Seanachai

Bah! Serves you bloody right, you bugger. You've never sent me a setup in which you bothered to tell me more than 1 out of 3 of the various parameters of the match. What goes around, comes around.

Excellent. We have long desired to Crush Capitalistdoginchina, but didn't really have any sort of good hook for it, given that the poncy swine never shows up in the Peng Challenge Thread, and was otherwise some sort of strange semi-grog. Once he arrives in Australia, his arse is ours! Er...as it were, that is. This whole 'Holy Quest to Crush All Austalians' is bloody well working out. I can't wait to see which lunatic moves there next, giving me the right to utterly destroy him. Life is good.

Oh crap. That's simply not fair at all. I know that BFC did alot of research for this game, and... fine. You turkeys are first on my list for TCP challenges when I have sufficient courage to play humans or demi-humans. So there. Eden</font>

I have to suppose you're being completely serious. That's quite a remarkable claim- if that's true then I was very wrong when I thought I was already as impressed as I would be. Is there a specific thread announcing this, erm discovery, or debunkery, or whatever? Eden</font>

I've come to speak to you tonight about one of the Greatest Heroes of the Millenial Cusp. No, I'm not speaking about any Politician, any General, nor even any Criminal Able to Cover Up His Crime By Political Fiat. No, I'm here to talk to you about Commander Vimes. As we stand ready, here in America, and on the brink of going to war, I think every American should read the book "Jingo". And I think they should absorb the wisdom of Commander Vimes, who decided that even Nations should be held accountable for 'criminal behaviour'. Even when they try to pass it off as 'Real Politik'. Geier, me lad, front and center: Send me a setup. The ethics and morality of the Old Firm are like a breath of fresh air compared to the posturing idiocy and self-righteous hypocricy we're on the brink of being subjected to here on the cusp between the Century of the Fruitbat, and the Century of the Liver Fluke. Oh, wait. There are forms to be observed. No vitriol has been actually 'splashed' all over my opponent. Deary, deary me. This is where so many get it 'wrong'. Where they go astray. Where so many merely 'fall short'. The Challenge, you see, is so often perceived as mere 'abuse'. Hatred. Venom and stupidity. Not that there's anything wrong with that, of course. But for myself... There is so much more to those who I name 'enemy' than anything so simple and pointless as 'hatred'. Ah, and here we address the simple 'romantiscism' of Panzer Leader, who would posture endlessly before us, declaiming about 'love' and 'beauty' and, in his own mind, 'truth'. "Camille"? How wrapped up he's become in his fascination with 'romance'. He's pushed past the 'Musketeers' saga as though it were so much flotsam on his way to another more modern and comprehensible story of 'self-empowerment'. He would dismiss the very real dislike, but salute to honour, that the Musketeers felt and displayed for the Cardinal's Guard. He would dismiss their very real if apparently insane willingness to fight against one another in order to maintain their sense of self, and their place in their own esteem. Indeed, their own esteem for each other! For who would actually choose battle, and render a worthy taunt, against someone who was totally despicable? The Peng Challenge is not about rodent and vermin control, except as regards pointless SSNs who will never, ever belong. No. I may flourish, and belittle, and abuse my opponents. I may mock and taunt them. I may sometimes become quite ironical and even satirical with them. But I would not offer the Peng Challenge to someone for whom I had no respect whatsoever. And I will forever offer at least the proper respect of Challenge for those I choose to game against. Let us not stray too far in our rhetoric, lest we become prisoners of our own hyperbole. Geier, amoral, emminent, and undefeated by myself Swede that you are. Care to tread a measure against myself once again? I've learned much since my last humbling. Dare I say: enough to give your superiority the lie, and to put your neck under my heel? Send me a setup, that I may prove that the Mermaids sing for me, but not for thee. Wotcha, Geier! Send us a setup. I can't be having with all this abuse and no achievements, eh? [ November 14, 2002, 02:38 AM: Message edited by: Seanachai ]

Bugger, eh? A game in which yer only choice is sometimes to do what they did historically. That is: Lay down and die. Funny old thing, History. It's nowhere near as balanced as folks who want to win all the time would have it. I find that reassuring in a game. Keeps the crows of hubris and stupid posturing from becoming too fat and lethargic. Perhaps someone will come up with some...er, wossname...'cheat codes' or some such?

Silence! The man's an artiste. You're pissing about with his creative flow. Philistine.

