greater act of insane desperation in all me life. Damn near worked, it was so crazy. Hmm, yes, I admit, you have always paid admirable lip-service to the proper regard of the Olde Ones. And I never called for your removal. Hell, I wanted to elevate you to Archbishop! If you were a bloody Anglican, you'd be all over falling down and thanking me, fer God's sake! Aha! I knew it! You are intent on seizing the Kingship, aren't you, you poxy bastard! Oh, well, fine. I'm off for the rest of my dramatic 'Abused Gnome Wandering the Shuddering Ice Floes' scene, as soon as someone fetches me a goddamn Foole so we can indulge in witty banter and I can expound endlessly on how betrayed I am while getting in some good licks on all the sodding swine that should have rushed forward to kow-tow and place their heads below the level of my Gnomish knees. Pillocks. Assign someone, would you Shaw? I need a sodding Foole here!

Oh witness, all, the ingratitude of Squires! See how these aged locks are abused, and derided, and general, rather lackwitted scurrilous remarks are passed upon them! When R Leete arrived here, and Berli said: Sod the bugger, I say we kick his arse from here to coast and back, did I concur? No! I took him under tutelage, bathed him in the warmth of my countenance, and largely ignored his coming of age in the Thread of threads. Twice, I attempted to raise him up to the status of Knight. Twice, he declined the honour. And now, this. I go. Out into the void. I've had a quick look around the neighbourhood, and there is no 'wind-blasted heath'. So I shall wander out onto the Minnesota equivalent. Out on to the wind-scoured ice of the frozen lakes. Out, into the white darkness, the hissing of snow particles driven across the emptiness, the soft creaking and sudden cracks of sound of the shifting ice. Out into a darkness greater than any I have ever known. To where all foot-prints disappear. To where each soul finds an ending. To where the dark, cold waters of Minnesota's mysterious Ice Holes have their beginning, and all else stops. But I need my bloody Foole, fer chrissake! Only a damn fool would go out on the ice at this time of year without having their trusted and loyal Foole testing the footing. Someone bring me a damn Foole!

This is how you speak to an Olde One of the Peng Challenge? To a founding entity?! You un-evolved, slope-browed, prognathous, stoop shouldered flinger of your own feces! Vadr, you fill me with a disgust that verges on pity. And you dare, dare to tell me that you answer only to House Shaw?! So, Shaw, now we see the truth behind all your hand-wringing over the Thread! Behind your smarmy display of 'deep concern' over the Thread, and how Meeks was simply 'unfit' to be King, what we find, in fact, is something far more unsavoury! Squires who, with brutal and casual arrogance, reply to an Olde One of the Thread that 'they answer only to the Justicar. And how many, many Knights and Squires the Justicar has had a hand in raising up! Er, that sounded a little disturbing, actually. Let's just put it this way, Joe Shaw. Do we now see the real reason behind your sudden and dramatic concern with the declaration that we sought to proclaim a King? Is it that it ran counter to your own, deeply laid plans to, in fact, seize control of the Peng Challenge Thread by a coup de main (there's that disturbing theme, again)?!! Is it now that we see why the Justicar has had more Squires, and more Knights raising up Squires of their own, than any other single member? Why it is, of all the lads who've passed through (a fitting image) the Peng Challenge Thread, with all the patrons possible, the only 'House' as it were, that is constantly known and proclaimed by name, is the Shavian House? I call for an answer, Joe Shaw! Are we about to awake and find that all the entrances and exits to the Thread are controlled by thuggish Squires and Knights that answer only to you?! Squires that will give even an Olde One of the Peng Challenge Thread a rough shove, and a sneering reply, and the retort "see the Justicar if you don't like it, old man"? Now, like Lear, I shall make my way, abused and discounted, out on to the moor to contemplate amidst the storm the ingratitude of those who I laboured selflessly for, that they might have a Thread above all other threads, to make their own. And that's King Lear, dammit, not Edward Lear, in case any of you lackwits were uncertain. Come, Foole! Where is my Foole?! Good Foole, we are off to the blasted heath, there to let the elements make mock of these white hairs and Gnomish good looks...Oh, woe! [ March 07, 2003, 09:35 PM: Message edited by: Seanachai ]

Vadr! Where are you, Vadr, my bonny wee lamb? I've turned my imposing, Gnomish attention on you Vadr, and yet I don't see you out here on stage, shuffling your feet, hands behind your back and hair slicked down, attempting to bear up under my scrutiny. Foxtrot for me, lad! Juggle! Leap through hoops of fire, recite skaldic poetry, or pull a rabbit out of your arse, but get out here and do something for me. I'm waiting, Vadr!

Yes, yes you did, Joe. And, truth be told, I only did it for the imploring and begging, which was top-notch. If I had it all to do over again, I wouldn't hesitate for a second. You don't get imploring and begging like that unless you've purposely set out to get it. I remember a comedy routine involving the now gone and deeply missed Peter Cook, in which he was asked if he'd learned from his mistakes, and he replied: Oh, indeed yes! And I could repeat each and every one of them exactly! Perhaps, Joe, it wasn't that Near-King Meeks grew bored with the Thread. Perhaps, Joe, he simply found you all unworthy of his rule. Ever considered that, eh, Joe? Actually, that's a bit of a reach, of course. My bet is he got bored and wandered away. He is a Southerner, after all. Probably forgot what he was supposed to be ruling. In any case, if Berli and I hadn't come up with the whole idea in the grips of a brutal ether and single-malt scotch ICQ session, we would never have been treated to the Outlaw Justicar episode, replete with endless theme song, which was entertainment for money, to be sure. Now that you're back in from the greenwood, you aging Robin Hood, you, join me in planning some sort of new mischief. Berli crawled under the table a few days ago and hasn't been seen since.

Ah, the common misconception. You see, lad, many tend to forget that (wait for it), The Peng Challenge Thread is not simply taunting, bile, and vitriol! Yes indeed. If you go back and read the original two massive threads, you will also find, over and over again, that the Peng Challenge is also about rampant weirdness! Remember, Hiram, that those who do not remember the past are doomed to have the same Santayana quote repeated to them for eternity.

MP3s. Oh, certainly. Expect a tremendous activity spike in child-porn websites shortly.