Seanachai

You total idjit. There's nothing about your sing-songs that a good drive-by won't solve. My gods, how I loathe you. Almost as much as the endless number of sodding lackwits that've shown up here to post, recently. Mind, you're a Gentle, Parfait Knight by Cesspool standards. This knowledge makes me want to use garden implements to savage myself. But, on a lighter note, I think that lenakonrad might be the last Grand Master of the Knights Templar. At least, the poetry of the posting is starting to sink into my bones. Someone please tell me that we didn't allow that horrible Aussie pillock, AussieJeff, to take he/she/it to Squire? And what the f'ing hell is going on with AussieJeff's screename, that I'm still seeing it show up as 'auSSiejeff'. Fix this ****e. [ February 16, 2003, 03:51 AM: Message edited by: Seanachai ]

"How many times can you just look away?"

What in the name of all the gods is a 'mcgivney'? Wouldn't any proud bearer of an Irish, Scots, or Scots-Irish name characterize it as: McGivney? F'ing pillocks. I've no bloody patience for someone's little girl who's been posting under their family's proud name, and making a mock of it because they haven't the wit to reproduce it right in standard English, Scottish, or Irish usage. Here, now, mcgivney, you 8 year old girl! Do your parents know you're using the computer?! Bustle off, and purge the PC's history record before the adults find out you've been visiting sites dedicated to warriour valour, badinage, and having a good game then, eh?! This isn't the sort of place a freckle-faced maiden who's conflicted about her relationship with her father should be posting in, now is it? You soft, downy, posturing bit of genetic deficiency. Lord! What's the place coming to, I ask you?!

Hmmm. I've been a bit...down, lately. While I've tried to keep even and well appraised of the antics of you many grinning gibbons, I'm still a bit under the weather. But I feel myself beginning to heal. STAND BACK, YOU PILLOCKS! I TAKE LARGE STEPS! Vadr. I will no longer tolerate your rather infantile attempts at abusing me. Stuff it, stand up like something capable of reproducing within it's own species, look me in the eye, and say: "Seanachai, I've always wanted your sodding approval. That's why I piss myself so much trying to mock you." Or you could just say: Hey, then, all! What about a jolly sing-song?! And render up some semi-decent bit of musical mayhem. Christ, man. Here in the Peng Challenge Thread, perched on the Brink of War, and with a drunken, bronchitis infected UberGnome as some sort of patron, WE'RE ALL ABOUT THE BLOODY GODDAMN JOLLY SING-SONG, NOW AREN'T WE, YOU SODDING MAGGOT?! Vadr, I expect song lyrics of some significance from you by the time I shake off the F'ing hangover that I've incurred by talking with the Prince of Evil tonight. Before, that is, I leave for breakfast at the 'Pigs Must Die' Cafe. Oh, and Vadr. I already like you. At least, that is, as much as the other newly arrived pieces of ****e that one can barely believe inhabit the same Plane of Reality as the rest of us with normal intelligence. Rest assured, lad. You're like the half-witted, drooling, 'constantly smelling his own hand' genetically damaged child I'd always hoped to avoid fathering. And I won't give you up for anything. Short of a Court Order, of course, asking that you be put to death for the good of the Human Race. You pillock. Now, walk right, step into the light, and belt out a sodding song, you useless waste of human genetic material! [ February 16, 2003, 02:58 AM: Message edited by: Seanachai ]

I think Berli would be upset by that. Steve </font>

I don't like this presentation of 'AussieJeff' at all. The SS are a military organization of morally mixed and significantly conflicted issues, but both 'Aussie' (those swine), and 'Jeff' are worthy of being capitalized. Fix this screenname.

Luigi Pirandello? Ah! The things I'd read about young lenakonrad being female were clearly wrong, or I misunderstood them. Women never worry much about 'salvation', and they almost never speak about 'the last way out'. Only men have to worry about these issues, being so at risk for salvation, and so concerned with a final escapement from justice...

We thank you for your almost insane words. Here in the Peng Challenge Thread, we are not simply about an excess of, or lack of, medication. We are about the void that would exist without the various combinations of insanity/medication that would exist if we were not here. But perhaps that's just the antibiotics talking...