'Struth, but it's been a long bloody while since I did a proper, Gnomish update. So, on that note, I shall comment on the bevy of lackwits who I returned turns to tonight. On a map you could boot a hamster across like a hacky-sack, Hiram has spent 7 of the game's 15 turns barely advancing a couple of units 20 meters and knocking down the only church. It's hard to tell if this is the most passive-aggressive 'Attack' in human history, or someone working out a spiritual crisis of faith. My troops were advancing against Moriarity, but then stopped to watch him shell a lake into submission. He's done a bloody good job of it, too, and the fish-kill has been spectacular. This is the first game of any flavour of Combat Mission in which I've seen an opponent attempt to win by killing off the tourist trade. My game against Pondscum is starting to resemble a contest waged against the 'Lucky Charms' leprechaun suffering through a severe bout of 'Bipolar Disorder'. First he kills everything in sight, then he explodes in all directions. Finally, he's allowed himself to be set on fire, and is currently chanting 'I'm a Phoenix, a Phoenix! Stroke my feathers, stroke them!' In other words, he's as daft as a very daft English thing. Malakovski will die. In the rain. I had grown somewhat concerned about how unremittingly polite Abbot is, until I received the email from his...er, that is, his 'counselor'. It's just as well for all concerned that Abbot be allowed to be 'polite'. It suits him. Really, it just does. Boo Radley remains Ohioan. He's chortling and taking potshots at my steadily advancing troops. He doesn't seem to have anymore plan of battle than you'd expect from someone who's been breathing industrial fumes all his life, and wishing he'd been there to watch the Cuyahoga river burst into flames. Burn on, Boo Radley, burn on. Semper Fi, Berli. I plan to visit each and every spot where one of your T-34s died, drink a shot of Lagavulin, sing a few bars of "I've Been a Wild Rover", and finish up by pissing on the flaming mound of your last AFV. It's been fun, hasn't it? I'll be writing my travel guide for Frommers: Budapest on Three T-34s a Turn.

Well, I don't know about that, actually. We're all on 'walkabout' here. Except for the Olde Ones. We just sit in the Wasteland and wait to see what comes up. You're not looking extremely promising, just yet. Too urban, perhaps. Where's Goanna? Might need the Eldest Australian in on this one. Stuka, Macey, stand by, eh? We might need translators. Or someone who can administer a proper ase-kicking.

Don't you love watching Joe and Berli interact? It's like twisted siblings who've always despised each other and have plotted all their lives to do away with the other, yet they still maintain this stiff, smiling 'we'll always yet hug at the holidays' style of speaking to each other. I'm almost sure that should inspire some kind of jolly singsong.

Yes, but people will 'take' that sort of thing from you, after all. You've got credibility.

Do ya' know, Gaylord, that's actually rather humourous. I shall reverse my vote next time we're deciding on whether to put you to death.

Nae, thaes too wet, ladd. Bring it doon a notch, and yer spot on. (sorry, working on communicating with OGSF properly) Lovely. Maybe a bit too moist? But a vast improvement over the 'darky greeny tumble'. Er, not that there's anything wrong with the original, of course.

BACK, JOE, BACK AGAINST THE WALL OF THE CANYON AND GET BEHIND THAT TREE! LORD, SAVE THESE, YOUR SUPPLIANTS, FROM THE HORROR ADVANCING ON US LIKE A FLASH FLOOD!

The loss of a bit of attitude will probably result in a far greater return in helpfulness. edited to point out that I was not addressing Mike. [ November 13, 2002, 09:02 PM: Message edited by: Seanachai ]

It takes a community to raise a Soddball thread...

Worship Emrys? Worship Emrys?! Michael Emrys is a dust-bunny blown out from under the bed of Combat Mission.

Refresh my memory...what's the hubbub about these red uni folks?</font>

Welcome, Edraynes! It is a good community. But do not listen to wags who may tell you that the Peng Challenge Thread is a good place for newcomers. It is an acquired taste.

AHA! Now I know why Mace sent me that file a while ago... I know that sounds like I just ignored it, but I live in a world where strange people, some almost as strange as Mace randomly send me strange things for no reason at all. I usually shrug, and put it in the 'strange things' file. I will pull it out tonight, do what is needful, and send it on.

Thanks for reminding me. That little tale needs to be further told...

It's a thankless life, eh, Joe? Rampage around the Thread preaching fire and brimstone and trying to enforce the Peng Challenge Way, and you're mocked, abused, and derided, with shouts of 'lighten up', 'who died and made you an Olde One', and 'that bugger takes himself too seriously, doesn't he?'. But let a dozen or so complete lackwits set up on the green like a bunch of Tinkers, and everyone walks around mumbling about the laxity of enforcement and the need for a short, sharp shock. Suddenly sneers of 'why isn't the Justicar shifting this shoddy lot along, then, eh?' abound.

sigh... He belongs to MrSpkr at the moment, but he and I are fighting a battle for the squire right now.</font>

I might be peculiar, but at least I don't live in Kent.</font>

Ah, Wretch. The lad in a red uniform in the Star Trek of Life...