All roight, then. Even with a massive infusion of antibiotics, aimed at clearing the lungs, banishing the near constant fever, and setting the Bard of the Peng Challenge Thread back on a pattern of health, energy, and accomplishment, I'm having a hell of a time figuring out what's going on here? What's a 'Moraine Sedai'? And don't anyone try to get humourous and send me scampering about barking at the heels of Robert Jordan, fer chrissake. I mean, if she's just Hiram going through some sort of weird, 'touching his inner female' thing, than I vote we all chip in to send someone to NJ to boot him in the arse. I think Beman lives in New Jersey. Why not deputize him? What I know for sure is, we don't need another strange series of episodes such as we had with Panzer Leader, where he created a seperate identity for his 'wife', and would post under either name, depending on whether he was feeling 'frilly' that morning, or if he needed some 'other' individual to chime in on what he'd just said, all of it bearing witness to his slow descent into madness And am I now to understand that lenakonrad is female? I always thought such, with the given name. I mean, really, you lot. 'Lena'? 'Konrad'? All you lot kept acting like 'Konrad' was the given name. The poster wasn't sodding Chinese, now were they? In any case, we've had that Treeb- er, there was that other fellow who seemed to be sorting out his Combat Mission tendencies from his softer, gentler, snappier dressing self, and he's proved himself to be...well, a somewhat strange asset to to the community. What I want to know, as an Olde One of the Peng Challenge Thread, is are we now welcoming in two new Ladies of the Pool? Or has Hiram's homophobia resulted in an act of penance as he begins to post like a putative 'significant other'? I'm not at all caught up. But I thought it important to let you all know that I'm watching you. With folded arms, and a very pointed look. [ February 14, 2003, 09:04 PM: Message edited by: Seanachai ]

And yet, it is such a beautiful place. Apologies to all, posters, opponents, friends, enemies, and quite likely any number of mentally deficient hopefuls who're after posting recently. I know that I'm not missed, but I miss being not missed. The UberGnome is as sick as he's been in several years. Coughing. Fever. Lungs erupting and attempting to crawl out the body via the mouth. I'd say good luck to them, and wave them on their merry way, but the one thing I have a true horror of is not being able to catch my breath. Turns went out on Monday, or so, but not since, and may not until I can sit at the computer without running out of breath. You're all very good lads and lasses. Some of you, in your own disturbing way. AussieJeff, let me be the first to give a salute to your wife's old fellow. Tell him 'thanks', from someone who grew up laying cardboard pieces labeled 'Aus' on a map of North Africa, and trying to envision what their lot was like. You lot watch over yourselves until I cough up this f'ing terrier, or die. In the snow. edited to say that I hate running a fever. [ February 13, 2003, 02:16 AM: Message edited by: Seanachai ]

You hold out your hand to me, Joe, and I perceive only a finger of the claw of Mordor. Cruel and cold! Even if your war on me was just – as it was not, for were you ten times as wise you would have no right to rule me and mine for your own profit, and as you desired... Here...I think I've mixed up my notes. Bugger. I'll just have a word with you later, Shaw! When I've sorted out my roles...

Hmm. You're going to have to learn to give this up. Once you've posted anything on this Forum, it's damn near impossible to get the words back, and so, not worth the effort. Oh, you can edit the remark, but by the time you've scrabbled your way back to try and edit them, there's a minimum of 3 people who've responded while quoting them. Let this be a lesson to us all...whatever is intended, here. It's a bit hard to say. But don't post like this, unless you want people to, er, comment on it. If they can. In a way that won't get them banned, of course. </font>

BFC made a beautiful game, and you took it, and oozed a trail of evil and vileness over it, like a degraded and mutant snail of vulgarity. You sat there, laughing, in your prepared positions, on a map the size of postage stamp, and with no cover of any kind, and cut down my tentative efforts to recover a sense of the 'infantry advance' from the 'new realism' of Combat Mission: Beyond Barbarism. Oh, yes. You applauded yourself, at great lengths, for your 'tactical genius'. You complimented yourself, yet again, on how you 'never hit go without at least checking to see if the scenario was still completely rigged in your favour'. And you made a great many posts along the lines of: Wow! Once your opponent's infantry and clown tanks are locked down into a pattern of advance, without any benefit of artillery, smoke, or cover, and on a map about the size of a walk-in closet, the job of the defender becomes simply a matter of laughing at the number of casualties inflicted for the minimal tactical application of continuing to hit the Go button! Yours is the superiour intellect, to be sure. However, I couldn't stand to live with the price to be paid in honour, for such 'tactical accomplishments'. And, if that's not all bitter and vicious enough for you, I shall revile you a second time.

Hmm. You're going to have to learn to give this up. Once you've posted anything on this Forum, it's damn near impossible to get the words back, and so, not worth the effort. Oh, you can edit the remark, but by the time you've scrabbled your way back to try and edit them, there's a minimum of 3 people who've responded while quoting them. Let this be a lesson to us all...whatever is intended, here. It's a bit hard to say. But don't post like this, unless you want people to, er, comment on it. If they can. In a way that won't get them banned, of course.

Hmmm. Rimbaud? Verlaine? lenakonrad? It's all too strange. But I suggest that a new rallying cry for the Cesspool be 'they preferred hell to nothingness'.

I can only assume that you've been locked in a cellar for the last 20 years, listening over and over to a taped collection of Nixon speeches. Nidan, you idiot, AussieJeff is not humourous. He's like...a really odd birthmark, that would be amusing, if someone wasn't actually disfigured with it. Or, perhaps, he's like the amusement one feels when the pet of someone you really hate dies under very silly circumstances. In any case, he's not, as such, 'funny'. You need to get out more. Meet people. Maybe go to a play, or concert, or somefink.

It occurs to me, that I hate Soddball. Oh, not in some low and loathsome way, filled with hot anger and bitter, biting remarks. No, I hate Soddball in a pure, almost innocent way. I hate him simply because he is Soddball. Not for anything he's done, nor anything he has failed to do. Not for what he believes, nor what he's said, nor how he's said it. I hate him simply, purely, and for himself, and himself alone. I think that is as good a bump as this thread needs.

What, the 'floats in a nutrient jar as an un-embodied brain' bit? Old news. Ring us up when you've something new and startling to relate. I mean, hell, Charles has never once responded to any post I've ever made! How likely is that for a creature with appendages and free will? Not even a bloody postcard saying 'Seanachai, I hate you'. Superiour, 'I'm a Programming, Computer Oriented Monster in Nutrative Fluids', Too-Good-For-You-Seanachai bugger...

SHAW, YOU HORRIBLE LITTLE MAN! WHAT IS IT THAT YOU WANT? Berli comes to me, and he says "Let us have a King". Odd, I think, for he is the most anarchistic of individuals, quite given over to the laughing at rules, and mocking heirarchies, and sneering at tradition and ritual and such. But 'treat it as the right one', I thinks, and I ask him "So, Oh Dark One Flame Enshrouded (it is very important when dealing with Berli to keep up a constant variation on his 'titles of visciousness', lest he do something hideous beyond belief, such as demanding that all future Thread titles make some reference to songs by The Monkees, for example), who shall we have as King, then?" And, without missing an f'ing beat, he says to me: Meeks. Well. And so. And there it is. Did I not, in the Second Incarnation of the Most Holy Peng Challenge Thread, not arm myself cap-á-pie, and flaming sword in hand (not that there's anything wrong with that), like the Archangel Michael, did I not smite the Apostate, and rally all the heavenly host against him? Was there not an accounting? Were there not declarations? Was there not 'a reading of names'? Were the Faithful not called to account for their allegiances? You were there, Joe. You know that such took place. Now, as the Temple of the Peng Challenge descends, becomes something more mean, more day-to-day, more given over to the Things of This World, and less to The Things of the Spirit, you task me, Joe. You task me. I, who was there when Peng said, "er, um, sure, Seanachai, or whatever you're called, let's have a game". I, who was there when the First, the most Righteous, Holy, and Severely Strange Peng Challenge Thread was elevated, and taken beyond the grasp of mortal man! I, who rallied all the forces of Orthodoxy when The Apostate Meeks sought to lead the Peng Challenge into his own private darkness in the First Schism. I, who, when the folk grew bored, whiny, and, quite frankly, sodding tiresome, lamenting that 'the Thread isn't fun anymore, it's full of stupid ****e and really dull posts', revealed to them that waiting, eternally, for them in the Wasteland, the Olde Ones laughed at their shallowness, stupidity, and whinging inconsequence. We wait still, Joe. Three figures, ancient, strange, and lacking all wisdom. Sitting around a fire, passing a jug, brooding on the flames and waiting for the folk to catch us up, push us on into Nothingness with the exuberance of the 'Something' they've created. Occasionally, we choose to throw a rock into the 'Pool. Or, sometimes, a Brick. Just to watch the ripples pass back and forth across the surface, distorting the light from the over-arching stars. It makes for a pretty pattern, for the eyes that can see. And, of course, we are ourselves. Seanachai, Berli, and Peng. Not the Avatars of the Peng Challenge Thread, just three poor fools who'd give quite a lot to read a Post filled with spirit, fire, and amusement. A Post to raise an eyebrow, to tickle a chuckle, to furrow a brow with thought. A Post to make us laugh, to bring a nod, to make us say 'yes! well said!'. Just folks, you see. And so, we choose to take a King. Not a 'Good' King, certainly. A roight sodding lunatic, when you get right down to it. But 'Our' lunatic, Joe. Rough-tongued, vile, apostate, and annointed with 'the Brick'. Another 'Horrible Little Man', Joe. Like yourself. Another one of 'Us', as it were. An 'abuse of power'. The 'Olde Ones' pissing about with the Thread, as it were. But our souls are forever seated around that fire, Joe, in the Wasteland. With the wind, the stars, and the darkness. The crackling flames, and the pop of heated pitch. And the sparks, Joe; the sparks rise up, they rise up, they rise up, they fly high into the darkness! Each one a little bit of light where all is dark, each one a thing of beauty, that will burn where it lands. Each post, Joseph a spark passing from one soul unto another. That is all we want for the Peng Challenge Thread, we Old Ones. For the folk that come in here to pass a bit of their spark to all the others. To rise up, rise up, rise up, and make catching the sparks burn, a bit. Because anything beautiful should bring a bit of pain, and anything that causes pain should attempt to bring a bit of beauty to life.

Alright, I'm starting to see some very good efforts here. I swear to the gods you lot are this close to breaking into actual Skaldic poetry. Mike, you idiot, that was a lovely effort. Although not quite on the level of the stuff in "Egil's Saga", it had some of the same flavour. What is it about you lot? Some of you are the most godawful, painful, 'please someone kick the brains out of my head so I never, ever have to hear those last lines again' versifiers under the sun, and others of you, that can't post worth a sorry wet ****e when using standard English somehow become vaguely interesting when you turn your hand to poetry. That's what I find intriguing about this Lenakonrad creature. It's like the strangest part of both worlds: Sentences written in a remotely 'open verse' form, with some of the weird flow of poetry, that make almost no sodding sense, and read horribly in English. And yet...there's almost something there. Mike, please remember that I still know you to be a Kiwi, and, besides Bastables, we've never had a Kiwi in here who was worth a ****e. Still, in the 'Initiative to Return New Zealand to a Pristine State for the Wildlife and Plants', I'd be tempted to have you put to death rather late in the process.

Have a biscuit, Gaylord. Who's a strange boy, then, who's a strange boy? You're a strange boy, yes you are!

This is probably the nicest thing anyone's ever said about the Cesspool. I shall have to consider giving a game to this strange Polish person.

Oddly enough, these are three things that "peng" threads seem to repulse, as if by the means of magic. </font>

For God's sake, someone give the little Polish girl a game or we'll be reading things like this for weeks!

Wonderful. I shan't sleep tonight for knowing this, to be sure. [ February 04, 2003, 11:33 AM: Message edited by: Seanachai ]